Page 53 of Guy's Girl
“Well.” She shrugs, feeling her cheeks warm.
“Steaks are done!” Clay calls from over by the grill. Ginny picks up the serving platter and hurries over, grateful for the interruption.
Once the steaks are served, everyone settles into a place at the table and starts passing around the rest of the food. Ginny digs eagerly into the mashed potatoes, whipped with two whole sticks of butter, knowing she can rid herself of them later.
“So,” Clay says, cutting into his steak. “What’s on the schedule for this week?”
“Well.” Tristan stabs an asparagus spear and pops it into his mouth. “Seeing as tomorrow is our first full day in Budapest, I figured I’d start us off easy: a tour of Buda Castle, a walk on the Chain Bridge, lunch on Váci Street, bikes by the Danube, dinner at Mazel Tov, and a ruin pub crawl to end the night.”
“Think we could squeeze in a six-mile hike and helicopter ride, too?” Finch asks.
Tristan considers this. “Well, if we leave for Buda Castle early enough—”
“I’m shitting you, dude.”
Their host looks suitably put out.
“That sounds like a great day,” Adrian says quickly.
“Agreed,” says Clay through a mouthful of potato. “Anything that includes the wordspubandcrawl—count me in.”
“Hold up.” Ginny points at Adrian. “Shouldn’t the guy who grew up here be the one showing us around?”
“Oh.” Adrian shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. I—”
“No, Gin has a point,” says Clay. “Adrian, don’t let the foreigner make all the plans.”
“Hey,” says Tristan. “My family came to this same house when I was fifteen. I know my way around.”
Finch sighs. “Are you really as ignorant as you sound?”
“Honestly, he’s made a good list of tourist spots,” says Adrian.
“But what about thenon-tourist spots?” Ginny asks. “I, for one, would love to see where you grew up.”
“Seconded,” says Clay.
Adrian peeks over at Ginny. As his head turns, his eyes flutter, an action she’s seen dozens of times—the sign he’s considering something very closely. He holds her gaze with those familiar eyes, so brown they’re almost black. The sight makes Ginny’s stomach clench in a way she would rather ignore.
“I think we could make that happen,” he says, not looking away.
Ginny clears her throat. “What about your Hungarian friends? Would they want to meet up with us?”
He smiles. “I’m sure they would.”
At the end of the meal, as conversation winds down and steaks are polished off, Finch sets down his fork and dabs at his mouth with a napkin. “So,” he says. “I have some news.”
Ginny’s neck jolts up.
Holy shit, she thinks.This is it.The moment he tells them. The moment he says he’s breaking up with Hannah. The moment they finally go public with their relationship. Her hands reach under the table and close around her knees, nails digging into the skin.
Finch dips one arm into his pocket and rummages around. When it reemerges, a small velvet box balances on his palm.
Wait.
The box clicks open. Nestled inside a satin cushion is a white gold band with one big, fat rock at its center.
Wait.
