Page 159 of Studs Up
When he flicked on the lights, I flinched from the sudden brightness.
It was much the same as it was. Some personal effects were no longer there. Knickknacks and some art were gone, but the rest, couches, chairs, and stacks of wood, were precisely as we’d left them.
“Go take a shower. You smell like a cheap bar.”
I slid my eyes to him, and he grinned.
“Fuck you,” I said.
“I’ll start a fire,” he gave me a pat on the ass and turned me to the bedroom. The sheets were gone, and I wasn’t entirely sure what Nolan’s plan was, but the appeal of a shower was too tempting to worry about the bed. I was pretty sure I’d pass out on the mattress, sheets or no.
It took a long time for the water to heat up, but the second I stood under the steaming spray, I felt a thousand times better. I washed away years of stress and anxiety.
My phone was never going to receive texts from Marcel again. I had Nolan and a future. While my career hung in the balance, it didn’t terrify me.
I still wanted to play, and I wanted to win the Cup. But if I got cut and still had Nolan, things would be okay.
I returned to the bedroom and found the bed made with a fluffy down comforter and a roaring fire, filling the room with heat.
My suitcase was open on the bed, and resting on the nightstand was the folded list. I pulled on sweats and a sweater, then sat on the bed with the list.
That piece of paper was the only thing that kept me together the last few days.
“You didn’t read it, did you?”
Nolan leaned on the frame of the doorway with his hands in his pockets. I shook my head. I couldn’t bear it.
“Figured,” he said. “If you had, you would have known I wasn’t giving up.”
I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. He jerked his chin, suggesting I open it.
So I did. From top to bottom, right down to step five. Except there hadn’t been a step five since I last saw him.
“Nolan,” I breathed. I read the words over and over again. There were only two, but the weight of them was unreal.
“What does it say?” He asked.
“Marry him,” I looked up. Nolan tilted his head back with a dramatic sigh.
“Well, if I must,” he tossed me a little box from his pocket. I caught it. I knew what it was the second I felt the velvet in my fingers.
“Open it,” he whispered as he walked toward me and crouched before my knees. His hands rested on my thighs as I opened the box. Two identical platinum rings rested side by side in the satin. They were plain, subtle, and beautiful.
He picked them up and held them in the palm of his hand.
“I don’t care how we get there, and I don’t care how long it takes, but this is the destination. This is where I want to go.”
More tears. They flowed, ignoring any attempt I made to stop them.
I picked one up and inscribed on the inside wasStep Four. Nolan loves you.
Nolan took it from my grasp and slid it onto my finger.
“I haven’t said yes yet,” I said through the sobs heaving in my chest.
“Well,” he feigned irritation. “I’m waiting.”
I laughed, and it felt so fucking good.
