Page 107 of Used

“Marry me.” I say, my voice firm and sure.

Selene goes silent, and her face is blank, which is never a good thing with her.

“Have you even told her that you love her?” Selene asks, setting down the ring she had been playing with in her hand.

“Well, yeah. Of course.” I reply hesitantly with a shrug. “That was part of the marriage proposal thing.”

“Thing?” Selene practically shrieks before looking at Gunnar wide-eyed. “Did he just call a marriage proposal a ‘thing?’ Did that really just come out of his mouth? Dime que estoy alucinando.” Tell me I’m hallucinating.

Gunnar chuckles at Selene’s dramatics. “You are, unfortunately, very much lucid.”

“What? I did the right thing, right? I told her I love her and asked her to marry me. That’s what you’re supposed to do!” I say, becoming increasingly more frustrated the longer this conversation goes on.

“Dude.” Gunnar interrupts, looking at his fiancée in apology. “If there’s one thing we’re taught, it’s not to make big decisions after sex. Don’t tell people you love them, and definitely don’t ask them to marry you.”

“No one told me that,” I grumble.

Selene looks completely bewildered.

“Let me get this straight,” Selene says, taking a deep breath. “You asked Elsie, our Elsie, ice queen of the oil industry Elsie, to marry you right after telling her you love her?”

“Yes?” I reply questioningly.

“Did you even have a ring?” She asks, gesturing with another ring she’s picked up from the box on the counter.

“No....”

“You are so royally fucked, Marshall.” Selene sighs, shaking her head before looking back up at me. “Have you ever even thought to ask her why she might be so opposed to the idea of marriage? Why everything she’s ever achieved she’s literally done on her own?”

“No?” I say sheepishly.

“Oh, Marshall. Sweet baby Marshall.” She sighs. “We need to have a big sis talk, okay?”

“Okay?”

“I’m guessing we’re finishing this another day?” Gunnar asks.

“Yes,” Selene replies, grabbing her bag off the counter. “This requires tequila.”

“Beer,” Gunnar replies.

“Vodka.” Selene quips back.

“Whiskey.” I chime in, and they both give me incredulous looks. “What? I thought we were naming types of alcohol.”

Selene turns back to Gunnar. “Vodka. Final offer.”

“Deal.” He says, extending his hand. “But none of the shitty stuff.”

She takes his hand and gives him a firm shake. “Deal.”

“What the hell did I just witness?” I ask.

“Communication,” Gunnar says.

“And negotiation,” Selene adds. “Two things you could stand to learn a thing or two about. But first, you need to go shopping.”

“What for?” I ask, curious about where her mind is going.

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