The One That I Want (5 page)

But when the song finished, it wasn’t Danny and Kenickie standing in front of the car holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes that had me losing my voice.

It was Paul, down on one knee in front of me, clutching my hands like he was drowning, about to be swallowed by the waves and I was his only anchor. His eyes were shining, and my throat tightened more.

Oh God. Was he...?

“I love you, Jason Jennings. I think I loved you before we even met. I want to be your Kenickie and I want you to be my Danny. God, that sounds so lame, but please say yes. You’re the one that I want. Will you marry me... please?”

My mind registered the title of the Grease song briefly, before my heart thundered in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the real Danny and Kenickie standing on stage, waiting for my answer. How could I say no when the man I loved just gave me every fantasy I’d ever had? Despite his lies, I understood why he did it. He was protecting himself, just like I protected myself in the beginning, except he had more to lose. How could I say no to the man who was willing to sit through musical after musical just to be with me, when he’d probably prefer to have his fingernails pulled out, slowly.

I got down on my knees, and cradling his face in my hands, I kissed him. Deep, long and filled with “yes,” a thousand times “
yes.”

“I love you, Paul Connor Junior. And
you’re
the one that I want. Yes, I’ll marry you. God, how can I say no to my very own Kenickie Murdock?”

Just then the music started again, this time
You’re the One That I Want
blared from the speakers and I couldn’t stop my chuckle. Danny and Kenickie whooped and hollered on stage at us before they started singing and I was suddenly aware of other people waiting in the wings. Paul’s dad was there, his arms around Paul’s mom. There were a few others standing near them, and I recognized one of them as the director of the Grease performance. He was talking in Paul Senior’s ear.

Paul pulled me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me. He must’ve sensed my questions. “The artistic director is an old friend of the family and the performance company is a client. When these two...” Paul gestured to the Danny and Kenickie who were belting out the song on stage, “heard what I wanted to do, they were as eager as I was. They practiced the songs and choreographed everything just for us. Neither of them play Danny or Kenickie in the show but they couldn’t resist doing it for themselves either.”

I recognized one of them as the regular Sonny character.

“And, yes, they’re married in real life.” Paul paused, and a look of horror flew across his face. “Oh God, I can’t believe I forgot to put the ring on your finger. I was so nervous about your answer, I completely forgot.”

Paul pulled a small box from his jeans pocket and opened the lid to show me a simple titanium band with two diamonds set in the center. “You did say yes, right? I didn’t imagine it?”

“No.” Paul’s face dropped and I laughed. “You didn’t imagine it. Of course I said yes.”

“Oh thank God.” Paul threaded the ring onto my left ring finger and brought my hand to his lips. I looked over to Paul’s mom and dad. His mom had tears in her eyes and his dad winked at us. They waved as they walked out with the artistic director and the others, leaving us to our privacy. The music came to an end, Danny and Kenickie stopped singing and were kissing on stage. My eyes burned seeing them together, the way they should’ve been all along. At least in my mind.

“Babe, do you want to come back to my place?” Paul was sheepish, like I wouldn’t want to be in his apartment. “Or maybe I should say
our
place? Or I could move in with you... I don’t care where we live, as long as you’re with me.”

“You live closer to work, so I vote for your place. More cuddling time.”

“See, that’s what I love about you—always pragmatic.”

“You do know, now we’re getting married, you’re also responsible for feeding Dave.”

“Damn, does that mean he’ll pee in my shoes if I forget?”

“Yep.”

R.J. JONES started as a reader and eventually made the progression to reviewing. It wasn’t until two men popped into her thoughts, insisting on telling her their story that she started to write.

It started with one scene. A hot and dirty one in the shower...

R.J.’s initial thought was if she could write their scene then they’d shut up and allow her to concentrate on other aspects of her day. Not so. That shower scene ended up being 3000 words long and three hours of work. And still, they didn’t shut up. They told her their entire story and she didn’t sleep for days. Sometimes she couldn’t keep up with what they were telling her and she had to keep a notebook by her bed.

Whilst she was writing their story a side character decided he needed his story told too. Then other characters followed suit.

You see the problem? If she ever wants to sleep again then she needs to write.

R.J. is a wife and a mother to two boys. She is surrounded by males. Even her dog is a boy.

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