Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Luca’s mouth drops open. “Wait—what?”
I nod, biting back a grin. “I was going to do it next weekend. I already had a whole plan. Champagne. Candlelight. Poppy was going to play guitar.”
His brow furrows. “Poppy doesn’t play guitar.”
“I know. That’s why it was going to be memorable.”
He continues blinking, the poor man. “You were going to propose to me?”
“Of course I was, you dumb beautiful man.” I boop his nose. “I love you. I didn’t want to wait.”
Luca takes my hand and rises to his feet, pulling me up along with him. Wraps his arms around my waist for a hug.
A kiss.
“Babe,” I whisper. “We’re getting married.” I loop my arm through his, grinning like a lunatic. “Sex Saturday is gonna hit different now that we’re engaged.”
“You’re a fiancée now.” He grins. “I can’t fucking wait to get you pregnant.”
Then he grabs a can of beans—and my hand.
Best.
Grocery run.
Ever.
epilogue ii
Poppy
Welp, y’all.
I got the job.
Employed. Benefits. Vacation days. A security clearance keycard badge that I fully intend to bedazzle.
I GOT THE FREAKING JOB.
Better yet? The gig is in Houston, aka: home of Nova and Luca and Gio and Austin. Built in community. Built in support system. Built in fun. Also home of highways, cattle, and cowboys.
This isn’t the first time I’ve packed up and started over somewhere new—but it’s the first time it feels…different. Less like an escape, more like a decision. I chose this. The job is good—better than good.
I’ll be leading the cybersecurity team at a rising tech firm, and they’re already throwing around words like promotion track and stock options.
Yay, me!
I take a peek at my phone for the third time in ten seconds, as if staring at it was going to make it ring. Ring, dammit!
When it finally does, I’m standing in the center of my living room—well, soon-to-be-former living room—surrounded by a crime scene of empty boxes, bubble wrap, and one half-eaten sleeve of Oreos I’ve been using for morale.
I answer so fast I nearly dislocate a thumb.
“Are you wearing it right now?” I blurt out, needing to see her hand.
Again.
Nova laughs, breathless and happy as she holds up her hand on FaceTime. “Obviously. I haven’t stopped staring at it. I almost ran into a display of light bulbs at Home Depot yesterday.”
We squeal at the same time, which makes me laugh and wipe a tear I didn’t expect. Because it’s not just about the ring. Or the proposal. Or the fact that she got the bean aisle moment of a lifetime.
It’s the fact that my best friend is in love.
So damn in love.
And it’s happening. And I’m going to be there. In the same city. Starting over but definitely not alone.
“Please, please, please help me find an apartment,” I say. “Preferably one with a view. And a pool. And a rooftop garden.”
Nova rolls her eyes at my demands.
“I can do you one better.” She props her phone against the tile backsplash in her kitchen and goes about her business wiping down her counter. “Are you ready for this?”
I stop taping a box of knick-knacks I’m donating to the Salvation Army. “Hit me.”
Nova stops wiping and grins at the camera.
“Luca’s house--the one he owns not too far from here has a spare bedroom.”
My ears perk up. “Spare bedroom?”
She resumes cleaning. “Unless the guys haven’t moved into the primary bedroom, yeah—there’s a room that’s available and I’m one hundred percent positive they wouldn’t care if you moved in.”
My spine straightens like I’ve just been told I won a luxury yacht and free skincare for life.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
‘Cause I’m interested!
Nova holds up her hands. “I’m saying if you’re willing to live in the suburbs with two semi-domesticated male athletes and their ill-mannered lab retriever, the room is yours.”
Semi-domesticated? “Are they clean?”
She hesitates.
“Nova.”
Her shoulders lift up and down. “They try their best?”
Not exactly comforting.
I worry my bottom lip and ask the only question that has relevancy: “Do I get my own bathroom?”
Nova laughs. “Yes, Your Highness. The house has four and a half bathrooms.”
Whoa.
“Okay, okay, back to the important part—tell me about the guys.” I wiggle my eyebrows like a creep. “And I mean tell me about the guys.
“Well,” she says, rinsing her rag way too slowly. “You’ve got Skaggs—rookie defenseman. Loves to read. Overall he’s pretty quiet and shy. Great guy. Terrible at putting away dishes. I’ve literally seen him eat an entire Costco rotisserie chicken with his bare hands.”
“Ew.”
“Then there’s Cash,” she continues. “Pro-snowboarder who only lives in Texas during the summer—I think his parents live here? Barely around. Has a dog, who travels with him during snow season. Cash is also a very nice guy…picture a surfer, though. Super chill. Uses words like gnarly and huzz.”
“Let me guess—he wears beanies?”
“Yes. And he has the most symmetrical face I’ve ever seen.”
“So…they’re both single?”