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“That someone could settle you down,” Camden filled in.
“Ah, well, you know …”
Camden arched an eyebrow in my direction. “Because that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Some of this is an excuse to be with her.”
“No way,” Court said with a laugh. He shook his head. “Come on, Camden. This is Gavin. Since when hasn’t he been against marriage?”
“Since he stopped fucking everything that walked,” he said bluntly.
I didn’t respond to that. Just met Camden’s cool look with a resolute one of my own. He wasn’t … wrong. I’d stopped fucking around last year after Court and English’s engagement party. I’d sat on the sidelines at their celebration as they promised to sayI doand realized that I had nothing. Lark and Sam were already married. Camden and Katherine had two kids and somehow didn’t just tolerate each other, but also loved one another. Court and English had long been smitten, but were officially tying the knot.
All of that, and what did I had? Some blonde on my arm, whose name I didn’t even remember. She’d tried to get me to bring her back to my place, but I wasn’t into it after that. I’d dropped her off and gone home alone that night. And I wondered why I hadn’t been able to pick up casual dating the way I had before that night.
I was a King. The eternal bachelor. I could get any girl I wanted. And yet one look at the girl with lavender hair, and I’d been willing to risk it all.
Was it ridiculous to want what my friends all had? Was it even more ridiculous to hope that Whitley came around too?
“You’re really doing this,” Court said, interpreting my silence as confirmation.
“He really is,” Sam said.
“I am.”
There was no use in denying it. Not in the minutes before our official engagement announcement would take place. If I was going to back out, now would be the moment.
And then Whitley entered our midst with my friends’ wives trailing behind her. My heart stopped in my chest. She was in a long-sleeved white dress that hit her knees. The material plunged between her breasts before cinching in a ribbon belt around the middle. Her bright pink hair had been artfully put up in a low bun with tendrils framing her face. She looked like a goddess, and I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and carry her away from all of this.
“Well, that’s what we were going for,” English said triumphantly.
“What?” I asked dumbly.
Whitley laughed as I drew her into my arms and pressed a kiss to her soft pink lips. “You’re … kind of drooling.”
I snorted. “I would never.”
“Your eyes went all dark, and you looked like you were going to caveman-throw me over your shoulder.”
“That,” I said, my voice a rasp, “is dangerously close to what I was thinking.”
She giggled, and it was music to my ears. I drew her harder against me. I wasmarryingthis woman. I couldn’t deny that the idea was satisfying regardless. She would be mine. Shewasmine.
“All right,” English said, checking her phone, “ready for this?”
“It’s like having our own publicist,” Whitley said, extracting herself from my arms.
English shot her a look. “You’re lucky you don’t have to pay me.”
Whitley pulled her into a hug. “Bestie does bestie shit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” English grumbled.
Our friends went first into Club 360. Camden had reserved the rooftop bar for our private use for the evening. Everyone who was anyone would be there. Including a few discreet reporters who English had let in to write the correct things about our hasty engagement. All that was left was the actual announcement.
Whitley was staring down at her fresh manicure instead of up at me. Her brow was creased in concentration, and her eyes were narrowed. I wasn’t used to seeing this level of contemplation on her usually playful face.
“Are you okay?”
She jerked out of her trance. “Just … wondering if we’re doing the right thing.”
