“Brooks…” She crossed her arms now, all suspicion, all knowing. “Do you need me to get on social media just to say I’m in a relationship with you? Is this because I was nice to that guy at the diner?”
Wait, what guy?
I opened my mouth, ready to demand details, but before I could, Brigham waltzed in, took one look at us, and made an exaggerated face at Michelle’s hand.
“Still no ring,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
That fucking asshole.
Michelle froze.
I could see every emotion flash across her face in real time. The way she glanced down at her bare left hand, then back up at me, her lips parting, her mind racing.
And I was sweating.
Like, full-on sweating through my damn shirt.
“Uh, um,” I stammered, my voice coming out an embarrassing octave higher. “Let’s…get a drink?”
No way in hell was that going to work. Michelle grabbed my wrist, dragging me outside before I could escape.
The late Sunday afternoon was cool, crisp, the kind of weather that usually calmed me. But nothing about this moment was calm.
Michelle stood in front of me, arms folded tight across her chest, a smirk tugging at her lips as she tilted her head and studied me like she already knew the answer.
“So,” she said slowly. “Why did Brigham just hint at a ring?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Baseball. Title. We didn’t win the World Series—hell, we didn’t even make playoffs. That’s what he meant.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So looking at my left hand meant nothing?”
“Right. Nothing.”
I was losing it.
She stared at me for another few seconds, letting me squirm in my own misery.
Then, without warning, she moved closer, looping her arms around my neck, her smile soft and warm.
“Brooks,” she whispered, fingers trailing through my hair, calm and steady in a way that made my stomach twist. “Does the thought of marrying me scare you?”
“What? No. Not at all!”
Her lips twitched. “Then why are you sweating?”
I groaned, closing my eyes as she traced slow circles on the back of my neck, grounding me.
“I’ve only seen you nervous twice,” she added, voice light, teasing. “Once, when you got food poisoning while driving, and the other when you asked me to move in with you.”
Fuck it.
I opened my eyes and let out a slow breath, the words leaving me before I could stop them.
“I love you, I want a life with you, and I think I can make you happy every single day.”
Michelle’s grip on my hair tightened just enough to make me wince, her smile turning damn near smug.
“Go on,” she said, grinning now.
