Page 105 of Seasons of Love
Levi gasps and brings his hand up to his mouth. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I guess I am,” Arlo says.
Penny rolls her eyes as she sets the tray with the new round.
“Are they proposing to each other again?”
“Yup,” Fletcher says.
Harrison adds, “At least they’re not proposing to anyone else this time.”
“This is true.” Penny puts a cocktail in front of me and gives me a sympathetic look.
When did we switch to cocktails?
“Penny, bring me some water, please. Someone needs to sober up enough to stop them from heading over to the town hall to get married in the nude,” I say. “They’ve all mentioned it before, and at this rate, I’m not even sure they’re sober enough to marry the right person.”
She laughs. “Meh, worse things happen at sea. Let your hair down, honey.”
“Yeah, Ellis, let your hair down,” Fletcher says, imitating Penny’s voice.
I take a sip from the cocktail Penny just brought.
Let my hair down. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing tonight?
“How about Milo? I bet he’d help you let your hair down,” Fletcher says, leaning over Harrison to get closer to me. “He’d mess it all up and then mess it all up again.”
“That makes no sense.”
He stares at me, but whatever he’s looking for seems lost, so he leans against Harrison, who puts one of his muscly arms around him and kisses his hair.
“Yeah, what happened between you and Milo?”
Levi and Arlo look at each other and then at me. “Something happened between you and Milo?” Levi asks.
Arlo adds, “I knew I thought I saw you two together at the fair after Milo’s neighbor left.”
I feel my skin warm up.
Fuck. The wine, those Spiky Roses, and whatever else I’ve had are going to my head.
Correction: have gone to my head.
“No. I don’t know what they’re even talking about,” I say.
“Oh come on, Ellis,” Fletcher says, wiggling his eyebrows, “You can tell us. You like Milo, don’t you? Who wouldn’t? He’s so adorable and smiley and cute.”
“No point denying it. We all saw it,” Harrison adds.
Huh? Saw it?
“Yeah. Why are they wasting their time?” Fletcher asks the group, totally ignoring my presence or state of confusion.
“I’m sorry. What are you talking about?” I ask.
Fletcher gesticulates like it’s supposed to mean something. “You know, at the summer festival. That thing between you two when he came to ask you about something, and he was all shy, and you went all red.”
I stare at him.
