“Carter!” I say, frowning at him as he watches me expectantly. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

He grins at me, and it’s that stupid grin that always used to get women to fall at his feet.

Well, not this time, buddy. Those grins don’t work on your cousin.

“One minute you’re telling me you’re going to propose, and the next minute you’re already engaged,” I say, settling back into the couch. “What’s that about?”

Carter blinks at me, looking confused. “I sent you a picture.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, and it was lovely. But I need more than a picture.”

“Yeah, Carter,” Sam chimes in. “She wants thestory.”

Still looking confused, Carter frowns at Sam and then at me. “What story? There’s no story. I asked and she said yes.”

“So hopeless,” Sam says under her breath, barely loud enough for me to pick up on. Then, shaking her head, she sits up straighter. “All right. Here’s the story. So we went to dinner with Frank and had a lovely time.”

“Excellent!” I say, settling in to hear the good stuff. I love engagement stories.

“And then just as they were bringing out the dessert, Carter pulled out the ring and dropped to one knee—like a completegentleman.” Sam turns to Carter and pinches his cheek, and he bats her hand away.

“Shut up,” he mutters, but she just laughs.

Sam looks back at me and goes on. “And he started to give this really lovely speech, right, about how much he loves me and all that, only out of nowhere the waiter tripped over his foot, because he was still down on one knee—”

“Do we really need to go into all this detail?” Carter cuts her off, and though it’s hard to tell over video chat, I think he’s looking distinctly embarrassed now.

“Shh, yes we do,” Sam says to him. “This is for posterity’s sake.”

“Yeah, Carter. This is forposterity,” I echo, grinning.

Carter shakes his head, muttering incoherently under his breath.

“So the waiter tripped over Carter’s foot and fell face-first to the floor, and our tray of desserts went flying. I mean, they really got some air. Frank’s tiramisu hit some old lady in the back of the head. It was a mess, so we…uh…” Sam bites her lip, looking sheepish. “We were politely asked to see ourselves out.” Then, her whole countenance brightening, she says, “I said yes, though!”

And with this she holds her hand up so I can see the ring. It’s gorgeous, a simple diamond solitaire, nothing pretentious or overdone. It’s perfect for Sam.

Weoohandahhfor a moment, which is easy to do. Tears well in my eyes as I watch Sam and Carter—their stolen glances, their incandescently happy faces. They’re so happy, and it makes me happy for them. I wipe my eyes, hoping I’m subtle, but—

“Oh, no—don’t you dare,” Sam says severely. “Don’t you dare start crying. ThenI’llstart crying, and it will be a mess.”

I sniffle and laugh. Sam is a sympathetic crier, as well as a sympathetic vomiter—something that did not serve her well when I was pregnant and in the throes of morning sickness. “Sorry,” I say, wiping my eyes again.

“Let’s change the subject before we all start crying, shall we?” Carter says, looking both amused and concerned.

Sam and I laugh before falling silent, and it feels like as good a time as any to fill them on the latest happenings in my life, so I speak.

“I might have met someone,” I say.

The answering silence is disconcerting, as are their dumbstruck faces.

Sam comes around first. “Wait,” she says. “Like, a man?”

I smile nervously, biting my bottom lip as I nod. “Yeah. A man. Actually”—I heave a sigh and settle in to explain—“he’s my internet pen pal I told you about.”

“The sugar daddy?” Carter says incredulously, looking outraged.

Sam rolls her eyes, and so do I. “No,” Sam says. “She specifically told us she was joking about that part.” Then, to me, she says, “Maya, that’s so exciting! How did you end up meeting?”