Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Your eyes went all dark, and you looked like you were going to caveman-throw me over your shoulder.”
“That,” I said, my voice a rasp, “is dangerously close to what I was thinking.”
She giggled, and it was music to my ears. I drew her harder against me. I was marrying this woman. I couldn’t deny that the idea was satisfying regardless. She would be mine. She was mine.
“All right,” English said, checking her phone, “ready for this?”
“It’s like having our own publicist,” Whitley said, extracting herself from my arms.
English shot her a look. “You’re lucky you don’t have to pay me.”
Whitley pulled her into a hug. “Bestie does bestie shit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” English grumbled.
Our friends went first into Club 360. Camden had reserved the rooftop bar for our private use for the evening. Everyone who was anyone would be there. Including a few discreet reporters who English had let in to write the correct things about our hasty engagement. All that was left was the actual announcement.
Whitley was staring down at her fresh manicure instead of up at me. Her brow was creased in concentration, and her eyes were narrowed. I wasn’t used to seeing this level of contemplation on her usually playful face.
“Are you okay?”
She jerked out of her trance. “Just … wondering if we’re doing the right thing.”
“You don’t want to announce the wedding?”
“I know we should. Katherine explained it all. And I do want to fulfill my father’s wish.”
“But …” I prompted.
“But sometimes, I wish we could do it without fanfare.”
“The wedding?” I asked with a laugh. “I can’t imagine anyone in my life letting me get married without fanfare.”
“No,” she whispered, then met my gaze hesitantly. “Us.”
“Hey,” I said, taking her hand. “The spotlight is for the wedding. The rest is just us, okay? We can figure this out together without all the rest of it.”
“Promise?” she joked.
I held out my pinkie, and she laughed just as the door into the club opened again.
English stuck her head inside. “You two coming or what?”
“On it,” I said as I offered Whitley my arm.
She put her hand on the crook of my elbow, and I escorted her outside. Everyone’s eyes immediately settled on us. Shocked expressions followed us as we made it to the front of the room. I recognized at least half of the room. Colleagues and friends from Harvard and old flings. Someone had done a damn good job of making sure to include enough of the women that would be problematic all in one place. Great.
As we reached the spot to make our big announcement, Whitley went stock-still. I glanced down at her in confusion and then followed her gaze.
Robert.
He was standing at the center of the room with Harmony at his side. Harmony glanced at him uncertainly. But Robert’s eyes were solely for Whitley. Three years ago, he’d confessed his love to her, and we’d broken his heart into a million pieces. Whoever had invited him here today had a sick sense of humor.
That was probably Katherine.
But I appreciated it all the same. I probably should have gotten ahold of him before this happened, but it was too late now. We’d been as thick as thieves before things went down with Whitley, and as much as I hated to admit it, something had broken after that. We were still friends. We were cordial in public. But we’d never be the same.
A fact that I did not intend to tell Whitley.
“Hey,” I whispered.
She slowly tilted her head up to look at me. My smile was megawatt to draw her attention, and it worked. She broke into a smile too.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
I turned back to the crowd, avoiding Robert’s questioning stare. “Thank you all so much for coming today. Our lovely host, Katherine Van Pelt, was oblique about the reason for this party. Well, I’m glad to tell you that Whitley and I are engaged.”
Whitley’s smile only grew as she held her left hand forward and showed everyone my grandmother’s wedding ring. “We’re not ones to wait. So, look for an end-of-summer wedding invitation in the mail any day now.”
Most of the crowd rushed forward all at once to issue congratulations and look at the ring, but there were people who looked mystified by the announcement. Others, like Robert, hadn’t moved at all, and he stared back at us, as if the news had punched him in the gut.
Whitley and I accepted congratulations and confirmed that, yes, we were getting married before the end of the summer. No, she wasn’t pregnant. English handed her a champagne flute as soon as she possibly could. And, yes, we were beyond excited for the next step in our life.
Eventually, the crowd parted, the dance floor opened, and drinks were flowing. I pulled Whitley into my arms and swayed side to side to the music. She rested her cheek against my chest.