CHAPTER 8 KAYLEE
Holy. Shit.
My hands fly to my mouth to cover a gasp of shock as his words filter through the buzz.
He’s just doing this to support our plan, right? To make it look real.
Except…
Did he just say he genuinely wants to marry me? That this isn’t for show? It’s a blur. I have no idea what he actually said, and the blood rushing through my head and pounding in my ears makes it hard to remember.
I thought he was dragging me somewhere private so we could screw around a little. This is wholly unexpected.
I stare down at him for a few silent beats as I try to reconcile what’s happening.
And it’s then that I realize he’s waiting for an answer.
I’m terrified to say yes.
I’m terrified I’ll only get hurt in the end.
I know I will only get hurt in the end. A man doesn’t just change his mind overnight, and there are still an awful lot of big questions on the table.
But I committed to this thing we’re doing—I committed to him—and I won’t let him down…even if we have to talk about what that means later.
Even if I’m setting myself up for even more pain later on.
“Yes,” I say softly as a wide smile spreads across my lips.
His hitched up shoulders seem to relax a little at my single word answer. He slips a large, oval diamond ring onto my finger, and he stands and pulls me into his arms. I want to tell him I love him, too, but he kisses me softly, swallowing my words as he tightens his grip around me.
Maybe I don’t need to say it back. He said it, but maybe that was for show, too.
Except I swear he said something about it being genuine. Was he being recorded? Is that why he said the L word?
Or did he mean it?
“Happy birthday,” he says close to my ear as we embrace, and as his lips move back to mine, I hear a loud boom overhead. I jump at the sound, and as I glance up at the sky, I see a firework as it showers down above us, followed closely by another and another.
“Did you do this?” I ask.
He chuckles and nods, and I lean into his chest as we watch the show. But we don’t really get much chance to watch the show because the party guests storm the rooftop in our direction.
Kate gets to me first, and she pulls me into a hug. “Happy birthday and congratulations. You two were perfect.”
I nod and offer a weak smile. I wasn’t trying to be perfect. I was just answering the question my boyfriend asked.
Luke is waiting behind Kate. “You okay?” he asks me.
I nod as tears heat behind my eyes. Of course he’d know something’s a little off.
He studies me a beat, and then he kisses my cheek and says, “Happy birthday.”
He doesn’t acknowledge the engagement since he thinks it’s fake…and to be honest, I’m still confused as to whether it is or isn’t, too.
I spot Jack saying something I can’t hear to Ben, probably warning him about treating me right, and then Ellie grabs me up into a hug next. “Oh my God, Kay. That was freaking gorgeous. Just wait until you see the pics I got on my phone, never mind the photographer Ben hired.”
Right. The photographer Ben hired.
Because it’s a show.
Professional photos to stick up on our Instagram to gain more social proof.
That’s all this is.
My chest feels heavy. I want this to be real for us so badly, but I just don’t think that’s where he is despite what he just said to me.
My mom squeezes me next, followed by Jeb, and even the two of them are in on the show. They’re all pretending they’re happy for our impending nuptials when they know that it’s never really going to happen.
This isn’t really how I imagined my twenty-third birthday beginning.
A year ago—even a couple months ago—Ben was just the immature goon my brothers hung out with. And now…he’s my fiancé.
Sarah, Maddie, Meg, and Alyssa offer their congratulations and bid me a happy birthday next, and then Cory, Eric, and Jaxon swing by with their dates along with more of Ben’s buddies from the Aces and from around town.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, Ellie presses a glass of champagne into my hand, and I practically chug that down along with another.
Champagne on top of vodka probably isn’t my smartest move, but it’s helping numb the racing thoughts in my mind.
The fireworks end and the party resumes and everything is back to normal for everybody else. But for me, everything has changed.
Ten minutes ago, I wasn’t wearing this enormous diamond on my finger. Now I am, and I have no idea what it means.
I stop after that second glass of champagne, mostly because I feel like I need to have a talk with Ben, and I don’t want to miss my chance tonight because I drank too much.
We party a little longer before we start to say our goodbyes.
We’re quiet in the car that some stranger drives, and I lean my head on his shoulder as I stare down at the new hardware on the third finger of my left hand.
I move my hand around, straightening out my fingers as I watch the diamond glint in the passing streetlights as we head toward home, and Ben is quiet as he stares out the window.
I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
It’s unlike him to be so introspective, but I get not wanting to have the sort of discussion we need to have in the back of a Lyft.
Once the front door latches shut behind him, though…that seems like the right time.
Exhaustion hits me, and my head is pounding again, but I say the words that I’ve been thinking since he slid the oval diamond onto my finger earlier. “We need to talk.”