And after I all but screamed, “Yes,” he slid the five-carat-diamond beauty onto my finger with ease before scooping me up in his Thor-like arms, carrying me into our bedroom and onto the bed.
For the next thirty minutes, no words were exchanged while he devoured, kissed, and licked every inch of my body, the two of us coming together in a soiree of love, lust, and insatiable desire. We lay in bed afterward, falling asleep in each other’s arms, basking in thoughts of our future, thoughts of what was meant to come.
31
Weeks fly by when you’re prancing around on cloud nine.
And with graduation quickly approaching, along with the list of events that would bring Lucas closer to the start of his NFL career, I was surprised I still knew how to breathe.
Life for us got a little cray-cray after Lucas proposed. I went on a few interviews for some of the magazines I’d applied to—some in person and some via Skype, uncertain if I’d made a lasting impression. Then, a week later, Lucas took me with him to New York to sign his pretty spectacular contract, the money from his signing bonus hitting his account hours later.
Looking at all those zeros, floored me—him, too. But before Lucas scheduled time to meet with his accountant back in Los Angeles, he wanted to take advantage of our weekend in New York. Dinner, a Broadway show. Horse and carriage ride through Central Park. A selfie in front of the famous Sex and the City Brownstone that Sage, Chloe, and I never got a chance to go to, even though it was on our Single In New York things-to-do list.
Lucas surveyed the brownstone’s picturesque facade. “We need to buy a house.”
“We? Don’t you mean,you?” Who knew why my mouth said stupid shit sometimes, exposing my mile-long list of insecurities.
“It’sourmoney, baby,ourlife. Don’t get weird about it, okay?” He pulled me into his arms. “Now tell me, Penthouse in Manhattan or Brownstone in Soho?”
We spent the next day touring properties with a real estate agent recommended by his agent, square feet upon luxury square feet wooing my eyes and heart. I’d always dreamed of a life in New York, albeit a less fancy one, complete with roommates and a pet ferret, like Jen A’s character in the movieAlong Came Polly.I was overwhelmed, dazed, and even crazier in love with a guy who was offering me the world.
After viewing over a dozen highly-priced potential abodes, Lucas and I asked to see one of the lesser-priced ones—an enormous six thousand square-foot, six-bedroom penthouse condo, complete with a doorman, located in the heart of Tribeca. We immediately fell head over heels for everything, the condo’s modern decadence swallowing our hearts.
Lucas linked his hand with mine as we walked through the gourmet kitchen. “This feels like us, doesn’t it, baby?” He made sure the real estate agent was out of earshot. “I can see myself fucking you from behind right up against that cool marble counter.”
I hushed him, my face feeling flush, clit fanning herself. “You better behave yourself before the pearl-clenching real estate agent runs out of here after getting a glimpse of that anaconda-sized bulge in your pants.”
We ended up making a cash offer on the Tribeca condo, the agent assuring Lucas the offer would be accepted right away. Sure enough it was, the text notification striking Lucas’s phone as we were boarding our flight back to Los Angeles.
“Lookslike everything’s falling into place for you two.” Mom sipped on cinnamon-stick coffee as I sat beside her on the swing in my parents’ enormous backyard.
I inhaled the hot brew in my cup, cinnamon tickling my nose before I sipped. “Yep, sure is.”
Mom rocked the swing back and forth, a pair of vetting eyes assessing me. “What’s the matter?”
I shook my head in denial. “Nothing. Everything is great.”
“Macy Cakes?” she probed.
Hesitantly, I opened up. “It’s just that I feel like…” I trailed off, not wanting to say what had plagued my mind because, in all honesty, life was shaping up pretty damn spectacularly. New home to go to when we finally moved to New York after graduation; access to the clothing from sponsors Lucas signed with; the promise of a lifestyle envied by most women all over the world; a fairy-tale wedding on my birthday in front of family and friends in October.
Mom’s finger grazed the bottom of my chin, tilting my head up and over to meet her gaze. “Honey, you can tell me anything.”
Fighting hesitance, I spoke softly, as if the low tone would be a veil that would mask my words. “Lucas has promised me the world, and I love him for that, love that he has no expectations of me contributing financially. But I want success too,my ownsuccess, a career in journalism, a career in writing.”
“Honey, you are moving to New York City, a place full of reputable magazines that you can apply to. I’m sure one of them will—”
“I’ve already received an offer,” I interjected. “FromCosmo.”
“Wow, sweetie,” she squealed. “That’s awesome! I know you’ve always dreamed of working for them. When did you get the offer? And what’s the position?”
“Got the phone call from the HR director yesterday, followed by an email with the official offer. It’s super entry-level, assistant to a social media director, no doubt doing very assistant-cliché duties like coffee runs, etcetera. They’re giving me up till four weeks after graduation to accept or turn it down.” I stared straight ahead at the swimming pool, my voice now monotone. It was the first time I’d shared the news aloud; sharing the news via text with Chloe and Sage seemed easier, and I made them both promise to die before they told Lucas.
“Okay? We all know magazine jobs start at the bottom.”
I nodded, aware that I’d always have to start low, never expecting to get lucky enough to receive the same grand-slam offer like the one I dissed fromHot Shot.
“So, what’s the problem, sweetie?” Mom reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
