“I had such a great time with you on our first one-on-one,” he continues. “Honestly, all the time we’ve spent together has been wonderful, and I can tell you deserve someone truly special to spend the rest of your life with.” Still holding my hands, he frowns at the ground.
Fantastic. Here we go.
“I just—” he starts, then looks up at me. “I truly hope that can be me.”
Wait.What?
“You are the one I want to be with, Becca,” he continues. “You are the princess that I want to live happily ever after with.”
I’m gaping in shock. Why on god’s green earth is he pickingme? Didn’t he agree in the DallianceTower that we aren’t a thing? Isn’t he aware that we have absolutelynothingbetween us?
My gaze flicks back to Nate again, who looks considerably less shocked. But I can’t read his expression, not really.
Preston chuckles. “I can tell you’re surprised. Honestly, the way I fell so deeply for you surprised me too. But you were so much more than I ever expected when we first met.”
“Preston—” I start, caring far less about the backhanded compliments than just getting him to stop before he actually—
He puts a finger over my lips. “Let me finish.”
Did he justshushme? Now I’m both stunnedandannoyed.
He picks up the glass slipper, which sparkles in the sunlight, and drops to one knee. “I have a feeling the slipper will fit,” he says, all wide, charming smiles.
“Preston, I don’t think—”
“Becca Hale, will you marry me?”
I’m frozen for a few seconds, feeling a bead of sweat work its way down between my shoulder blades. Feeling the many, many cameras on me in a way I stopped really noticing weeks ago.
He blinks up at me with this expectant expression, but there’s only one answer I can give.
“Um,” I say. “No.”
It may be full daylight out, but I swear I hear the chirping of crickets in the heavy silence that follows.
“What?” Preston asks, confused.
Why is he confused by this?
“I can’t, um. I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
He gets back to his feet. “Seriously? Why not?”
There are many reasons why not, but the one that tumbles out is this: “Because I’m in love with someone else.” My heart stops again.Don’t look at Nate. Don’t look at Nate.
I guess I decided to let him know, after all.
Preston, though, is now the one gaping. “You never mentioned some other guy. Who is he?”
“He’s someone I hurt badly, and I messed everything up, and I—” I swallow, my throat too thick. Shit. I’m in the middle of a proposal here. I try to focus back on Preston. “But regardless of who he is, I can’t marry you, and I’m so sorry that—”
“No, I want to know! Who the hell is this guy?” Preston’s face is growing redder by the second.
Don’t look at Nate. Don’t look at Nate.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “What matters is that I can’t accept—”
“It matters to me!” He flings his hands outward, and it’s a good thing he’s got a tight grip on that glass shoe, or it might have clocked the boom mic operator standing several feet to his side. “Dude! I hadtwenty-nineother chicks who wanted to marry me! What’s wrong with you?”
