Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
I marched over, snatched the mic from the horrified announcer, and paraded to the center of the piste, too determined to process any embarrassment.
I tapped the mic. “Farrow Ballantine?”
The buzz of the crowd lulled before picking up again.
A row of uniformed fencers halted a few feet away, staring at me through masks. One of them nudged another and pointed at me with the tip of a sword.
“Farrow.” I spun one-eighty, trying to spot her in the sea of faces. “Are you there?”
“The fuck are you doing?”
It came from a random dude in the stadium.
I worked a thumb over my jaw, speaking into the mic through gritted teeth. “The fuck I’m doing is trying to get my girl back.”
The crowd erupted in pandemonium.
Most hollered.
Some jeered.
And I’d officially run out of fucks to give.
“Good Lord, that man is fine.” A woman whistled. “Dress me up like an ice cream cone, and let me lick him.”
I’d become a laughingstock in the span of a minute, and fuck it. I didn’t want to extend an olive branch. I wanted to give Farrow Ballantine the whole damn tree.
“Farrow…” I pulled my shoulders back, gazing into the throngs of faceless people. “Our entire relationship has been a secret. Tucked in the dark alleys of our lives. No more. Whether you accept me or reject me, I am done pretending I’m not yours.”
“Hey, man.” Another damn heckler. “Where is your shoe?”
The entire audience laughed.
I carried on, ignoring them. “I spent my entire adult life living without actually living. You blazed into my life so unexpected. A breath of fresh air. You taught me how to move on, how to overcome my past, and how to live. I can touch again.”
Someone catcalled.
More snickers.
Maybe I should’ve cared about revealing my secret to the world, but I didn’t. Getting Farrow back mattered more.
“Just now, I drove five hours in the rain in a shitty rental, and I didn’t pull over, didn’t vomit, didn’t stop. That’s all you, Octi.” I pivoted, facing the other half of the crowd, covering my bases. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. That I didn’t make you my priority the minute I met you. You deserve so much more.”
I gripped the microphone harder. My vision blurred. I was running on approximately six hours of sleep, spread across four days. “Remember when you told me about the Lobster Telephone? You were right. Everyone has a favorite work of art. You’re mine.”
Silence.
Every person in the entire arena had gone utterly silent.
Where the hell was Farrow?
Dammit. I’m going to burn all your credit cards, Frankie.
“Excuse me?” An official tapped on my shoulder, shuffling from foot to foot. She toyed with the end of her ponytail. “We have a match right now.”
“Postpone it.”
“But—”
I glared at her until she scurried away.
Alone again, I swung to the other half of the stadium, adjusting my grip on the mic. “Farrow, I tried to fight the spell you put me under. I lied to myself. I lied to you. Life is messy. Love is risky. And I was perfectly safe in my sterile bubble.”
I didn’t care that I had a faceless audience. Didn’t care that I was pouring my heart out.
For once, I needed to be courageous with my heart.
I sucked in a breath.
“I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t have total control over myself. But it’s true. I don’t.” I gestured down at my unkempt state as proof. “I am so uncontrollably mad for you. Since I met you, there hasn’t been a single day that’s passed where every second isn’t consumed by thoughts of you.”
At my words, a single fencer among the row of competitors edged back.
Farrow.
Her shoulders began shaking, rattling her whole frame. She looked so much skinnier in her uniform, so slight, I barely recognized her.
It never occurred to me that her month of soul searching would be so hard on her. Dallas had assured me, over and over again, that she was thriving.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. The sight of her crying unleashed chaos in me.
I strode to her, snatching up her gloved hand. “I didn’t have the chance to grab the engagement ring from home, but I brought this.”
When I pulled back, her arms crossed over her stomach, shoulders still shaking.
I reached into my inner suit pocket and produced a beatdown, torn-apart sneaker. The one she’d left behind all those months ago.
The crowd began clamoring again, whispers snaking down to us.
“Is that a shoe?”
“Maybe he should find his own shoe first.”
“Ew. That thing belongs in hazmat containment.”
I ignored the noise, got down on one knee, and collected Fae’s hand again, speaking into the microphone to silence the stadium.
“I know the world is awful, and ugly, and tiring. I know it hurt you, betrayed you, and shattered your soul. But if there is any ounce of love left in you, would it be selfish of me to ask for it? I promise I’ll protect it. I promise I’ll protect you.” I squeezed her hand through the heavily padded glove. “I love you, Farrow Ballantine. Will you marry me?”