Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
A position – like seeing a reverse-rake rear window on a modern car – I wasn’t expecting to ever see him in.
I assumed I would be the one to find rings.
Learn about their specs.
Do the KBB research equivalence for jewelry.
Come up with a giant gesture for them.
Have it most likely involve tires and carnauba wax.
I just assumed I would be the one to put in the actual work while he just kind of grunted that the shit was happening, and we could go to the nearest courthouse whenever.
That it wasn’t a big deal because we’re already together.
That the rest is just paperwork.
I didn’t expect him to put in thought.
Or planning.
How long has he had these?
How long has he been keeping this a secret?
What other secrets does he have?
“Open them,” he politely but firmly commands, voice so uneven I’m tempted not to. “Please.”
Picking up the Ferrari red paper covered object is simple, a lot like coyly grinning at the fact that even the wrapping has meaning.
Bunny and I manage to get our gifts uncovered at the same time as well as open our boxes simultaneously.
The round object inside is black and detailed with a pattern that makes it look more like a mini tire than something that belongs on someone’s hand.
Unless that hand belongs to a gearhead.
Like me.
“I can’t think of a better time,” my best friend begins, recollecting our gazes, “than our first Christmas,” the unspoken details of this McAdams free point in our relationship are felt in spite of not being proclaimed, “or place – in front of the family that kept me alive,” he casually tips his head the Garcias, “to ask the one that gives me a reason to live,” a nod towards us is executed, “to be that forever.”
Air gets sharply sucked in by our girl while I merely stop breathing altogether.
Clinch the box tighter.
“Bunny-”
“You rarely call me Bunny,” she whispers in disbelief. “It’s weird.”
“I want you,” Nolan smoothly slips his fingers round hers, “to be my wife.” His eyes immediately shift to me. “His wife.” They land back on hers alongside a heartfelt grin. “Our. Wife.” There’s no room for an actual rebuttal – though I honestly don’t think she has one. “Kipp-”
“You usually call me Kid,” I croak back at a hushed volume. “Bunny’s right.” Playfully smirking can’t be helped. “It is weird.”
“I want you to be my husband.”
How one word can be so foreign and familiar makes it the Le Mans race of language.
“Her husband.” Nolan’s other hand covers mine to lovingly grip it. “Our. Husband.”
Ignoring the unpredicted tremble in my jaw is difficult.
Almost impossible.
“Will you both,” our boyfriend noticeably tightens his grips, “marry me and each other?”
“Yes,” airily leaves Bunny alongside an enthusiastic nod as she practically flies to the very edge of the couch. “Yes.” The corner of her lips curling upward precedes her leaning in closer to his face. “You can definitely put me in the yes column!”
Light laughter flutters out of them both prior to them turning their stare to me. When I don’t immediately respond or agree or shove my tongue into his mouth demonstrating my acceptance, he quirks a curious eyebrow. “Kid?”
I know there should be no hesitation, but there is.
And I’m not sure why.
Is it because I wanted to be the one to ask them?
Is it because I already feel like he fucking drives everywhere, and we just follow?
That he did this because he has to be the one in fucking control?
To call all the shots?
To pick the route?
And the destination?
And the speed?
Is it something else?
Is it possible for something to feel right and check engine light off at the same time?
Wait.
Is he doing this simply because Bunny’s preggers?
Or because he wants a more bulletproof legal tint job for when McAdams’s death bullshit comes to the starting line?
Shit.
Is this because his parents may be hunting us next?
Does he think that marriage will somehow protect us?
Add to our protection?
“Why,” thoughtlessly leaks out, shocking us all. “Why now?”
Is it because he has an audience?
Because he thinks doing it in front of Garcia will cause me to permanently store my jealousy that gets a little Gone in Sixty Seconds better of me at times?
“Why. Not?” the returned challenge successfully re-silences me.
Huh.
I…
I…don’t know that I have a good answer to that either.
“Kid,” both of his hands suddenly plant themselves on the edges my knees, “when do you buy a new car?”
“October. November. December. Dealerships are eager to get shit out of the way for new ones or to make sales quotas.”
“Or?”
“Holiday events, obviously. There are typically promotions. Special benefits to entice a buyer to commit especially if they’re on the fence.”
“Or?”
“When a new model of a vehicle is released. They tend to offer significant discounts on the older one as they’re trained to push the new arrival, which is likely – though not always – to have better specs.”