“Rosie,” he grits out.
My knees wobble, and the room spins just a little. I feel like I’m going to pass out—from stress, certainly not from any sort of joy.
“We can make it work, baby,” he goes on, ignoring my panic. “Whatever you’re worried about, we’ll get through it together. We’re a team.”
His eyes plead with me, begging me to give in.
They sayRosie, I need you.
And isn’t that what I’ve wanted for years? For Daire Hendricks to need me?
But not like this.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I bite out, not one bit happy about it. Jaw clenched, I narrow my eyes, silently telegraphing a clearyou owe me.
I’m not doing it forthisDaire. The one who’s combative. The guy I’ve grown to loathe. I’m doing it for Daire, the boy who was once my best friend.
He gets up and pulls me into his arms, swinging me around. I roll my eyes as he spins me. This ridiculous display is solely for Bertie’s benefit. Asshole.
He lowers me to the ground, and as I right myself, I take a step back, ready to put some distance between us.
Daire has other ideas. His warm hands swallow my face, and I barely have a second to comprehend what’s happening before his mouth is on mine.
I used to fantasize about this moment. I was certain he’d be my first kiss, my last too, and every one in between. But that never happened. Now, I’m finally getting a kiss from my childhood Prince Charming, but it’s a kiss full of lies. A show for Bertie’s benefit.
My body feels like ice, and yet it traitorously angles into him, responding to the way his mouth curves over mine. He slides one hand from my face, down my side, and settles it on my waist.
Twelve-year-old me is screaming with glee because I’m kissing Daire Hendricks.
Twenty-one-year-old-me hates that I like it.
My lips part beneath his of their own accord, and in response, he sweeps his tongue inside my mouth with gentle strokes.
Bertie makes a squeaking sound that has Daire letting me go and backing up to put a good foot of space between us. His eyes are hooded, and his normally light blue irises have darkened to a denim color. Chest rising and falling with labored breaths, he gives me a funny look, his gaze lingering on my mouth for a smidge too long.
“I didn’t even know you two were dating!”
Bertie looks like the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes have tripled in size. She looks like she’s going to swoon at any moment. All her anger and annoyance at Tommy has vanished. She’s a sucker for love. The girl’s room is lined with romance books, and we’ve just handed her what looks like an epic love story that I’ve been keeping a secret.
Frankly, I want to shake her for thinking I’d hide something like this from her, but that’s Bertie. She lives in her own little world most of the time.
“Six months, right, babe?” Daire recovers first, wrapping an arm around my waist and closing the space he created between us only a moment ago.
I plaster on a smile. It would be easy to tell her it was a joke. But instead, my mouth takes over and, with a mind of its own, says, “We reconnected over the summer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bertie skips toward the kitchen, practically floating on air. “Do we have wine? This calls for wine.”
“That’s on me. I wanted to keep it a secret.”
My heart pangs at the lie and the confidence with which he spits it out. How is it so easy for him?
“A secret?” she repeats, searching for the wine wedon’thave because I drank the whole bottle by myself the other night when I was feeling particularly down. “Why?”
He shrugs and hits me with a smile that is anything but friendly. It’s shocking, really, considering I’m not the one who needs a marriage. “She’s dated most of my teammates. We figured it would be better to keep it quiet for a while.”
And by dated, he means I’ve fucked them.