Page 92 of The Proposal
I groan, rolling off him.
“Our security team can do it,” he says. “Or Ella, maybe, if you’d rather. I’d probably still want to send someone with her, though.”
My head starts to hurt.
This is reality, the thing I’ve been avoiding.The thing I’ve been dreading.
Just how different will my life be now?
I take a deep breath. “I don’t need a ton of stuff. I mean, I can get things as I need them. There’s no sense in moving everything out when I’m just going to be moving everything back.”
He nods, not looking at me.
“And I don’t want security all the time, Renn. Honestly, I don’t. I can’t live like that.”
Slowly, he faces me. “I have to keep you safe. And until I know that you’ll be left alone, I can’t risk someone doing anything to you.”
The tenderness in his eyes slays me. It cuts me right to the core. I wrap my arms around his neck and lay on top of him, burrowing my face between his collar and jaw.
He rubs my back, pressing me against him like he’s afraid I might get up.
“How do I make this easier for you, cutie? What can I do to make you happy?”
I smile softly. “Let’s not go home. Let’s stay in our honeymoon bubble and pretend nothing else matters. I like the beach bum idea.”
“Well, we still have to go home and tell everyone goodbye. I need to cancel my contract with the Royals. Tell my dad to fuck off. You know—the usual.” He wraps both arms around me. “Do you like it here that much? Would you really want to live here, or are you being dramatic?”
I ponder his question, unsure about what I mean.
Do I like it here because he’s here with me? Because there’s no stress between us, only stress against us? Would I want to be here alone? Without him?
“If it were like this? I’d stay here in a heartbeat,” I say, finally. “All I have at home is Brock and Ella, and I’m sure they’d come to visit. I don’t know how I’d make a living or if I could afford it. But if life was like it has been the past couple of days …” I shrug. “It’s been the best days of my life.”
He snuggles me closer.
“But this isn’t real,” I say, for my own benefit as much as his. “It might feel like it …”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
The word drops into the room and then slowly fades away.
We sit together in silence, both lost in our thoughts.
The idea of leaving in a few hours makes me want to cry. As soon as we’re on the jet, the clock will start ticking to the end of our agreement. Although I wanted a contract, so to speak—a time limit on our commitment—now I regret it. I fucked myself.
“Blakely?”
“Hmm?”
“You know … We don’t have to end things right at ninety days, right? If we’re having fun and things are working out, we could … stay married.”
It’s such a confusing predicament.
On the one hand, my hopes rise sky-high at the thought of being with Renn for as long as I’d like. But on the other side of that token is reality—the longer I play pretend with Renn, the longer I go without having a real relationship.
This fits his lifestyle, no doubt. It’s fun. It’s sex. He’s not beholden to me forever.
