Chapter 1 #2
With a deep breath, I release her shoulder and step back. Liz follows me with her gaze. My pulse pounds in my temples, sweat slides down my back. I have never felt this nervous, not even when I flew a plane on my own for the first time.
Blood roars in my ears, and I remind myself this is fake, that I'm doing it for Liz, but it might as well be real for how terrified I am.
I reach for the chain around my neck, pull it out from under my shirt, and unclasp it one-handed.
The ring sits in my palm, still warm from my chest.
Someone gasps. Others follow. Even Maura shows a glint of humanity. Her hand automatically rising towards her lips.
But I ignore them. I only focus on one person. The most important in my life.
Liz's face drains of color as understanding dawns on her, her hands gripping the table edge.
I drop to one knee and reach for her left hand. Her fingers are ice-cold despite the heat. I've held it hundreds of times. Pulled her through crowds, steadied her on trails, helped her up.
Never like this.
Never with my grandmother's ring and a proposal I can't take back.
Her lips part, and my breath stutters in my chest because I've wondered what she'd taste like, how she'd sound if I kissed her the way I want to. For real. Now I'm on my knees in front of her with my grandmother's ring.
"Liz, I know we said we'd wait. Keep this quiet until the timing is perfect. But I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you."
No lie. That's the complete truth. Pretending you just want to be friends when you're in love is exhausting.
"You're brilliant. You make me laugh when I'm having the worst day. You're the person I want to call when something good or bad happens. The person I think about at three AM in some godforsaken airport."
More truth.
"I don't want to wait anymore. Will you marry me?"
Her tears well. As to why, I have no idea. Those tears surprise me. But they sure as hell serve this lie better. "Y-yes. Yes, Dean. I'll m-marry you."
My heart pounds like a fist on a drum as I slide the ring onto her finger, stand to my full height, and pull her to her feet.
She crashes into me, and I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory because it may be all I have.
"Trust me, Liz."
"Always."
Rochelle raises her glass. "To Dean and Liz! Welcome to the family, Dean."
Maura forces a smile because she surely never expected the sudden turn of events. "Congratulations. Though you chose an ... interesting time."
I don't take the bait because she put her own sister on the spot when it should've been a time for celebration. Her celebration, so, ignoring her, I move my response back to our ebbs and flows, "When you know, you know. Hate to cut this short, but we need a minute. Engagement adrenaline."
My hand moves to Liz's lower back. Out of earshot, she whispers, "Beach?"
"Beach."
That's us. When overwhelmed, we walk.
What do I say?
'Sorry, I proposed with minimal warning. Sorry, I've wanted to marry you since we were twenty, just not like this?'
"Dean, your grandmother's ring."
"Yeah."
"The ring she gave you for your future wife."
"Yeah."
"You just put it on my finger in front of my mother, my sister, and seven strangers."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because Maura wasn't going to let it go. Boyfriend wasn't enough. Would never be enough for her. You know it. She'd have picked at it all weekend."
"So you made it bigger."
"Yes." I pause and search her features. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first."
"No. Yes. No." She looks at the ring. "You're right. She would have made it hell." She moves her head in several directions at once, her eyes follow in opposite directions, "Yes, but this is one hell of an escalation, Dean."
"This ... this gives you a shield. She can't mock you for being single when you're engaged."
"To you."
"To me."
"Okay, okay. We're going to need rules. Rule one: We maintain this through the wedding weekend."
"And then?"
"Go home. Figure it out. Break it off quietly."
"Mutual breakup. Amicable. Stay friends."
Liz's gaze softens. "We'll always stay friends. Rule two: Keep our story straight. Four months of dating, quietly because of your schedule."
"Which means we started..."
"Early December."
"Your birthday weekend. My turn. Rule three: Physical stuff."
She raises an eyebrow, and her eyes are on the move again. "Define physical stuff."
"Hand-holding. Hugging. Occasional kiss on the cheek."
"People will expect more, though. We're supposedly engaged."
"What are you suggesting? Online streaming?"
She shudders. Her eyes close tight.
"Couples kiss. If we want this to look real, we'll need to kiss. Actually kiss."
My pulse kicks up, my cock begins rising to attention. Hell yeah.
She's talking about kissing me like she's listing it down, like it's a logistical problem. Like it won't wreck me to kiss her and know it means nothing. Like, it's something I haven't thought about for roughly a thousand times.
I look at her mouth—full lips, bottom one slightly fuller—and wonder how long I can do this.
"Kissing." I keep my voice composed, even when the front of my pants gets uncomfortably tight. "Sure."
"Only when people are watching."
Right. Only when people are watching.
Because it's fake.
Because I don't actually have feelings for her.
Because I haven't been in love with her for eight years.
Because kissing her won't destroy me.
Sure, Liz. Only when people are watching.
"Right. For show."
"For show."
"Like, we're acting, right?"
Part of me wants to confess everything. Years of wanting her. Watching her date assholes who didn't see what I see. Staying silent because I'd rather have her as a friend than lose her entirely.
Part of me knows this is my chance. Even if it's fake, I get to touch her. Kiss her. Call her mine.
Part of me knows it'll wreck me when it ends.
All of me knows I'd do it again.
I grin at her. "Rule four: We're honest with each other. About everything. This might be fake for everyone else, but we don't lie to each other."
Liz meets my eyes. "We never lie to each other."
"Never."
Except I'm lying right now. I have been for years, but that's different.
Liz extends her hand. "Deal?"
I take it and resist the urge to brush my lips along her knuckles.
"Deal."
"We should head back. Welcome party at seven. Need to shower and change."
"And be the adorable newly-engaged couple?"
"Exactly. Thank you, Dean. For earlier. For stepping in."
"I wasn't going to watch Maura tear you apart."
"You always do that. Defend me when I can't defend myself."
"You don't need defending. You need a family that isn't awful."
"I have you."
Something tightens beneath my ribs. "Yeah. You do."
"Okay. See you at seven, fiancé."
"See you at seven, fiancée."
I'm in so much trouble, but every second of heartbreak after will be worth it.
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