Chapter 29 Ycomconaa
YCOMCONAA
GRYFF
The morning started like any other Saturday, except for the fact that I'd been awake since four in the morning, the engagement ring burning a hole in my sock drawer where it had been hidden for the past three weeks.
“You're being weird,” Artie announced, emerging from our bedroom in one of my old DSU shirts and shorts that made her thighs look absolutely incredible. “Weirder than usual, I mean.”
“I'm not being weird.”
Vincent bleated from his pen outside, as if calling out my lie.
“You made breakfast,” she said, gesturing to the spread on the counter. “Like, actual breakfast. With fresh fruit arranged in a pattern.”
“It's not a pattern, it's just... organized.”
“It's a heart, Gryff. You arranged the strawberries in a heart.”
Shit. I had.
“I was feeling romantic?” I offered weakly.
She softened, coming over to wrap her arms around my waist from behind. “That's sweet. But also suspicious. What did you break?”
“Nothing.”
“Did the goats eat something important again?”
“No, they've been angels.” Mostly because Flynn had been keeping them distracted with treats all morning while secretly coordinating with half of Los Angeles via text.
My phone buzzed.
Flynn
Get her out of the house. NOW. Team's almost here.
“Hey,” I said, turning in her arms. “Want to go to the farmers market? The one in Santa Monica?”
“The one that's an hour away in Saturday traffic?”
“Yeah, but they have those honey sticks you like. And we could grab lunch at that place on the pier after.”
She studied my face, and for a moment I was sure she could see right through me. “Okay, now I know something's up. You said the seagulls there have 'organized crime energy.'”
“Maybe I've changed my mind about the seagulls.”
“Gryffen Greene Kingman.”
“Artemis Ingvar Fraser.” I hoped soon I'd be able to say Artemis Ingvar Kingman.
“Fine,” she said, but she was smiling. “Let me get dressed. But if this is some elaborate plan to avoid me finding out you signed us up for another reality show, I'm feeding you to the goats.”
While she got ready, I sent a quick text to Flynn.
Leaving in 10. You sure everyone can make it?
Flynn
Sean's coordinating LA crew. Tempest has the fam on FaceTime for instructions. Parker's got the flowers. Freddie and the rugby girls just arrived. GO.
Also Jules says to tell you she's stress-eating all your good cheese.
And Dad says to stop overthinking and just do the damn thing already.
The drive to Santa Monica was torture. Artie had connected her phone to the car's sound system and was singing along to the latest Kelsey Best album, occasionally reaching over to squeeze my thigh.
Every time she touched me, I thought about the ring, about what I was going to say, about the very real possibility that she might say it was too soon.
“Okay, seriously, what's wrong?” she asked as we sat in standstill traffic on the 10. “You're gripping the steering wheel like it's going to escape.”
“Just thinking about training camp. We aren't rookies this year.” It was a convenient lie.
“Liar.” She studied me. “Is this about your dad? Is he being weird about trying to date again?”
“No, Dad's been great.” More than great, actually. He'd even helped me pick out the ring, though he'd suggested something approximately the size of a golf ball before Jules had intervened with a firm “absolutely not.”
“Then what—“
My phone rang through the car speakers. Flynn.
“Don't answer that,” I said quickly, but Artie was already hitting accept.
“Hey, Flynn,” she called out. “Your brother's being super weird. Want to explain?”
“Artie. Hey. Weird? Gryff? Never. He's the most normal person I know.”
“Flynn, you're literally his identical twin.”
“Right, and I'm weird as fuck, so by comparison—“
I hit end call on the console.
“Okay, that was suspicious too,” Artie said. “What are you two planning? Is this about Isak's first preseason game? Because I already know we're all flying to Miami for it.”
“It's nothing like that.”
We spent three hours at the farmers market, then another two at lunch.
Artie bought enough honey sticks to last through an apocalypse and found a vendor selling goat milk soap that she insisted Vincent and Holly would love the smell of.
I bought whatever she pointed at, agreed with everything she said, and checked my phone every thirty seconds until she threatened to throw it in the ocean.
Flynn
Status update: Backyard transformation complete. I have dirt in places dirt should never be.
Coach Maher and half the rugby team are currently hiding behind your garage. One of them brought sandwiches.
Sean's made what he calls “celebration mocktails” but won't let anyone drink them yet.
JULES SAYS HURRY UP.
“Okay, we should head back,” I said, probably too abruptly.
“But we just ordered dessert.”
“We have ice cream at home.”
She laughed but let me pay the check and guide her back to the car. The drive home was quieter, Artie dozed off against the window while I navigated Saturday afternoon traffic and tried not to have a complete nervous breakdown.
Flynn
ETA?
20 minutes
Vincent keeps trying to eat the ring box. Holly's standing guard but she's getting tired.
Also Ren says to tell you the catering arrived and if you don't get here soon, the rugby girls are going to eat everything.
Jules is now literally sitting on Parker to keep her from reorganizing the flower arrangement.
HURRY. THE. FUCK. UP.
We pulled into our driveway as the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that felt almost too perfect, like the universe was in on the plan.
“Home sweet home,” Artie said, stretching as she got out of the car. “I need to check on the goats. They probably think we abandoned them.”
“Actually, why don't we go through the house first?” I suggested, my heart hammering so hard I was sure she could hear it. “I need to... check something.”
“Check what?”
“Just... something.”
She followed me through the front door, still looking suspicious. I led her through the house, my hand finding hers. My palm was definitely sweating. She was definitely going to notice.
“Gryff, seriously, you're starting to freak me out.”
“Just... trust me?”
We reached the back door. Through the glass, I could see what Flynn and everyone had done.
The entire backyard had been transformed into something out of a dream.
Fairy lights strung between the trees, flowers everywhere, not just any flowers, but all of Artie's favorites from every place we'd ever been together.
Columbines from Colorado, wildflowers from California, even heather from Scotland that Flynn had somehow managed to source.
“Oh my god,” Artie breathed, stepping out onto the patio. “Gryff, what is this?”
Vincent and Holly were in the middle of the yard. She was in frilly pink tutu with a tiny flower wreath over her horns and Vinnie had a cowboy hat and red bandanna he was trying to chew attached to his collar... along with the ring box.
“Go see what Vincent has,” I managed, my voice not quite steady.
She walked toward the goats, still looking stunned. Holly pranced over first, clearly proud of her tutu, while Vincent stayed still, waiting. As Artie knelt down, I saw the exact moment she noticed the small box attached to Vincent's collar.
“Gryff?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
I was already on one knee when she turned around, the ring box now in my hands since Vincent had done his job.
“Artemis Ingvar Fraser,” I started, and my voice cracked immediately.
“You walked into my life six years ago with those thick thighs that could crush me and eyes on all the same hotties as me.
In all these years, you've taught me that vulnerability wasn't weakness, that feeling things deeply wasn't something to hide.”
Artie's hands were covering her mouth, tears already bubbling up along her lashes.
“You're the strongest person I know. You face every challenge head on, whether it's your dad's expectations or Olympic trials or my family's Christmas chaos. You make me braver just by being you. You make me want to be the person you already see when you look at me.”
Vincent chose that moment to headbutt my knee, nearly knocking me over. Artie laughed through her tears.
“Even our goats know we belong together,” I continued, steadying myself. “They knew before we did. Everyone knew before we did.”
“Gryff—“
“You're my best friend, my favorite person, and the love of my life. You're the first person I want to tell good news to and the only person I want beside me when things go wrong. I love your competitiveness and the way you sing off-key in the shower and think I can't hear you.”
“I'm not that off-key,” she protested, laughing and crying at the same time.
“You're completely off-key and it's perfect.” I opened the ring box, revealing an east-west oval diamond in a platinum bevel setting, not huge, not flashy, but unique and beautiful, just like her.
“I love that you convinced me to adopt goats, that you see the best in everyone except people who hurt the ones you love, and the way you fiercely protect and take care of me even though I'm the six four football player. I love your strength and your softness and everything in between.”
Holly bleated and started eating one of the flower arrangements.
“Artemis, I'm asking you, here in our backyard with our goats and a crap ton of flowers and our life that we've built together, and all the love I can carry in my heart for you... will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, not even hesitating. “Yes, of course yes, you beautiful idiot. Yes.”
I stood to slide the ring on her finger, but before I could kiss her, the bushes around our yard erupted.
“Finally,” Jules screamed, emerging from behind the garage with Flynn and Tempest.
“She said yes,” Freddie shouted, and suddenly our entire backyard was full of people.