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“I’m not answering that.”
“Why not?”
“Because once you know, it’ll be that much harder for you to walk away. I won’t drag you into my world.”
I reached out to play with the silver cross that hung around his neck. “Where are you from?”
His lips twitched. “A kingdom far, far away.”
“You’re impossible.”
He caught my hand and brought it to his lips. “And you’re irresistible. I guess we’re even.”
Twenty-Four
Piper
The next twoweeks went by in a blur. Between classes, spending time with my family, hanging out with Shawn, and giving Sam every spare second I had, I barely had time to breathe. It was a good kind of busy though, comfortable and exciting at the same time.
“Hey, Piper.” Papa greeted me when I walked into the kitchen where he was working at the island. “What’s on the calendar tonight?”
“I’m meeting Shawn at Youngblood as soon as he gets out of class. Why? What’s up?”
Papa closed his laptop and pushed his glasses up into his hair. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute.”
I reached for a mug and the nearly empty coffeepot. “About what?”
“You know I don’t believe in the tradition of asking the father for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
My hand jerked, sloshing coffee over the counter and handle of my mug. “Shit.” I grabbed the washcloth that hung over the sink faucet and started mopping up the mess.
“Who you marry is your decision, not mine—and for the record, I did try to rein in your mamma’s matchmaking plans—but I do have one request.”
I couldn’t look at him. What the heck had brought this conversation on? It’s not like Sam was going to ask for my hand anytime soon, or ever. “What’s that?” I asked, pausing with my hand back on the coffeepot.
“Could you give me a heads-up if you’re planning on running off to get married? I’d like a little warning before I have to give up my little girl.”
“Papa, I don’t think Sam’s going to be asking me to marry him.”
“Then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought. I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you, sweetheart. If he had half a brain, he’d be securing his future before you get tired of waiting.”
I made a noncommittal noise and took a sip of caffeine. Papa proposed to Mamma after six weeks of dating. In his world, when you met the one, you just knew and jumped headfirst into the rest of your life.
Downing what was left of my coffee, I dumped the mug in the dishwasher and headed out of the kitchen, already texting my driver. I’d be early for my meeting with Shawn, but it was better than talking to my father about proposals.
* * *
Twenty minutes later,I was sitting at the bar in Youngblood, waiting for Gayle to make her way to my end. It was a busy night, the kind that meant Gayle wouldn’t have time to chat, and I had a good hour before Shawn would be here.
Taking out my phone, I opened Facebook and was greeted by a collage of romantic pictures captioned“Fiancée” has a pretty nice ring to it. *winking emoji*A high school friend I hadn’t seen since graduation was tagged in the post. I stared at the picture, at the solitaire diamond on his fiancée’s finger.
He wasn’t the first friend of mine to get engaged, not even close, but there was something about the post that hit differently than when I’d seen other engagement announcements.
I read the words again and again.“Fiancée” has a nice ring to it.It did sound good—important and special. It sounded a lot better than “fuck buddy” did. Sam had never actually called me that, but it’s what I was, wasn’t it? I wasn’t his girlfriend, and I sure as hell wasn’t his fiancée.
“Uh-oh,” Gayle said. “Do I want to know what happened?” I hadn’t noticed her come over, but she stood right in front of me.
I let the screen of my phone go dark. Not that it mattered—I could still see the post perfectly in my memory.
