Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Nothing to talk about.” Dean shrugs and walks off.
“There’s a ton to talk about!” I chase after him as he leaves the bedroom.
He stops, sparing me a cursory glance over his shoulder. “I proposed and you said no,” he says flatly.
“No, I didn’t even let you propose. I told you not to.”
“That’s even worse, Allie!” he growls. “Like, I went to your dad and everything! Do you realize what a fucking chump I feel like?” He scrapes both hands through his hair.
My jaw drops. This is the first I’m hearing of it. He hadn’t mentioned the “going to my dad” part the night he tried to propose. “You asked my dad for his blessing?”
“Of course! That’s how serious I am about this relationship!” He glares at me. “Apparently I’m the only one.”
“Oh, that is not fair. You know I’m serious about this relationship. I love you. I’m in it for the long haul. I just don’t want to deal with—”
“Deal with?”
“That came out wrong.” I take a breath. “Look, we just got back from someone else’s wedding weekend and that was chaotic and stressful. I don’t want that for myself right now. I don’t want to plan a wedding or—”
“We don’t have to get married right away,” he angrily interjects.
“Then what’s the point of getting engaged? I don’t get why you—” I stop. “You know what, I’m not having this argument again.”
“Fine. You don’t want to get married. Whatever. Have fun tonight.”
With that, he stalks toward the front hall of our apartment, where he grabs a sky-blue windbreaker from the hook on the wall.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
“Out.”
“Oh, that’s mature.” I clench my fists against my sides. “You’re acting like a jerk, you know.”
“I don’t care.”
Then he’s out the door.
At the club, in the VIP lounge amidst strobe lights and deafening dance music, I spend more time texting Hannah than I do paying attention to the members of my group. And I can’t even claim it’s a helpful conversation. None of my chats with Hannah since the wedding have been too productive.
Every time I’ve asked her if she’s taken the test yet, she says no.
Every time I ask if she’s told Garrett, she also says no.
Every time she asks if Dean and I have made up, I say no.
It’s been an alarming amount of monosyllabic answers to some monumental questions.
Tonight, though, Hannah seems to have plenty to say to me. After telling her about Dean storming out, I’m startled to discover she’s not on my side.
HANNAH: I mean…can you blame the guy? He planned a whole proposal and you just…you know…
I glower at my phone.
ME: No, I don’t know.
HER: You hurt him.
HER: And embarrassed him.
HER: (Don’t shoot the messenger.)
ME: He could have spared himself that embarrassment if he’d just listened to me during the DOZENS of talks we had about this very subject. I told him I’m not ready.
HER: Yeah, but it’s Dean. You know Dean. Mr. Impulsive. When he’s in, he’s all in.
She’s right. When Dean decided he was into me, he kicked into full pursuit. And after I broke up with him at the end of senior year, he went above and beyond to prove to me he was growing up and changing. He’s been an incredible partner ever since. I love him with every fiber of my soul.
So why can’t you get engaged to him? a voice pushes.
“Allie! Enough! Am I going to have to throw your phone in this huge bucket of champagne?” Trevor says impatiently.
He’s not joking. We have an actual bucket at our booth, filled with four expensive bottles of bubbly. It cost an obscene amount, but Trevor insisted on treating. He likes to spend money.
“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” Seraphina’s dark eyes sweep over me in concern. She plays my older sister on the show, but despite three seasons of working closely together, we never became close in real life. Sera’s very serious, and our senses of humor don’t particularly mesh.
With that said, I realize she might be the best person to seek advice from. The thing about Seraphina is, she’s been married since she was sixteen years old. Yep. Sixteen. She had to get special permission from her parents to marry her high school boyfriend, but they’ve been together for fifteen years now.
“I’m in a fight with my boyfriend,” I reveal.
“Nooo! The Golden God?” Malcolm gasps. His character on The Delaneys, our youngest brother, is dark and edgy. A heroin-addict turned mob enforcer who broods his way through every scene. In real life, Malcolm couldn’t be more different.
“What did you do?” he accuses me.
“Why do you assume it’s my fault?”
“Because a man like that does not err.”
“That’s not true,” Trevor argues. “What’s the thing they always say? To err is human.”
“He’s not human!” Malcolm retorts, before hopping on the plush semicircle bench of our booth. He proceeds to channel Oprah-era Tom Cruise and jump up and down like a maniac. “He’s a beautiful god sent from above to dazzle us mortals with his sheer masculine beauty!”