Page 72 of The One I Need
“I am,” I say. “But warning, it’s a lot.”
I start at the beginning. I tell them how I met Izzy at Jake and Whitley’s wedding. I tell them I spent the night with her, and that’s why they couldn’t find me that morning. I tell them every part of my elaborate plan to get her to go out with me, and how I was immediately friend zoned.
“Okay, before you go any farther,” Amelia interrupts. “Why didn’t you tell us about her before Vegas? It seems like a harmless relationship that doesn’t require secrecy.”
“I honestly don’t know,” I say. “I think part of me didn’t know if she’d be around, and I didn’t want to get shit from anyone about another failed attempt at a relationship. And part of me liked having a person outside of you guys that was just for me.”
“I take offense,” Simon says. “But I get it. I wouldn’t introduce anyone to me either.”
“Continuing on,” I say. “We started spending a lot of time together, so when she had an extra ticket for Vegas, she suggested I go. I figured why not? What could be the harm?”
Wes signals to my hand. “I think the harm is around your finger.”
“I don’t know how it happened,” I say. “It was our last day, and Izzy had been working nonstop since we got there. So I surprised her with a margarita that might have had an extra shot in it.”
“Tequila once again proving that it’s the devil,” Betsy says.
Amelia nods in agreement. “That’s true. It’s how I ended up pregnant at eighteen.”
“Anyway,” I say, wanting to get this back on track. “I’ll admit, the weekend had been a little…tense.”
“Tense how?” Betsy asks. “Tense as in you two were about to fight or tense as you were about to fuck?”
Simon raises his hand like he’s in my classroom. “I’m going to guess the fuck one.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “Yes. But that’s not the point. Or maybe it is. I’m not sure. Either way, the weekend had been a lot, and I thought Izzy could use a night to unwind and have a little fun. One margarita turned into two, two turned into five, and well, things got out of hand.”
I stop to pull out my phone, which makes everyone start asking me at the same time what the hell I’m doing.
“It’s going to be easier to show.” I click a few buttons on my phone to put my screen on my television.
“Oh my God! There are photos?”
I nod to Betsy, who looks so excited she might burst. “There are.”
Everyone simultaneously moves to the front of their seats, like getting three inches closer is going to somehow make them see better.
“This is the first picture of the night.” I bring up a selfie of Izzy and me at a slot machine. I can’t help but grin just looking at her smile. She doesn’t do it often, especially that big.
“Holy shit, dude. She’s fucking hot.”
I shoot a glare at Simon. “You fucking watch it.”
He holds his hands in the air in surrender. “Just making an observation.”
I continue scrolling, which is mostly pictures of us at the casino, us taking many shots, and us in front of the fountains at the Bellagio.
“Everyone ready?” I ask, knowing what’s coming next.
After a chorus of agreement I scroll to the video and hit play. I don’t watch it. I’ve seen it plenty of times to know what’s coming. I decide to watch all of my friends’ faces when they realize that I’m not the one who proposed.
And by the way their jaws drop a little more each second, it was the right call.
“Wait…wait, wait, wait,” Shane says. “You mean to tell me that Oliver Price, the man who has proposed more times and places than anyone on this whole green planet Earth,did notpropose to his now wife?”
“Nope,” I say, letting the ‘p’ pop for emphasis. “Turns out the thirty-fifth proposal was me.”
Simon glares at him. “Bullshit. I think that still counts in the bet. Wait, did you say thirty-fifth?”
