Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“Dad—”
Miguel gave Juan a look from the side, stopping him before he could say anything more with, “Not that it mattered—I’ve known you wanted to marry her since ... well, for a long time, Juan.”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re also twenty, and she’s only—”
“I’m not saying right now,” Juan was quick to say before his father could continue. “But ... someday.”
Miguel let out a soft sigh.
Then, he smiled. “Well, someday, and by that, I mean before you think of even asking her, you better make sure you speak to her father.”
Juan swallowed hard.
Right.
He’d forgotten about that bit.
Chapter 12 – Him
Juan POV
20 years old ...
Nervous did not begin to describe how Juan felt as he moved to stand beside Cross Donati in the man’s backyard. He’d decided he would ask Cross for his daughter’s hand the next time he had the chance which just happened to be a month after he’d spoken to his own father about it.
With the backyard Donati party long over that evening, Juan decided now or never when he noticed Cross outside alone.
“I have something to ask,” Juan said.
Cross smirked, giving him a look from the side. “Oh?”
“Not used to having people ask questions, or ...?”
“Cute—watch that tone, huh? No, everyone always has something to ask—rarely you, though.”
It wasn’t a lie.
“I don’t have a choice. I have to ask this one. And it has to be you that answers it.”
Silence covered the dark yard.
Cross stiffened beside him. “Please tell me you’re not going to ask that?”
“Depends on what that is.”
The man gave him a burning glance. “You know. Don’t play stupid. There’s only one thing you have to ask me for Cece.”
Fine.
“Would it be such a bad thing if I did?”
“Yes and no.”
Juan didn’t plan on asking the man to elaborate on that. “I’ll take those odds, Cross. And since you couldn’t let me work into it the way I wanted to, I’ll just ask. I want to marry your daughter—do I or do I not have your blessing?”
Cross’s jaw tightened. If his line of view shot fire, the trees would have been burnt to a crisp.
“I do like you, Juan, I hope you know that,” Cross said, shaking his head.
“Sometimes, I do wonder.”
“Sometimes, you make it hard to remember why I like you.”
Yeah, well ...
“Same,” Juan returned.
“You gotta lot of nerve asking me that when she’s only eighteen,” Cross muttered, eyeing the dark surroundings of the backyard, then up at the sky before coming back down to the treeline. Looking literally anywhere but at Juan. “And you know why?”
Juan didn’t get a chance to offer a reason.
Cross continued on just as sharply with, “Because I know how much you fucking love her—because we already did this thing once where I threatened you with what would happen if she wasn’t treated with the utmost care, and never once—not one goddamn time—did you break that promise, and you still let her live her life while you did it. You’ve not given me a single reason to say no to you, Juan, but you ask now—when she’s still young, and for that, you’ve got a lot of nerve here.”
“I didn’t think I was putting you in a bad position.”
“Of course, you are. I’d feel like a fuck for asking you to wait—no one should have to wait when it’s something they love and adore. I know that better than anyone.”
“I—”
“And half the goddamn time, none of us even know if the two of you are on or fucking off—it tends to be a clear, obvious thing, you know? Not with the two of you.”
He swallowed hard, considering that.
It didn’t take him long to formulate a response and when he did, he hoped it made more than just one thing clear to Cross. All the nerves he felt earlier slipped away because out of everything in his life, there was one thing he was most sure of: Cece. And he wanted everyone else to know it, too. Including her father.
“I grew up with Cece,” Juan said, “and she was my one best friend that was constant. And the only thing between her and I that’s not really changed even when we got older and the shit we did when we were kids turned into something different ... I still had my best friend. So, next week I’m taking her to Mumbai—you know about that trip—and we’re gonna have a week of just her and I. But last week she spent partying in the Hills and didn’t call me until Friday when we were flying back to New York for this thing. I’m not dying about it. I don’t need to worry about it when I know what I know. It’s not an on or off thing for me and her—we’re us, and maybe we don’t look like somebody else’s thing, but how can it? Everybody else didn’t grow up like we did ... they’re not like we are. It’s how we want it. And maybe someday it’ll change again and we’ll turn into something different.”