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“Oh my gosh,” I say, looking at Nadia. We both start laughing as, next to me, Grayson grabs a cloth napkin and hands it to me to try to soak up some of the liquid that’s now running down my entire front.
“And the jinx lives on!” Nadia exclaims, and everybody cheers.
LATER THAT NIGHT, I’M SITTING on the beach next to Grayson, listening to the waves crash against the shore and the low tones of music in the distance where Nadia and Shane’s reception is still going strong. Her nani really knows how to keep the dancing going. We had to sneak out to get away.
She even got me to dance, and I’m still not sure how I let her do that. But I’d already spilled booze down my dress—what were the odds I’d do it again?
High, actually.
I didn’t ruin anyone else’s clothing, thank goodness. I’m mostly dry now, and I only lasted a few dances before escaping. Two fast and one slow where I danced with Grayson. And yes, I did step on his foot, but only once.
Now as we sit on the beach, I can’t help all the questions running through my mind. Like,What happens when we go back? What does this all mean? How do you feel about me? How are we going to navigate this whole thing?
I know what he said earlier today when we were standing by my hotel room. About breaking up with Fake Dave because I’ve got someone new now. But, seriously, what does that actually mean?
I think I’ll wait to ask him when we get back to Denver. I’m not ready to pop the bubble we’re in with all my craziness. But I’m having strong feelings for Grayson. I always have—I just tried to tamp them down. But now that I’ve released them, they feel stronger than they probably should at this point. We just started … whatever we started. I need to not get ahead of myself.
I just really want to marry him and have his babies, okay? There, I said it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.
“Oh, just … life,” I say, sounding like a moron. But that’s better than,“Can you define this relationship in detail please? Also, what would you like to name our first son?”
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, directing the question back, before I do say or ask something I’ll regret.
He squeezes my hand. “Just about all the things I have to do when we get home.”
“Oh,’’ I say, sort of disappointed he wasn’t thinking about me, and then I feel dumb for feeling that way. Because of course he’d be thinking about work. He has a lot on his plate. And also, the world doesn’t revolve around me, as much as I’d sometimes like it to. Like right now.
He lets out a breath. “And how I’d kind of rather not go back.”
“Should we run away together?” I ask, and then feel stupid for saying that.
He lifts our combined hands up to his mouth and kisses mine. “You have no idea how good that sounds.”
I shrug. Running away with Grayson sounds amazing to me, actually. “Let’s not think about all our responsibilities right now,” I say.
“I do have a question, though,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“What’s my nickname?”
“Oh no,” I say, shaking my head.
“Come on,” he says.
“I hate Nadia so much right now.”
“I would have remembered anyway,” he says. “So, tell me.”
I sigh. “Fine. It’s BILK.”
“BILK?” he asks, confusion on his face.
“It’s an acronym. Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing,” I say.
“What does it stand for?”
