We walk backto the hotel and I’m still wound tight. Still replaying the moment.
“You would have actually hit him,” Juliette says.
“Yes.”
“In front of my entire family.”
“Yep.”
“At my sister’s rehearsal dinner.”
“If he’d actually tried, yeah.”
She laughs softly. “Have you ever actually fought anyone? Off the ice?”
“No. But I would’ve figured it out.”
She laughs, louder this time. “You’re unbelievable.”
Back at the hotel we get ready for bed. She takes off her makeup, changes into pajamas. I brush my teeth, trying to shake off the adrenaline.
When I come out she’s already in bed, sitting up.
“I’m sorry,” she says immediately.
“For what?”
“For tonight. For you having to watch me walk with him. For Garrett trying to talk to me. For all of it.”
I climb into bed next to her. “You don’t have to apologize for him being an asshole.”
“I know but I saw your face. During the rehearsal. You looked?—”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah. And something else. Like you were somewhere else entirely.”
Busted.
“I was thinking about something.”
She snuggles into my chest, into the spot that’s become hers. “Tell me?”
“Nothing. Just...” I pause, then say it casually, like I’m suggesting we order pizza. “Let’s get married, JuJu.”
She goes completely still. “What?”
“Get married. You and me.”
She pulls back to look at me. “Rodriguez, we’ve been together for less than twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah, but I like you. You like me. We’re good together.”
“That’s not how marriage works!”
“Why not?” Her face looks like she can’t decide if she wants to laugh or strangle me. “I mean, not tomorrow. But someday. When you’re ready.”
She’s fighting a smile. “You can’t just casually propose while we’re in bed after my sister’s rehearsal dinner.”
