Page 122 of Wildcat
“Deal.”
I haven’t been back to Mike’s in a while, but the small dive bar has been transformed tonight. The tables are all covered in white cloths. Flowers and candles are set on each one. The neon signs are off tonight, and someone strung twinkling lights from the ceiling.
“Wow,” Scarlett mutters as she hugs her best friend. “How did you pull this off?”
“Vivian.” She nods toward a woman in all black bossing Mike and another bartender. “And the magazine is paying for a lot of it since I’m using it for the article.”
Her fiancé looks less than thrilled. We offer our congratulations to Sam, which feels a little weird since they aren’t really engaged. Or they are. I don’t understand it.
But my girl is smiling, and she looks fine as hell.
“Leo Lohan,” Mike booms my name when he finally sees me. “I had no idea it was you.”
“I get that a lot.” I squeeze Scarlett’s leg, eliciting a giggle out of her.
“I’d love to have you sign something to hang in the bar,” the likable bar owner says.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring a few things the next time I’m in.”
He starts to question me about our upcoming games, but Vivian interrupts and shoos him back to work.
“Does she know it’shisbar?” I ask Jade. She’s hiding out and chugging champagne like it’s her job.
“Vivian’s amazing, right? I think she’s my hero.” Jade finishes her glass of champagne and then stares at the empty flute, and blows out a breath. “Okay, going back out there.”
“Good luck,” Scarlett calls. She leans into me. “I forgot how much I enjoyed a night out with you. You look sharp, boyfriend. We should do this more often.”
We’ve been laying low in the weeks since we got back together. The media storm has died down, but neither of us wanted to burst our happy little bubble.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love staying in with you, but I don’t want to hide. Maybe we can pencil in a few Daria-approved events.”
“I’ll send you the list, and you can pick whatever you want.” I lean in, kissing her shoulder and whispering, “Are you sure you want to be photographed with the least photogenic guy in history?”
She smiles. “It’ll make it seem like you’re the one dating up instead of the other way around.”
“Oh, I am,” I tell her and slide my hands up her bare legs. No doubt about it.
The following day I slip out of bed, careful not to wake Scarlett as I get ready for my run with Ash.
“Did you do it?” he asks as soon as we start jogging away from our houses.
“No.” I chuckle, my breath appearing in front of me. “Guess where she took me last night?”
“Where?”
“Her best friend’s engagement party.”
Ash throws his head back and laughs loudly into the silent morning. I bought a ring two weeks ago, but every time I make plans to give it to her, something happens, and it doesn’t feel like the right moment.
I’m one hundred percent certain, but I’m not sure Scarlett is. She hasn’t even agreed to move in yet, and I’m about to ask her to do a lot more than that. I think I knew from that one night that she was it for me. I don’t want to rush her. We can be engaged for a long time if she wants. The point is, I’m in this for as long as she’ll have me.
“You need a solid, fool-proof plan.”
“You might be right.” I’d been avoiding planning a night out, unsure how Scarlett would feel about making any more of our moments public, but winging it isn’t working, and it sounds like she’s ready to be seen with me again.
Friday, I swing by her house to pick her up for our night out. Coach answers the door, holding a golf club in one hand. “Come in. She’s still getting ready.”
