24. Give This Girl a Badge #3
Oh. Maybe he doesn’t mind them knowing we were intimate?
I feel a little silly now, but then again, this whole thing between us is so complicated when before it was the easiest thing in my life.
I almost want to go back to the way we were, even though a part of me likes how we are now.
“It just seemed personal. Quick-Draw Maeve and all,” I explain because I keep putting my foot in my mouth.
Maybe it can go farther down my throat. Hard to say since it’s past my esophagus right now.
“And, as you said, Quick-Draw Maeve isn’t going to happen again.
And hey, we’re not living together either.
Or so I hear,” he adds with a smirk. He’s clearly amused with me, or maybe at me.
Honestly, I probably deserve it. I feel a little all over the place today.
It’s hard to get my bearings with him being so damn handsome.
“Well, it’s just that there’s no reason to do it. We don’t need to live together to pull this off,” I say. Do I sound like I’m making excuses? Am I making excuses?
“Exactly. We don’t. And I promise we can pull this off,” he says, a little bossy, and I like the command in his tone.
Time to focus then on why we’re here this morning.
To get our story straight. “On Sunday night, my aunt asked me how we got together, and I mostly avoided it. But she’ll ask again when we see her,” I tell him, matter-of-factly.
“And I feel like the owners are definitely going to ask, and I want to be better prepared. The board members probably will too. We should plan what to say. So we’re on the same page. ”
“You’re right. We should.” His gaze turns serious as he leans back in the chair, his hand scrubbing across the back of his neck, his Henley stretching deliciously across his strong chest. “Especially since the media asked me that question Sunday night after the game.”
“They did?” My voice pitches up. My head spins with this new information, but of course, it makes sense they would ask him. Still, I’m dying to know how he handled it. “What did you tell them?”
His eyes are thoughtful as his gaze stays on me. “I went with what seemed like the easiest solution.” He pauses, but not like he’s hesitating—more like he’s giving this the weight it deserves. “I said it’s been going on for a while.”
Oh.
Oh wow.
My heart feels a little fluttery. I press a hand to my chest, unsure of what to do with that piece of information. Or perhaps unsure of what to do with this hummingbird beating in my heart.
“For me, at least, it seemed like the easiest way to explain everything,” he continues and there’s an intensity in his voice that feels new.
“So why don’t we say that we always planned to get married eventually?
That we started dating before the auction.
That we planned to go away to Vegas for fun, but once we were there, we just knew it was what we wanted—getting married. And we couldn’t wait.”
Flames spread inside me from the way he’s guiding me through this speed bump. From the way he’s telling our story and making it feel…so incredibly real. Like that could actually be how it happened. How we happened.
“Does that work for you, Maeve?” he asks.
It works too well, especially the way he says my name, like it tastes delicious in his mouth. “It does,” I say, trying not to sound too…aroused. Too breathy.
“Good,” he says, then leans closer. “And listen, the guys reminded me of something else. We need to announce this on social, and we need to do it soon. Or people will suspect it’s not real.”
My mind is in overdrive. There’s so much to do. So much to get right. “Right. Sure. Of course. But where do we start?”
He must sense how jittery I am, since he covers my hand with his, soothing my nervous energy. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. We’ll get you a big ring, and then we’ll get a picture for social. After brunch.”
I exhale, long, a little calmer as he takes charge so completely, like he’s wrapping an arm around me and guiding me safely across a rocky shore.
“Good plan,” I say, but then my brow furrows as I snag on one little thing.
Something that didn’t even occur to me when my friends mentioned rings.
“Buuuut.” This is awkward. We haven’t talked about money, but it’s sort of obvious I don’t make athlete bank.
“I can’t afford a big ring. We’ll get costume jewelry, right?
Or cubic zirconia. Oooh! Here’s an idea—why don’t we go to a consignment shop and find a vintage ring?
I’m an artist. I can totally pull off the look.
” I do the bling show-off move. “Oh, this art deco ring? We hunted all over Paris for it.”
He laughs. “Maeve, when did we go to Paris?”
“Let me have my fantasy.”
“Fine, but someone is going to spot the lie in that. We weren’t in Paris.”
“Okay, okay.” I sit up taller, reboot my routine. “We hunted up and down San Francisco for this ring. It’s from the 1920s. Rumor has it, it was once worn by Zelda Fitzgerald during a lavish gilded age party. Isn’t it divine?”
Asher dips his face, smiling. Then he raises it, and his smile disappears. His eyes hold mine. “Maeve, I’m buying you a big, beautiful, gorgeous ring. And that’s that.”
Oh. Well. Bossy Asher is in the house. “Asher, you can’t—”
He sets his finger on my lips. “I can. But more so, I want to.”
I swallow and try to protest, but I can’t find it in me when he’s so…determined to get what he wants. For me. “If you insist.”
“I do.” Asher checks his watch. “Actually, that story part didn’t take long at all. We’ve got an hour. Let’s get you a ring now. There’s a jewelry shop up the street.”
My pulse speeds once again. Everything is happening so fast, but when he rises and reaches for my hand, I don’t hesitate to take his in mine.
I like the way he sets the pace. I like that he’s bossy.
Most of all, I really like that it’s only us going ring shopping, and that he never lets go of my hand the whole time as we walk to the shop.
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