Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. “You think I’d invite a woman to live with me, in my home, with my child, without first saying those words to her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re right. I did. Like an idiot.”
We both snort-laugh.
“But then, I figured out my mistake and said it to her during our first night here.” I can’t believe that was only five weeks ago. My relationship with Iris has deepened and flourished so much since then, that magical night feels like a lifetime ago.
“Did Iris say it back to you?”
I give Mom a look that says, “What do you think?”
She giggles. “I figured, but I didn’t want to assume. Iris isn’t a puppet, you know. That girl most definitely has a mind of her own.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
We both chuckle again.
I found out about Iris’s “mind of her own” for the first time in Hawaii, of course. And then again in Orchard Blossom, when she stood over Brandon and told him off in the most perfect way. But over the past month, I’ve become acquainted with Iris’s quiet strength and independent spirit in a whole new way. Once she started feeling safe and secure in her new home, and with me and our relationship, she relaxed into her new life and slowly started showing me all her glorious colors—the good, the bad, and the ugly. And that’s when my love for Iris catapulted to a whole new level, because I felt safe enough to do the same.
I notice my cousin Marco walking across the room and decide he’s the one I should tell about the ring in my pocket, rather than my mother. In fact, what was I thinking to even consider telling my loose-lipped, excitable mom, when Marco’s the only person in this room who’s recently proposed?
My gaze darts to where Iris and Nicola were chatting a moment ago. They’re both still there, chatting away, but now, they’ve now been joined by Iris’s two friends from college, Kaylee and Tatiana. Perfect. Whenever those two ladies come over, which they’ve done several times over the past month, Iris gets pulled into a marathon gab session.
“I should mingle,” I say to my mother, interrupting her mid-sentence. What was she talking about? I have no idea, thanks to the ring in my pocket turning my brain to frazzled mush.
I walk toward Marco with purpose, but I’m intercepted by a couple of my new teammates along the way, so I stop to chat with them. Finally, when I make it to Marco, he’s gotten pulled into conversation with my twin brothers, Happy Levi and Evil Luca, along with Cameron. It’s not an ideal situation, since Luca has always been able to read my mind, for some reason, and I don’t want to put this decision up to a group vote. It shouldn’t be too big a stumbling block, however, if I handle pulling Marco away with finesse.
I greet the group and try to play it cool as they continue talking about Luca’s new team. He doesn’t have a firm spot on their roster yet. He got invited to training camp, and he’s now hoping to get some good playing time in at the next couple preseason games, which he’s then hoping will lead to a spot on their roster—or at least their practice squad. But however it goes for him this time, I couldn’t be prouder of my little brother’s tenacity and persistence. The NFL is a tough gig, man. My brother Luca, with all the ups and downs he’s endured, knows that better than anyone.
During a lull in the conversation, I nudge Marco to get his attention. “Hey, cuz,” I whisper. “Can I talk to you for a minute on the deck?”
“Sure thing.”
Shit. As we turn to walk away, Luca grips my bicep and deadpans, “Whatever you have to say to Marco, you can say it in front of the whole class, Roman Maguire.”
Fucking hell. How does he always read my mind? He’s been able to do it since he was a toddler. “Sorry, Teacher,” I shoot back playfully, trying to throw Luca off the scent. “Mrs. Teetlebaum from the office told me to come get Marco out of class. His mom is here to take him to the dentist.”
Luca raises a suspicious eyebrow. Obviously, he’s not buying my attempt at deflection. “Seriously, what’s going on, Rome? You’re sweating bullets.”
I scoff a bit too loudly. “No, I’m not.” I am, though. Which is crazy, since I’m known for being graceful under pressure. Even when three-hundred-pound linemen come at me with murder in their eyes, I’m unflappable. An assassin. A sniper. But slide a goddamned diamond ring into my pocket—one I’m bursting to give to the love of my life—and I fall the fuck apart.
I take a sip of my beer to emphasize what a relaxed, chill dude I am, but Luca’s still not buying it. Probably because my hand is shaking while I drink.