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“I think we need to take your foot out of the shoe if we’re going to have any chance of getting the heel loose.”
“Whatever. Take the shoe off.”
“I don’t like your tone.” Now I’m just irritating her for the fun of it.
Wait. Is this fun?
It kind of feels like it is.
“And I don’t like how slow you’re being,” she says. “You’re milking it.”
“Milking it?”
“Yeah. You’re purposely going slow, taking advantage of the situation.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because your head is eye level with my upper thigh, and you’re sick and twisted.”
I raise my chin so I can see her face. “First of all, enjoying a woman’s thigh does not make me sick and twisted. Second of all, you’re the one who was all over me.Triedto kiss me. Maybe you’re the sick and twisted one.”
Her jaw drops. “Trying to kiss a man doesn’t makemesick and twisted.”
“Look!” a teenage girl walking down the sidewalk says. She’s pointing at us, talking to her four friends. “He’s proposing.” She pulls out her phone like she’s going to start recording us.
“He isnotproposing,” the woman in the black dress says back to them.
My brows furrow up at her. “Shh. You don’t know that.”
“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” The girls squeal with delight, directing all their phone cameras at us.
“If I don’t propose now, I’ll ruin these girls' expectations of happily ever after.”
“They’ll be fine.”
I shift my position so I’m really kneeling on one knee. My mind flashes to Kristen and the moment I proposed to her. I never would have imagined that I would be down on one knee again. This is only for fun, but in the back of my heart, there’s an ache, a realization that someday I might have to propose again for real, and I hope when that day comes, I don’t feel this sad, pinching feeling.
I shake my thoughts away and look up at the woman. She’s glaring at me. I decide to fake propose because she doesn’t want me to, and right now, playing this game with her is the most amusing thing I’ve done in alongtime.
“Meg?” I think that’s the name the guy called her. “I don’t have much. Not even a ring to give you, but I’d be the luckiest guy in the world if you were my wife. Will you marry me?”
“Aww,” the girls say in unison behind me.
And that’s when Meg slaps me.
Not hard, but enough to shock me.
“No, I will not marry you. You cheated on me with my best friend,Candi.”
“What a jerk,” the girls mumble, dropping their phones in disgust. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
My hand rubs the side of my face where Meg’s handprint probably lingers. “What was that for? I went from Prince Charming to a jerk.”
Her mouth twitches like she might smile at me. “I told you not to propose. And how do you know my name?”
I like her almost-smile.
“The guy said it back there.”
