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“Bro,” Kip says. “For God’s sake, come on.”
Everyone looks at him, then at Saxon. He purses his lips. Then he stretches out on the beanbag, lying back, rubs his hands over his face, then sinks them into his hair. His parents exchange a puzzled glance, and the others frown.
“I’m going to regret this,” he mumbles.
He gets to his feet and holds his hand out to me. Thinking we’re going to bed, I let him pull me up. But to my surprise, he only leads me forward a few steps, to the middle of the living room.
“Don’t freak out, okay?” he says. “I mean, yeah, I could see why you might, but just remember the babies.”
I glance around at the others, who all look as puzzled as I feel, except for Kip, who’s smiling.
Saxon blows out a breath. Slides a hand into the pocket of his track pants. Extracts a small, black velvet box. And opens it.
It contains a ring. With a fuck-off enormous stone.
“Catie,” he says, sinking down onto one knee. “Will you make me the happiest guy in the world and marry me?”
There’s a long silence. Everyone sits up, suddenly sober and awake. Both Mae and Kennedy clap their hands over their mouths. Damon says, “Fuck,” and for once his mother doesn’t berate him.
I blink. “What?”
“Breathe,” Saxon says. “Hyperventilation isn’t good for the boys.”
I continue to stare at the ring.
Damon gets up so he can see it. “Wow. Bro. How many carats?”
“Must be at least three,” Jackson says, also having a look.
“Jesus,” Kennedy states. “How much did that set you back? You’re talking over a hundred K, right?”
What? A hundred K? What does that mean? A hundred thousand dollars? No, that can’t be right. She must mean a thousand, surely? Even a thousand seems like a lot for a ring to me, but I know engagement rings are supposed to cost three times your wage or something.
But Saxon doesn’t correct her, and just says, “Guys, you’re not helping.”
I’m having trouble catching my breath. I look up at him.
“Well?” he asks softly.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re really asking me to marry you?”
“Yeah.”
I try to work out what he means. “For the babies? So they’ll have your name?”
“Our name. You’ll be Mrs. Catie Chevalier. My wife.”
“Mrs. Chevalier?”
“Yeah. Unless you particularly want to keep your name. I’ll be your husband. You can boss me around and tell me to pick up my socks.”
He’s trying to be funny, but I’m so shocked that my brain won’t work.
Getting to his feet, he glances around at the others. Neal’s hugging Mae, whose eyes are glistening. Kennedy whispers something to Jackson, and he shrugs and whispers back. Brandon and Jenny are holding hands, waiting. Damon’s frowning a little, as if puzzled by the whole scene. Kip’s smile has faded, and his brows draw together as he continues to study us.
