Page 9 of Seasons of Love
"I'm torn between having breakfast for dinner or a burger that'll send me to my grave too early. I could do both. I always wondered what my mother would wear to my funeral," I said.
After wrapping up the fair, Wren had cornered me inside Bookmarked and more or less given me no choice but to follow him to Benny's Diner. His excuse? We needed to save a table for everyone because it was Saturday and the diner always got busy.
I looked around. He was half right, which also meant he was half wrong. Most people picked one of the booths by the window, so the bigger tables in the middle of the diner were empty, apart from the one we'd claimed.
"Have one today and the other tomorrow. After all, you're staying in town," he said.
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. He was trying so hard to raise the subject without raising it.
"Yeah, I could do that."
"So what are you working on? You said it's a new book."
"Yup."
He let out a frustrated sigh. "You're really not going to tell me what's going on?"
Wren's big heart was what drew me to him when we kept bumping into each other on our daily runs on the beach in San Diego. Even before we'd officially met, he'd already done enough little things that showed me how good he was.
His car was bigger than mine, so when he would get to the beach parking lot before me, he'd pick one spot away from the corner, which made the free space harder to see unless you knew it was already there. If he saw me running without any water, he'd leave a new bottle by the front wheel of my car.
Somehow I'd never felt sexual attraction toward him, and not just because all the time we’d known each other I’d been in a relationship. Wren was gorgeous, but to me he was like the big brother I'd never had. So I'd declared him my friend and introduced myself to him.
"Fine." I gave in. "I don't want to worry you, and I know Tom will cut off my balls if he thinks you're upset because of me."
"You're not wrong there. You really don't want me to be upset." He pursed his lips, which was a ridiculous expression for someone his size, although I'm sure that worked on Tom all the time.
"Richard and I broke up—"
"Thank fuck."
I stared at him.
"Sorry, was that too soon? Oh my god, are you hurting? I mean, he was a douchey dickwaffle, but I know you had feelings for him." He ran his hand through his short hair. "Fuck. I'm sorry, Aid, I am…shit."
"That was a little too quick, I'll admit, but you're not wrong. He is all those things, it just took me a long time to realize it."
"What happened?"
"He proposed."
Wren opened his mouth but was interrupted by the larger-than-life owner and namesake of the diner, Benny.
"Well, look who we have here. If I'd known we were having a celebrity in the house, I would have made a cake."
I laughed. "Word on the street is that you're not allowed in the kitchen."
"Yeah, yeah, the fire department has no sense of humor. Anyway, what can I get you? I'm assuming you're waiting for the gang, so let's start with drinks."
We went for a beer each and Wren asked for a bowl of nachos to snack on until everyone else arrived. I wasn't sure who everyone else was, but I suspected that Ben and Tristan would come and so would Indy and his husband, Tate. And Tom, of course. That he wasn't here already, grilling me, told me exactly how worried Wren really was.
Wren turned to me as soon as Benny left. "What do you mean, he proposed? And don't get me wrong; I think it's good you're not with him, but how do you go from a proposal to a breakup?"
"Easy, he didn't propose to me."
If I had a camera on hand I'd have taken a photo of Wren's face, but my phone was in my pocket, and as soon as I laughed, he changed his confused expression to a scowl.
"He proposed to my mother, assuming I'd say yes. Her monthly calls became weekly and then daily. She was cagey whenever I asked her about it. At some point I wondered if she had a terminal illness. Then one day she let it slip that she'd booked the Plaza in New York."
