Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“You’re right. We should.” His gaze turns serious as he leans back in the chair, his hand scrubbing across the back of his neck, his Henley stretching deliciously across his strong chest. “Especially since the media asked me that question Sunday night after the game.”
“They did?” My voice pitches up. My head spins with this new information, but of course, it makes sense they would ask him. Still, I’m dying to know how he handled it. “What did you tell them?”
His eyes are thoughtful as his gaze stays on me. “I went with what seemed like the easiest solution.” He pauses, but not like he’s hesitating—more like he’s giving this the weight it deserves. “I said it’s been going on for a while.”
Oh.
Oh wow.
My heart feels a little fluttery. I press a hand to my chest, unsure of what to do with that piece of information. Or perhaps unsure of what to do with this hummingbird beating in my heart.
“For me, at least, it seemed like the easiest way to explain everything,” he continues and there’s an intensity in his voice that feels new. “So why don’t we say that we always planned to get married eventually? That we started dating before the auction. That we planned to go away to Vegas for fun, but once we were there, we just knew it was what we wanted—getting married. And we couldn’t wait.”
Flames spread inside me from the way he’s guiding me through this speed bump. From the way he’s telling our story and making it feel…so incredibly real. Like that could actually be how it happened. How we happened.
“Does that work for you, Maeve?” he asks.
It works too well, especially the way he says my name, like it tastes delicious in his mouth. “It does,” I say, trying not to sound too…aroused. Too breathy.
“Good,” he says, then leans closer. “And listen, the guys reminded me of something else. We need to announce this on social, and we need to do it soon. Or people will suspect it’s not real.”
My mind is in overdrive. There’s so much to do. So much to get right. “Right. Sure. Of course. But where do we start?”
He must sense how jittery I am, since he covers my hand with his, soothing my nervous energy. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. We’ll get you a big ring, and then we’ll get a picture for social. After brunch.”
I exhale, long, a little calmer as he takes charge so completely, like he’s wrapping an arm around me and guiding me safely across a rocky shore. “Good plan,” I say, but then my brow furrows as I snag on one little thing. Something that didn’t even occur to me when my friends mentioned rings. “Buuuut.” This is awkward. We haven’t talked about money, but it’s sort of obvious I don’t make athlete bank. “I can’t afford a big ring. We’ll get costume jewelry, right? Or cubic zirconia. Oooh! Here’s an idea—why don’t we go to a consignment shop and find a vintage ring? I’m an artist. I can totally pull off the look.” I do the bling show-off move. “Oh, this art deco ring? We hunted all over Paris for it.”
He laughs. “Maeve, when did we go to Paris?”
“Let me have my fantasy.”
“Fine, but someone is going to spot the lie in that. We weren’t in Paris.”
“Okay, okay.” I sit up taller, reboot my routine. “We hunted up and down San Francisco for this ring. It’s from the 1920s. Rumor has it, it was once worn by Zelda Fitzgerald during a lavish gilded age party. Isn’t it divine?”
Asher dips his face, smiling. Then he raises it, and his smile disappears. His eyes hold mine. “Maeve, I’m buying you a big, beautiful, gorgeous ring. And that’s that.”
Oh. Well. Bossy Asher is in the house. “Asher, you can’t—”
He sets his finger on my lips. “I can. But more so, I want to.”
I swallow and try to protest, but I can’t find it in me when he’s so…determined to get what he wants. For me. “If you insist.”
“I do.” Asher checks his watch. “Actually, that story part didn’t take long at all. We’ve got an hour. Let’s get you a ring now. There’s a jewelry shop up the street.”
My pulse speeds once again. Everything is happening so fast, but when he rises and reaches for my hand, I don’t hesitate to take his in mine. I like the way he sets the pace. I like that he’s bossy. Most of all, I really like that it’s only us going ring shopping, and that he never lets go of my hand the whole time as we walk to the shop.
Twenty minutes later, I’m inside a glittery store, picking out an absolutely blinding ruby. It’s set low in a thick platinum band, the rich red stone gleaming with a deep, fiery intensity. The ruby is perfectly oval, framed by a halo of tiny, sparkling diamonds that catch the light with every movement. It’s both elegant and bold—timeless but with just the right amount of flair. It’s bold, just like everything in my life seems to be right now.