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“No, I’m fine. I’m just nervous. Like, I feel like I might puke I’m so nervous.”
“You don’t say.” Nigel mumbles, wryly, eyeing him. “You don’t have to be nervous. I can assure you, with complete confidence, that Sam will say yes.”
My lips twitch, and I shoot a look at Nigel, who winks at me. Troy rubs a hand through his hair, vigorously.
“No, I know. I don’t know why I’m nervous. We’ve talked about getting married, and it’sSam. My Sam. But I’ve been trying to come up with a plan, you know? Something special.” He explains.
“What’d you come up with?” I ask, curiously. I’ve never once considered how I might ask someone to marry me, but suddenly a vision of Nigel in a tuxedo flashes through my mind. It’s an effort not to look over at him.
“Not a damn thing.” Troy looks at me with wide, beseeching grey eyes. “How do you ask someone to marry you?”
“Well,” I start, slowly, “maybe it doesn’t need to be anything special. Maybe you can just ask him when the timing feels right.”
“Italwaysfeels right. Hell, I thought about asking him when he showed up at the hotel in Jersey!”
“Corwin is right. You don’t have to do something crazy, you just have to ask him in a way that makes him feel loved. It could be at the dinner table, for all it matters.” Nigel tells him.
“Okay. Okay.” Troy nods so vigorously it looks like it hurts his neck. He’s practically vibrating with pent-up energy. “I can do this.”
“You can.” I confirm, firmly. I let go of his arm.
“I’ve had a ring for months, but I couldn’t decide how to ask him. I need to just do it. He’s not going to care if we’re just at home when I ask.” He looks confident for a few moments before his eyes find mine once more, anxiety creeping back in. “Right?”
“Right. You know Sam better than anyone. Trust your gut.”
“My gut absolutely cannot be trusted.” Troy says, and we laugh. He grins, blushing, dimples finally making an appearance. His cheeks puff out as he blows out a hard breath. “I’ve got to get going, huh?”
“Definitely. Go get yourself engaged. I can’t wait to hear about it tomorrow.” Nigel says, kindly, and Troy beams at him.
“Thanks. You’ll be together tomorrow, right?” He asks, looking between us.
“We will.” I confirm.
“I’ll call you, let you guys know how it goes. If that’s okay.”
“We’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
Troy moves forward and wraps his arms around me. Surprised, it takes me a moment to return the gesture; he’s already stepping away when I put my arms around him and pull him back. Holding on seconds longer than I usually would, I try to convey without words how much I love him. When we break away, Troy hugs a waiting Nigel as well, before hopping in his car. We wait, watching as he drives off.
Nigel shakes his head, grinning fondly. “He’s kind of fantastic.”
“The best.”
Holding open the passenger side door for him, I brush my hand over his lower back as he climbs in. I have to fight the urge to look around the parking lot and verify nobody saw. The second I’m seated behind the wheel, door closed, Nigel reaches a hand across the console with a smile. Sliding my fingers between his, I drive us home.
Walking in the front door, I flip on the entry light. It’s late enough for the sun to be down, and the house is dark and quiet. Behind me, Nigel closes the door and places his hands on my hips, kissing the back of my neck. Smiling, I look over my shoulder at him.
“That was a long road trip.” He tells me, squeezing his hands.
“All-Star weekend is coming up soon. It’ll be nice to have the time off.” I turn, putting my hands on his shoulders before sliding them up to cup his neck.
“Weren’t you invited?” Nigel asks, surprised.
“Not this year.” I laugh at the annoyed look on his face. “Troy was, though. It’s okay. I’m actually excited to have the weekend off, for once. Since you’re here.”
“I’m glad too. I would have hated being left behind with Lawson, while you and Troy go have fun in Vegas.”
Pulling him toward me, I smile into the kiss. Dropping my hands from his neck, Nigel gives me another quick peck, whisperingI love youagainst my mouth before he lets go of my hips. Every time he says it, I have to remind myself to breathe;I love you, too, I think, as he moves past me toward the kitchen, knowing that’s where I’m headed. I follow after him, wishing I had said it back. He doesn’t seem to mind that I haven’t, but maybe it’s because he already knows I do and am just not ready to voice it yet.
