SHEPPARD (COVER BY TWENTY ONE TWO)
BROOKE
“Marry me.”
Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.
Owen says the very last thing I ever thought he’d say in the middle of a karaoke bar… with a plate of chocolate marshmallow fluff and rainbow sprinkle-covered tater tots sitting in front of me. And most unfortunate, he did so as I took the last sips of the ginger beer I’ve been working on. I do an actual spit take all over my best friend’s handsome face, while simultaneously inhaling my favorite spicy, carbonated beverage up through my nose.
My eyes are watering. There’s ginger beer dribbling from my chin, and am I crazy, or did the music just stop?
“Jones!” Breezy yells from the center of the silent room. “Bro, did you just propose?!”
“In a tater tot bar?” Drew echoes his disbelief. He’s never heard anything more ridiculous. And, for real, me neither.
“No!” I say, just as Owen says, “Yes.”
“Are you…” I tilt my head and whisper, “ya know… under the influence…? High on pain meds?”
“What? No, Brooke. I’m completely serious, and I’m overdue for meds.”
His eyes haven’t left mine, and I find I can’t look away either. Especially when he reaches out with his good hand—in the single hottest moment of my life—and pulls my stool by the seat, dragging it like I’m a tiny little thing until it’s flush against his. His legs bracket mine and the room has quite disturbingly not returned to its former volume, because they are waiting for an answer from me.
“Marry me, Babe.”
I lean closer, pretending it’s just me and him and not a crowd of people watching ournot-proposal. “Owen, no…”
“Yes.” His fingers brush along my knuckles, and I must really be losing it, because I don’t ever remember agreeing to hold hands with this man. That is a careful boundary I rarely, if ever, cross. His voice is low and gritty and sounds a lot like it does when he sings every single word to “Your Man” with the windows of his truck down and a sultry smirk on his face.
Stay strong, woman. Now is not the time to run through the lyrics of that song.
“We are not getting married, Owen. Not for a game show.”
His eyebrows raise in question, so I quickly nip that guffaw in the bud. “Not for any reason.”
“But you were going to marryEdward Scissorhands?Have some fun… Win some money… Remember?”
I peek around at the crowd now beginning to mumble around us. “Can we not do this here?”
“Sure.” He nods, cheeks reddening when he looks at our surroundings and realizes we have an audience. “Let’s go home.”
“Come on, Brooke!”loosey-gooseyDinah yells from the other side of the room. “Stop the man’s pining. Put him out of his misery. Let him put a ring on—” Emory slaps a hand over her sister’s mouth.
“Carry on,” she says, then pulls Dinah quickly through the bar and out the front door, each woman throwing identical waves over their shoulders as they escape. I wish I could follow them.
Meanwhile, Owen’s teammates, our friends, and all of Honey Hill—including my mother and Jerry canoodling in a corner I’ve avoided eye contact with all night—are waiting for me to graciously accept Owen’s proposal.
I hate that the little green monster in my gut—let’s call her Gretchen; she feels like a Gretchen—has almost convinced herself that this could be my real life.
Like, in some other dimension, Owen Jones proposed to me in front of all our friends and family, not for a game show and not for a cash prize or convenience, but because he loves me and I love him, and we can promiseforeverto each other with certainty.
But then, my mama cheers in the corner, her arm wrapped around Jerry’s stodgy shoulders and his thick hands draped proprietarily around her waist, and I’m shaken back to reality. “Come on, honey! Say yes! Double wedding!”
My chest tightens, and I give Gretchen a mental chastening for letting her fantasies get away from her.
“It’s okay, Brooke,” Owen whispers, just before his lips press against my cheek in a soft kiss, though I didn’t even know he had leaned into my space. “Let’s get out of here.”
I think I’m ready to leave, but then, suddenly, I’m wrapping my arms around Owen’s neck, careful not to put too much pressure on his injuries but needing him closer.
