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I can deny Nate all I want. Who am I fooling? Everyone knows I want him back in my life. Even my friends weren’t convinced at lunch. So, Nate must know how I feel, right? How could he not?
We leave my office without uttering a single word. In the executive lobby, we find a group of coders lounging on leather couches, arguing over who will win the challenge for the week. Richard awards the employee with the most points a bonus. They never know how much they will receive or if it will be monetary. One year, he gave a senior programmer a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. Ever since, the guys have competed on their lunch breaks and after-hours, hoping for the ultimate score.
“I guess we can’t throw our hats in the ring,” I say to Nate, tipping my head toward the group. “Since we’re senior management.”
He shakes his head. “No. But we could start our own game… if you want.”
I cock my head at him, amused. “What do you have in mind?”
Nate hits the button on the wall, the elevator doors open, and he sweeps me in his arms, pushing me inside. The doors close before anyone can step inside the car with us. He pins my back to the wall, raising my hands above my head as his lips hover over mine.
“I dare you not to fall in love with me,” he says in a hushed tone.
I laugh in his face. “Like that would ever happen.”
Nate’s long fingers graze the side of my face. “I bet you’ll fall in love with me by our wedding night.”
“Never gonna happen,” I challenge. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”
“I know you, Harley, and I know what you want. I know what makes you tick.”
“Okay, Casanova,” I quip. “If you somehow manage to make me fall in love with you, what do you get in return?”
“You,” he says without hesitation. “And you have to take my last name.”
I press my lips together, thinking over my response. “And if you fail, what do I get?”
“What do you want?”
You. My best friend. The boy I loved so deeply I had to move across the country to get away. I wish I could say those things to him. Instead, I mutter something stupid, something I can’t take back.
“I want you to let me go,” I say, resolute.
His eyes find mine as the elevator reaches the ground floor. “Then, I guess I have my work cut out for me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nate
What was I thinking?
I gambled everything on a stupid bet, one I can’t afford to lose. Mark my words, Harley will fall madly in love with me by the time we say I do. There’s no way I am letting her go, not after years of waiting for her to return.
Lacing my fingers between hers, I lead Harley toward the back of the jewelry store, where Angelo is waiting behind a counter with sapphire and diamond rings on display. Harley wants an engagement ring fit for a royal, the closest replica to Princess Diana’s she can find. She doesn’t think I know her anymore, but not much has changed about her. She drew her ideal engagement ring in her sketchbooks when we were kids. I’ve watched over her shoulder as she envisioned a wedding fit for every Jane Austen fan.
“Angelo,” I say as we approach the elderly store owner. “Thanks for closing the store for us.”
“My pleasure, Mr. King.” He dips his head low, a bright smile plastered on his withered face. “How is your father?”
Angelo helped my father select an engagement ring for my mother over thirty years ago. But this is my first time buying jewelry for a woman. I never had a reason to step foot inside his store until now. And because it’s for Harley, I’d asked Angelo to show us his best gems. I’ll spare no expense when it comes to making Harley happy.
“He’s good,” I say as I shake his hand. “Busy with work. He hasn’t had much need for jewels since my mom left.”
As usual, I say something to make the mood uncomfortable. I have to work on that.
Angelo gives me a closed-mouth smile and waves his hand across the counter, where several velvet jewelry trays are on display for us. “I have a limited selection of sapphire and diamond rings. If none of these meet your approval, I can design a custom ring.”
Harley’s eyes widen as she looks at the jewels, covering her mouth with her hands. She stares, unblinking, not moving an inch. Is she excited, nervous, wishing she could back out? I wish she would say something because the suspense of not knowing is killing me.
Angelo slides one of several velvet jewelry trays in front of Harley. She lowers her hands from her mouth and taps her nails on the glass counter. Some of the rings have more diamonds than sapphires, where others are a perfect mixture of both stones. But only one ring in this set resembles what Harley drew when we were kids.
