“Spill? Sure, okay.” I scrambled for the flashlight and pointed it at the floor. “What are you carrying?”
“Hot chocolate. I know you like them late at night, and honestly, I wanted something sweet.”
The emotion in my throat was different now. The reason he took so long was to make me hot chocolate. “But the microwave?”
“I used our tea kettle.”
“The one you insisted we didn’t need?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” He set the mugs on the side table next to his bed and joined me. Our thighs touched, my heart in my throat as he handed me my mug first.
He’d put three little marshmallows on the top.
The simple gesture knocked the breath out of me. “You put three,” I whispered, refusing to cry. I wasn’t an emotional person. I rarely cried, and the last two weeks, I almost had athousand times. Maybe my hormones surged this month. That could happen.
“Yeah, it’s your favorite number.” Preston brought his mug to his lips, the shadows from the little light dancing across his face. He seemed at peace, content. “You always eat things in threes.”
“My first friend used to do it. It was his favorite number, and he’d always pick up three pretzels or three green beans or three pieces of popcorn before he’d eat them. I don’t know if he did it intentionally or if it was on accident, but I thought it was so cute.” I took a large sip, the warm liquid pooling in my gut and heating me up from inside. “Thank you, for this. For… everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Preston clinked his mug against mine. “Are you feeling okay about the event? We didn’t help a lot today. Whatever you need tomorrow, we’ll do.”
I exhaled, the tension I kept at bay escaping. “I need to go to the venue, but I’m not sure that’s even possible. I can work on the centerpieces and all the administrative things, plus contacting the vendors and servers and DJ. But if they can’t make it to the venue, then there is no event. The fundraising part was key. I had to prove I can plan fundraisers and a black-tie event. Not just a party.”
“What if we moved it to the rink?”
“What do you mean?”
“The rink is easier to access. Large parking lot that the team could shovel and clear a path for. We could put carpet on the ice, possibly reach out to the dorm kitchens for a backup plan.” Preston stood and snapped his fingers. “Jordan, we can totally do this.”
Hope inflated in my stomach, the unfamiliar buzz causing me to join him in standing. “I have speakers. I could ask Logan to DJ.”
“And three of the guys on the team know how to serve food.”
“And we could make the auction virtual—get the word around on social media. Donations could come from people everywhere. They don’t have to physically be at the event, but we could stream the event live online.”
Preston’s face lit up. “Yes. And, we could get Quentin’s brother to post about it, and his team would totally continue to help spread the word. We can raise the money you need to prove to your professor and mom that you’re capable, strong, and fucking brilliant.”
“We could host a challenge, like who can make the cleverest centerpiece or something. Or auction off a date with one of the team,” I blurted out, energy taking over. I finished the hot chocolate, saved the three marshmallows for last, and set the mug down. “Could you get some of the team to dress in tuxes and be ushers?”
“Absolutely.” Preston had his phone out, his eyes softening. “I bet we can ask the football team to help us too. I just sent a text out now to the guys. We’ll make this work for you, J. I promise.’
Without thinking about it, I jumped on him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist and squeezed him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He laughed and rubbed my shoulders. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Yes, but even coming up with this idea has helped me so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said the words, my voice cracking at the end. This was the problem.
I couldn’t lose Preston. I refused.
And I’d never been in a relationship before, and I couldn’t risk hurting him. Yet when he cupped the back of my head, kneading his fingers into my neck and tilting my face toward his, I couldn’t breathe.
If I was standing, my knees would’ve given out. He looked at me like I mattered, like he needed me too. “Preston…”
His chest heaved, his rapid heartbeat matching mine, as his gaze dropped to my mouth, but he quickly averted his attention. “I’m sorry your mom makes you feel worthless, but I hope you know how amazing you are. You need reminders, and that’s okay, but I’m always going to remind you when you forget.”
“Fuck.” I rested my forehead on his chest, his words exactly what I needed.
“Come on, hon. Let’s go to sleep.” Preston let me cling to him as he carried me toward his bed. He set me down carefully, tucking me in with four blankets before he cursed. “You need another pair of socks.”
