Vintage Volume Two - Lisa Suzanne
“Roxanna Cecilia Price, my Jimi, I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that I can’t live without you. Will you marry me?”
I stared up at the man on the stage.
Lights blinded my eyes. They flashed down from the stage. One beam landed on me.
Were people taking pictures of me? It seemed like flashbulbs were exploding. I could feel George’s presence nearby, but I couldn’t feel much else.
My ears buzzed with a loud quiet, the kind of quiet that screams over everything else and blocks out all of the surrounding noise.
My mouth was dry, like the time in the fourth grade my friend dared me to eat three packages of crackers in sixty seconds.
Drier than that, even.
My eyes left Parker’s long enough to edge over to the screen displayed to the entire crowd at Raleigh’s Walnut Creek Amphitheater.
It was me. I was on the screen.
Surely I hadn’t heard him right. Had I?
Why the hell was I on the screen if I hadn’t heard him right?
My eyes moved back to Parker’s. They were pleading.
He still looked nervous. He looked terrified, actually. There was an amphitheater of at least fifteen thousand people waiting for my answer.
I knew that Vinnie, Fitz, and Garrett were staring down at me too, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered what the hell they thought about this. Had they known?
But the only one I could focus on was Parker.
Did he really want this? We’d just barely gotten back together. We were still finding our way.
He was still earning back my trust.
We’d never had a problem with the physical aspects of our relationship. If Parker was the last person I’d ever fuck for the rest of my life, I’d be okay with that.
But marriage was about a hell of a lot more than sex.
I needed time to think this through. I needed to sit on it, to think about our future, to get to know Parker better.
Fuck, I barely knew the guy at all. I knew he had a sister named Kimmy.
I knew he wore a lot of black clothes.
But was black his favorite color?
What was his favorite song? His favorite food? What was he like when he got up in the morning on a regular day?
What would life be like for us if he was out on tour and I was at home, fulfilling my lifelong dream of…
Of working at Vintage?
I didn’t even know myself, and this man was asking me to commit my life to his?
I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready.
But I couldn’t say no in front of a crowd of fifteen thousand expectant people. Thirty thousand eyes were trained on me.
The volume seemed to turn back up.
The first words I heard were George next to me. “He’s waiting for your answer, Miss Price.”
I couldn’t say no. Not with all of those people staring at me.
And so I said the opposite of no, even though I was certain I didn’t mean it and I wasn’t ready.
I was momentarily weightless as I was hoisted up on the stage by a security guard. Parker grabbed my arms and helped pull me up. He wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me in front of the crowd, and I heard the screams from the perspective of the musicians gracing the stage.
He pulled back and looked into my eyes, and even though it was wrong to say yes, his eyes were warm and loving. He knelt down and held out a ring.
I nodded, and the crowd cheered. He slipped some huge rock on my hand, but it wasn’t about the diamond to me.
It was about the commitment.
His eyes told me that he was convinced that this was right, and it was almost enough to sweep me up into it and convince me, too.
He stood, pressed his lips to mine, and hugged me. “Thank you,” he murmured into my ear. I barely heard him over the crowd. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. But why did you ask me in front of this crowd?”
He pulled back from me and gave me a strange look that I couldn’t quite read. Almost like he thought my question was stupid.
But it was valid. Maybe I was asking it at a strange time, but in my defense, he’d asked the first question at an equally strange time.
He held onto me as he belted out the closing notes of Motley Crue’s “Without You.” Cheers and screams erupted from the crowd, and I felt them onstage. I saw the appeal of standing