Page 124 of Proposal Play

Josie shakes her head, mock disbelief written all over her face. “I know you, Maeve. That proves everything.”

“And the fact that you were getting special tips for a certain dance in pole class tonight?” Everly teases, her eyes sparkling. “Kind of hard to deny it’s been going on for a while when you’re asking for moves like the backslide. You weren’t exactly subtle. And I don’t think you’d dance for a guy you’ve only boned for one night.”

Damn. Sherlock has nothing on my friend.

“I’m triggered,” I joke, but they’re right. I didn’t tell them the details. I kept everything close. But where to start? Do I take them back to Vegas? Do I tell them about that night when we saidI do—about how I was so hot for him I could barely control myself? It all feels too personal, too private. It’sours, and I’m not sure I want to share it.

But then again, they’re my best friends. Each of them owns a little piece of my heart. As much as I like to tease, it’s been hard keeping this from them.

“Fine,” I admit with a smile, “it started in Vegas. We kept trying not to give in, kept saying it couldn’t happen again, that it would be a one-time thing, and then…”

Everly and Josie exchange knowing looks, like they’ve been there before, done that.

“And then you couldn’t resist,” Josie says gently, her voice soft with understanding. That’s kind of what happened with her and Wesley.

Fable squeezes my arm. “Friend, I really get it. So…is that what it’s like for you? You kind of can’t get enough of him?”

That’s exactly what it’s like. But if I admit that, am I just like them? Not that that’d be a bad thing—Everly, Josie, and Fable are all in happy, stable, committed relationships. But I’m in a fake one with an expiration date. As much as I adore Asher, I can’t pretend I’m where they are. It’s different. Messier.

Plus, I don’t want to fall back into my old patterns, clinging to things that aren’t meant to last. Lord knows I hold on too hard, like I do to that book of my mom’s I brought to Asher’s home. The idea makes me feel exposed, vulnerable, more than I want to be, more than I’m naturally prone to be.

“It’s just an arrangement,” I say, trying to mask the uncertainty creeping into my voice. “Friends with benefits, but we’re married…technically.”

Josie snorts. “You’re living with him, sleeping with him, hanging out with him…How are you not going to fall in real love with your fake husband?”

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I don’t have an answer to that because it’s terrifyingly possible. But it can’t happen. It can’t because my fake husband is my real best friend. And if I hold on too tight as his wife, I might lose him as my friend. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.

“Because I’m too much of a mess!” I blurt out, half joking but half serious. “I have so much going on—there’s no room for new emotions. Besides, I don’t even know how to act with him, much less feel with him.”

Everly gives me a sympathetic look. “You’re not a mess.”

I side-eye her. “But I am. I promise you, I am.”

Josie shakes her head. “We all think we’re a mess. We’re just working through things, trying to be the best versions of ourselves. That’s what you’re doing too. Maybe there is room for new emotions.”

Leighton leans in, her gaze soft but intent. “But it sounds like that’s what you’re already feeling with him, isn’t it?”

I pause, her words sinking in. Sure, maybe there arenew emotions slipping in, but they can’t be love. Not yet. How could I handle that on top of everything else? My life is already chaotic—between the Sea Dogs mural commission, and the new projects my agent mentioned (including a plant-based café that begged me to come in this week and draw a painting of a tree with hummingbirds on the wall and I could not resist, because…hello, dream job!), and me trying to finally, after years of trying, carve out a meaningful career, and now Asher…it’s too much.

Especially when I think of my mother and her final wishes for me.Follow your dreams. The last piece of advice she ever gave me. What if I get distracted from my dreams? What if I end up like Dad, losing sight of everything else because I got too caught up in a romance?

I can’t let that happen. Not now, not when everything is finally falling into place.

“Feelings,” I say, sidestepping the topic. “I’m feeling too many of those damn things. That’s sometimes the problem.”

The bartender arrives with our drinks.

I lift my mojito, trying to quell the rising panic in my chest with a toast to, well, to this thing I deeply need—friendship. “To The Padlockers. And your uncanny ability to get anything out of me.”

Josie clinks first, peering at me through those glasses. “I’m surprised, Maeve. You’re usually an open book. It took you long enough.”

Everly lifts her glass. “For the record, I confessed early about Max.”

“And I told you all practically the morning after things happened with Wesley,” Josie adds, and out of the corner of my eye I catch Leighton fiddling with her napkin, thenher earrings. The flower ones specifically. Hmm. That’s some nervous energy right there.

I clear my throat. “Does anyone else have anything she needs to get off her, ahem,bosom?”

The table’s quiet for a long beat, and slowly, we all turn to Leighton. “What?” she asks, with wide blue eyes.

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