He has a point, which just irritates me more. “I get that, but now what? We’re another level of fake?”
Something flickers in his eyes—hurt, maybe? “I didn’t plan this, Syd.”
“I know.” I sigh, the adrenaline leavingme in a rush. “It’s just... for a second there, I thought...”
I can’t finish the sentence. Can’t admit that for one wild, wonderful moment, I believed he meant it. That the proposal was real, that the emotions behind it were genuine.
“Sydney.” Brooks steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “I—”
“There you are.” Jonah’s voice cuts through whatever Brooks was about to say. My brother stands a few feet away, his expression carefully neutral as he takes in the scene. “Congratulations, I guess.”
“Jonah,” I begin, not even sure what I’m going to say.
He holds up a hand. “Save it. I just wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tonight. At The Velvet Steak.”
The request catches me off guard. Jonah hasn’t invited me to dinner, just the two of us, in a very long time. And to the nicest place in Dickens.
“Of course,” I say, knowing I need to clear the air with my brother, explain this tangled situation before it gets even more complicated. “What time?”
“Eight? I can make a reservation.” He still hasn’t looked directly at Brooks.
“I’ll be there.”
Jonah nods once, then turns to leave without another word to his best friend.
“That’s going to be fun,” I mutter, watching him disappear into the crowd.
Brooks runs a hand through his hair, his tell for stress. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“I think that would defeat the purpose of the brother-sister heart-to-heart he’s planning.” I twist the ring on my finger, still adjusting to its weight. “Besides, I need to talk to him alone.”
“Okay. I set up a night PT session after this anyway,” Brooks says, his tone deliberately casual. “So, am I gonna see you later?”
There’s a vulnerability in his voice, a question beyond the simple words—that makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.
“This might go late,” I hedge, suddenly unsure of everything.
“Late works for me.” He steps closer, his fingers brushing mine. “I’ll wait up.”
The promise in those three words—I’ll wait up—feels more intimate, more real than the public proposal we just enacted. And despite all the confusion, all the layers of pretense and performance, I find myself hoping that maybe there’s something genuine beneath it all.
But first, I have to survive dinner with my brother, who looks ready to commit murder in the first degree.
23
In the Clear
BROOKS
Igrip the steering wheel tighter as I navigate the familiar route to rehab, the ring incident playing on repeat in my head. A proposal.A fucking proposal.On live television, in front of the entire arena. What was I thinking? I wasn’t—that’s the problem. The ring tumbled out, Kermit’s camera zoomed in, and my brain short-circuited into a gesture that I can’t take back. But the thing that’s really nagging at me? For a split second when I was down on one knee looking up at Sydney’s shocked face, I meant it. Every. Damn. Word.
The SUV feels too small suddenly, like the walls are closing in. I crack the window, letting the cold night air slice through the cabin. It doesn’t help. Nothing will help because I’m in too deep now, drowning in feelings I’ve spent two decades pretending don’t exist.
A horn blares behind me, and I realize I’ve been sitting at a green light, lost in my own head. I wave an apologetic hand and press the gas, forcing myself to focus on the road instead of the steady unraveling of my already messed up life.
Would I have meant it? If things were different—if this whole relationship wasn’t built on a house of cards, if I wasn’t broken, if Jonah hadn’t made me promise to stay away from his sister—would I have actually wanted to marry Sydney?
I’m not going to answer those questions, not even in my own head.
