15. Rosalie
FIFTEEN
Rosalie
I wake up to the sound of my doorbell ringing like it’s the freaking apocalypse.
I bolt upright, my heart racing like I’ve just done a grand jeté onto a live stage. Who the fuck is pounding like this on my door?
“Rosie, open up! I know you’re in there!”
At the sound of his voice, my stomach drops. Of course, it’s Riley. His knocking on my door has always been annoying, but today, even more so, because I’m not alone. Jay is sleeping next to me, his muscular arm draped over my waist.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, Jay’s eyes fly open, and he’s instantly alert too. “Fuck,” he says.
“Get up! He can’t find you here,” I hiss, already scrambling out of bed.
I grab my pink silk robe from the floor and throw it on, cinching the belt tightly around my waist. Jay is already on his feet, grabbing his clothes from the floor.
Bathroom , I mouth, pointing toward the en suite.
He nods, clutching his clothes to his chest as he silently limps across the room. “This is so fucked up,” I hear him mutter under his breath.
The doorbell won’t stop ringing, and Riley won’t stop pounding on the door like he’s trying to break it down. God, this idiot, I hope it’s important. I take a deep breath, channeling my inner ballerina goddess (or at least trying to), and open the door.
Riley barges in, practically a nervous wreck.
He’s always been like this—stressing over everything.
Next he flops onto my couch. “Liora’s gonna kill me. I don’t know how to do this.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Sure, just waltz in here like my apartment is yours.”
“It is Dad’s apartment, so unless he finally pulled me from the will, it kinda belongs to me too.”
I roll my eyes. Brothers.
I sit down next to him, pulling my robe tighter, hoping Jay’s settled in by now because, with Riley, you never know what kind of chaos he’s about to stir up. Sure enough, he starts pacing around my apartment, rambling on like he’s giving a TED Talk, expecting me to follow him as he dramatically elaborates on whatever crisis he’s having today.
“Do what, Riley?” I ask.
He looks up at me, eyes wide, and I can see the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Yeah. There’s something going on. “I want this proposal to be perfect, but I’m going to mess it up. Jay’s not answering my calls again, and Colton? He’s a disaster when it comes to women. That’s why I need you. Yes, I’ve had to stoop this low.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile. “You’re not going to mess it up, Riley. Just be genuine. Tell her how you feel, and that’s all she’s going to care about. Don’t ask me why, but she loves you, and she’ll say yes, no matter what.”
He pauses for a moment, looking at me like he’s trying to believe it. Then he nods, taking a deep breath. Just when I think he’s settling down, he freezes, sniffing the air. “Rosie, is that…alcohol?” His eyes narrow as he turns toward me, and I feel a flush creeping up my neck. “You said you were quitting all that stuff for the Sugar Plum Fairy.”
I wave a hand dismissively, trying to keep the conversation light. “Oh, that? Yeah, I poured it all out. You won’t find a drop in here anymore,” I say, hoping my tone sounds more convincing than it feels.
“Oh, that’s actually a good idea,” he says, relaxing.
I feel a flash of nervousness—what if we forgot to hide something from Jay? I’m pretty sure we didn’t leave anything out, but the way he’s looking around makes me second-guess it. Fuck. I hope we didn’t leave anything that would give us away.
“It’s gonna be fine, Riley,” I say, patting his shoulder, trying to stay calm. He smiles at me, but I can feel the guilt twisting in my stomach. I can’t tell him about Jay—not yet. Riley wouldn’t understand, and I know Jay’s vulnerable enough without having his best friend turn against him. Riley’s always been protective of me, and I’m not sure how he’d react if he knew what’s really going on. He could get furious, especially with Jay being…well, his very best friend. The last thing Jay needs is Riley’s anger and hurt on top of everything else. I’m not the reason Jay is breaking apart in the end.
Riley gives me a reassuring squeeze, pulling me from my thoughts. “Please tell me the ring is fine. Nina helped me pick it out, but she’s so busy with your case, and I can’t even blame her because I want her to help you as much as she can, but I literally can’t sleep. I’m worried she’ll hate the ring.”
He pulls out a small, velvet black box and opens it. Inside, there’s a beautiful silver ring with a big stone—delicate yet striking. I can tell he spent a small fortune on it, and it’s absolutely gorgeous.
“It’s beautiful, Riley,” I say, studying the ring and the diamond. “And I think it will fit her perfectly!” I smile as I glance at him. “But just know she’ll probably scold you for spending this much money.”
He looks almost defensive. “I tried to make it look less…fancy.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, didn’t really work.”
He drops his head onto the back of the couch, closing his eyes in frustration. “I’ve never been this nervous in my life. I just hope she likes it.”
“She will love it. You could marry her with a paper ring and she’d still say yes.”
Riley grins, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I want her to have all the good stuff. Can I read you the proposal speech?”
I glance at my bedroom door and silently apologize to Jay. “Sure.”
Riley pulls out a crumpled letter from his jacket pocket, the paper creased and wrinkled from being rewritten a hundred times. I can’t help but chuckle at the effort he’s put into this—he really does care. He can be so sweet, and I’m proud of him. But then, as he unfolds the paper and clears his throat, my eyes flick to the coffee table. Shit. And there they are.
Jay’s keys.
My heart stops.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
I freeze, my entire body locking up as panic surges through me. His keys, sitting right there in plain sight. I quickly reach out, almost knocking over a glass as I snatch them up, my fingers trembling. Fuck. Riley knows Jay’s keychain. It has that Falcons badge on it. Holy shit.
I glance at Riley, my breath catching in my throat, but…he hasn’t noticed. Phew. His eyes are glued to his proposal. Thank God he’s so obsessed with it.
But I feel it, that creeping, suffocating sensation, like the walls are closing in. One wrong move and everything will come crashing down, and I just know Jay isn’t strong enough to cope with the drama yet.
“Everything will be fine, Rosie. You didn’t do anything, so they won’t find any evidence,” Riley reassures me after we’ve gone over his proposal one last time, and somehow, he managed to steer the conversation to my fucked-up situation.
I nod, though the doubt still lingers in my chest.
All the signs point to me pushing that man down the stairs, and he’s even in a coma. Until he wakes up, I’m stuck in this suffocating limbo. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Jay and I want to search for the club I went to, just to ask around and maybe ask for the camera footage. I just can’t shake the feeling that someone out there knows more about what happened that night. I don’t think Charlotte told me the whole truth, and I don’t remember who else was partying with us until we hit the club. I can’t remember a single person. But maybe if we try to recreate the night, I will remember something. We just need a single hint…
We stand in front of the door, ready to say goodbye, but the weight of everything still feels like a heavy blanket on my shoulders.
“It’ll all be fine,” Riley says again, his voice attempting to ease the tension in the air as we stand at my door.
That’s when I pull him into a hug. My brother is annoying, but I do love him so much. “Thanks. Can’t wait to see Liora say yes to forever with you, you idiot,” I tease, my voice softer than I intended. I love Liora and still can’t believe she managed to turn my brother into a halfway decent man.
Riley gives me a playful punch to the upper arm, then steps out the door.
I close it behind him with a deep, deep sigh. That was close. Too close. My heart’s still racing, like I’ve just run through a dozen fouettés in a row. I listen to his footsteps retreat down the hallway, and once they’re gone, I rush toward the bathroom.
“Jay?” I knock softly, pressing my ear against the door. “He’s gone.”
No answer. “Jay?”
I open the door, and there he is, all six feet, two inches of him, hunched over the sink, gripping the porcelain like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His knuckles are white, his shoulders tense, and he looks like he’s about to face a firing squad.
“Hey,” I say softly, stepping into the small room.
I can feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, see the pulse throbbing in his neck. He doesn’t look at me, just keeps staring down at the sink like it holds the answers to all his problems. Shit, I made him wait too long.
“I feel like the worst best friend in the world, Rosie,” he mutters, his voice gravelly. “He trusts me, and I’m…doing this.” He finally turns and looks down at me. That’s when I see his eyes. They look so hurt. Red-rimmed and just…broken. God, what am I doing to him? One second I’m thinking I’m the one thing he needs, and the next I’m sure I’m his downfall. But I fear I’m too selfish to let him go. I can’t. Not when I finally have him.
I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He’s stiff at first, but then he melts into me, his arms snaking around my shoulders, pulling me close. I can feel his fast heartbeat against my cheek.
“This isn’t a joke for me,” I whisper, suddenly feeling so vulnerable.
And then Jay looks down at me, and for a moment, I feel so foolish—because I’ve held onto these feelings for him for so long, even when I shouldn’t have. His eyes search mine, and instead of pulling away, he reaches out, tracing a gentle finger along my chin. I melt into his touch.
“It’s not a joke for me either,” he murmurs, still gazing at me as if I’m all he needs. And I wish it were true. “I just…I’m scared of Riley’s reaction. You know how he is when it comes to you.”
I nod. I think we both remember what happened to Riley’s roommate when Riley found us flirting. I think I was sixteen back then. Well, the roommate had a black eye and wasn’t his roommate after that; I think he even transferred to another college and team.
“We’ll just keep this between us a little longer, okay? Please…don’t ghost me because of my brother,” I say.
Jay tilts his head, a teasing smile forming before he kisses me. “First of all, what’s ghosting?” he murmurs against my lips. “And second, I don’t think I could ever walk away now that we’ve started. You’ve got me on my knees, princess.”
I laugh softly. “Sometimes I forget how old you are.”
His response is immediate—he tickles my side before nipping playfully at my neck, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You know,” he says, his voice dropping lower as he smacks my ass, making me arch into him, “I should punish you for that. I’m not old.”
I grin. “I’m just teasing. You always seem so offended when we talk about your age, which is perfectly fine, by the way, and ghosting is a super common word. It just means when someone suddenly stops texting or talking to their situationship. Like they just disappear, no explanation.”
Jay cringes. “Do we even speak the same language?”
I giggle. “It means someone vanishes, like a ghost, instead of telling their person they don’t want to keep dating anymore.”
His expression softens, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I would never do that to you. You mean so much to me, Rosie. You always have. I hope you know that. No matter what happens, I will never stop being there for you. Always a call away, remember?”
And just like that, my heart melts. My teasing vanishes, replaced by something deeper. “Thank you,” I whisper, praying that I don’t start crying now because, hell, there’s really no one beside him. No one could ever top this.
He kisses me again, slow and tender now.
“So, we agree to keep going?” I ask. “And when the time is right—when we’re both ready—we’ll tell Riley. He’ll understand eventually. I know he will.”
“Okay, princess,” he says.
I lean in to kiss him.
It’s soft at first, just a brush of lips, but then it deepens, and I can feel the passion igniting between us all over again. His hands tangle in my hair, and I’m just about to suggest we take this back to the bedroom when my phone rings, shrill and insistent.
I pull away, cursing under my breath.
“Hold that thought,” I tell Jay, and pull my phone out of my robe.
The caller ID flashes my lawyer’s name. My stomach drops. This can’t be good. Jay immediately recognizes my urgent look and holds the small of my back. He doesn’t even know how much this small gesture means to me right now.
“Mr. Stevens,” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Miss Huntington, I need you to come down to my office,” he says, his voice grave. “There’s something we need to discuss.”
I glance back up at Jay and his eyebrows draw together. I take a deep breath.
“I’ll be right there,” I say.