“Andi, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be there,” I say, using her nickname to soften the rejection.
“Mags, I know I’m asking for damn near the impossible, but I really, really need you there,” she says and I’m taken aback by the fact that she’s all but begging me. That’s not in her nature at all.
“It’s that important to you?” I ask softly.
“It’s that important.”
Shit. I sigh and nod, even though she can’t see me. “Okay, I’ll be there. Can I bring Rowan as moral support?”
“I already invited him,” she says distractedly.
“Oh? When did you two conspire?”
“This morning, he called to ask me about—” She pauses for a long moment and I frown. Why is Rowan talking to my sister? I mean, they’re friends, sure, but I don’t think they’ve ever had a one on one conversation, just the two of them.
“About what?”
“Oh, he needed a gift idea for his mom. Nothing crazy,” she says quickly and my suspicion grows. It’s February and Rowan’s mom’s birthday is in October. Why would he need a gift idea?
“Anyway, I’ll see you both next week, and I really appreciate you!” she says quickly. “Okay, bye.”
“Um, okay…” I say as she hangs up on me.
I stare at my phone and my unanswered text to Rowan and get the feeling something is off, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.
CHAPTER 9
Rowan
February - Palm Beach
The house isquiet when I get back to Palm Beach. This is the time when Archie usually comes running down the hall and jumps on me, demanding pets. But tonight, the only thing that greets me is the dark hallway and the cold floor under my feet as I slip off my sneakers.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and check the time. Fuck, it’s three in the morning. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I turn the flashlight on and groggily make my way to my bedroom, heading straight for the primary bathroom.
My eyelids are heavy as I go through the motions to brush my teeth and strip down to my boxers, adding my clothes to the laundry basket. At the last second, I remember to pull the little red velvet box from the pocket of my jeans. I take a shaky breath and turn back to the vanity, hiding it under the sink, behind a stack of cleaning supplies.
My phone dings with a text from Andreea and I swipe toopen it. A series of heart emojis pops up in response to a picture of the ring. When I called her this morning to ask her opinion on different ring options, she all but screamed my ear off. I know I shouldn’t have broken the rule and told her about the agreement, but Andi isn’t stupid—she’s seen how we are together. And I’m hoping she’ll help me convince Maggie that forever together might not be such a bad idea.
When I step back into my bedroom, I notice Archie curled up at the foot of the bed. The blanket moves and I tilt my phone to see the full picture. My heart stutters when I realize that Maggie is sleeping in the middle of my bed, the nearest pillow clutched tightly to her chest.
A taut line pulls me in her direction, telling me to never stop. Never look back. Archie lifts his head and whines, but I shush him with a few pats to his head. “I’m home, buddy. Thanks for keeping her safe,” I praise him and slowly lift the covers so I can join Maggie. My body curls around hers perfectly and I bury my nose in her hair. I’ve only been gone for the weekend and yet I’ve missed her scent, her smile, her laugh.
I’m such a fucking goner for this girl. Everyone can see it—my family, my friends, her sister. Hell, the whole world can probably see it. I close my eyes and try to summon the courage I need for what comes next. I must tell her I want—no, Ineedmore from our agreement. It’s been ten years in the making. Sure, there have been some breaks in between, especially after we graduated college and went our separate ways for a few years, but eventually we came back to one another and now I’m ready to make her mine once and for all.
The questionofwhenI should propose plays on my mind while I make breakfast. It plagues my thoughts as I practice with Maggie. I hit more faults than I ever have, each serve making me more distracted than the last. What if she says no?
That last question draws me up short and I miss the moment Maggie hits the ball back to me. It hits me square in the stomach and if it wasn’t for her impressive forehand, I probably would be fine. Instead, I bend in half, gasping for breath and wishing I was dead.
“Rowan, holy shit,” she says, running over to me. I’m still doubled over in pain, breathing through my nose and clutching the spot that I’m sure is going to leave a nasty bruise.
“I’m okay,” I grunt out, standing up straighter and trying to stretch away from the pain. Except that causes more pain. Fuck, my girl has quite a powerful swing.
“You’re clearly not. I’m so sorry,” she says, eyes wide and pleading.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say, looking around to make sure no one is watching. I cup her cheek with my free hand, letting my thumb stroke along her cheekbone.
Maggie’s eyes are glassy as she steps closer to me and tucks her face in my neck. “I didn’t mean to hit you, I?—”
