“Hey.” I survey her expression. “What’s up?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” I say warily, turning back to the kitchen. “You want a glass of wine?”
She shakes her head, glancing at the door then back to me. “Can we wait for Geoff?”
“Geoff?” I lift a brow. She’s invited Geoff over to announce something? This can’t be good. Well, she’s always been a bit dramatic, so really, it could be anything. “Fine,” I mutter, wandering into the living room and collapsing onto the sofa.
A moment later there’s a knock at the door and Geoff pokes his head in, breathless. “Hey!” He lets himself in, closing the door and turning to us. “I got a text from Alex saying to come over and bring champagne. What’s going on?”
I kick my feet up onto the coffee table with a shrug, watching as Alex drags Geoff into the living room and pushes him down onto the sofa beside me. Then she stands in front of us proudly, both hands on her hips. And out of the corner of my eye, I see a sparkle of light from her left hand.
“No way!” I exclaim.
She nods, radiant with happiness. “Michael proposed.”
“Oh my God!” Geoff leaps up, pulling her into a hug. “Oh my God, oh my God,” he repeats and I laugh at his theatrics as I stand to hug her too.
“That’s awesome, hon. Congratulations.”
Her eyes are shining with tears as I release her. I turn straight for the kitchen and grab some wine glasses—the closest thing I have to champagne flutes—and set them down on the coffee table, gesturing for Geoff to uncork the bottle. While he does, I take Alex’s hand and inspect the ring. It’s a beautiful marquise cut diamond set in a gold band—and it’s breathtaking.
She gazes down at it. “This was his grandmother’s ring.”
“Huh,” I say. “He didn’t give that to his nightmare ex-wife?”
Alex takes the glass of champagne from Geoff’s outstretched hand. “No. Isn’t that funny? It’s like he knew, on some level, she wasn’t really the one. But withme, he drove to Vermont to ask his Nana for the ring.” She lets out a long, dreamy sigh.
I look at Geoff and we share a grin. That is just the right amount of romantic gesture to satisfy Alex. She’ll be telling that story for years.
Geoff hands me a glass of champagne, then raises his own in a toast. “To Alex and Michael, and a lifetime of hot sex.”
We all laugh as we clink our glasses.
“So how did he do it?” Geoff asks, settling back on the sofa.
I sit too, folding my legs under me, but Alex stays standing, apparently too full of energy to sit still.
“Oh, it was so romantic.” She clasps her glass to her chest. “Last night after I got home from seeing you guys, Michael and I were sitting on the sofa just reading—you know, not doing anything special. He asked me to hand him this book—”
“What book?” Geoff interrupts, eyes like saucers.
“The White Company, by Arthur Conan Doyle?”
“What?” Geoff looks mystified and she holds up a hand, grinning.
“Wait for it. So, he asked me to hand it to him and I was like, ‘stop being so lazy, get it yourself.’” She pauses to giggle. “And then he asked again like five minutes later and I was getting a bit annoyed at this point, because I was up to this really good part in my novel. But he turned to me, gave me a pointed look, and said, ‘Alex, just get the damn book.’”
“And?” Geoff leans forward eagerly.
“So I got it and sat back down, holding it out to him. But he told me to turn to a page, and he’d underlined this phrase:You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought.” She stops, closing her eyes and smiling to herself.
Envy snakes through me. I can’t imagine a guy ever doing anything romantic like that for me. When Mark and I got married he didn’t even propose; we just decided one night at the bar after we’d both had too many shots. We did it the next day at City Hall.
“And underneath,” Alex continues, “he’d cut this tiny hole in the pages—like one of those book safes—and sitting inside it was this ring.”
“Awww!” Geoff swoons against me. “That issoromantic. And so perfect for you two bookworms.”
