“Oh, cut the girl some slack,” another one of the wives says. It’s the oldest one of us, who’s shut down the women more than once on my behalf. For that reason, Penny is my favorite. “I know you would have waited to have Prince, but things happen. Let them live their lives.”
Malissa grumbles under her breath, focusing back on her son and nobody else.
I give Penny a grateful smile which she returns. “Nick loved those turnovers you sent over. I had to remind him that he had to save at least one for me.”
Blushing, I shift from one foot to the other. “I can make more. I’ve thought about adding something different this time.”
A woman a few feet down says, “You should try them with peaches.”
“Peaches?” Penny remarks, scrunching her face.
“It’s Don’s favorite.”
Baking for Aiden’ team now is no different than it was nearly two years ago in Lindon. I still get requests, and I still do the best I can do to accommodate. They challenge me to change up traditional recipes with my own styles, which helps me in the long run when I decide they’re good enough to post about on my blog.
Once the guys emerge, everyone goes their separate ways. Aiden walks over to me and drops an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him for a tight hug. “Good game,” I tell him.
“You say that every time.”
I peer up at him grinning. “Because I think they’re all good. Say ‘thank you, Ivy.’”
“Thank you, Ivy,” he obeys, rolling his eyes. When he hooks the same arm around my waist and walks me out toward the corridor that leads to where the players park, he asks, “Did anyone ask about us again?”
Apparently the guys are no different with him, saying most players don’t stay with anyone as long as we have without making a commitment by now, but like me, he brushes it off.
“Malissa asked if I was going to pop out one of your babies anytime soon.” He snorts at my choice of words. “Don’t get me wrong, the act itself is definitely fun now that you know what do with your dick, but I’m not ready for—”
“I’ve always known what to do with my dick,” he refutes, eyeing me defensively even though he knows I’m teasing when I shoot him a wink. “And you never seem to mind when you’re screaming my name and cumming on my cock almost every night.”
One of the stadium workers overhears and hides a laugh with a loud cleared throat as we pass him, making me smack Aiden’s chest. “You did that on purpose.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe.”
Once we’re settled in his new Ford truck, with tinted windows to hide us from the cameras that like to harass us on occasion, I see him turning to me as he presses the start button. “We might not be ready to be parents, but we could make other decisions.”
My hand falters on the seatbelt. “Like what?”
“Open the glove box.”
Eyes darting in front of me, I hesitate only a moment before doing as he says, and I see a black box.
“Aiden…” My voice cracks as I brush my fingers over the square box before taking it out.
He puts the truck in drive and pulls out of the parking lot. “I’m not good with pretty words, Ivy. I tried thinking about how to do this in a romantic way, but we’ve never really been like that. This is more us.”
“Are you… Is this what I think it is?” I’m afraid to lift the lid and see what’s inside even though I already know.
We stop at the end of the lot where traffic passes by us. It’s then he looks over, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other reaches over and lifts the lid for me. “Let’s get married.”
Oh my God.
“Be my wife?” he asks, eyes combing over me as I stare at him in shock. Eventually, I manage to glance down at the beautiful gold ring that has a single diamond in the middle. It’s not flashy or too fancy. It’s simple. It’s me.
“Let’s get married,” he says again, this time more casually as the truck moves forward into the road. “And then maybe down the line you can pop out one or two of my kids when things are less crazy.”
“One or two kids?” I squeak.
A shoulder lifts. “Or three.”
“Three!” We’ve never talked about kids, but that hasn’t meant I haven’t thought about it. Before coming back into his life, I never thought I’d ever be a mom. But once we made things official all of a sudden I saw my future—a wedding, a house, and children. I saw it all for the first time.
All with Aiden right beside me.
“Is that a yes?”
“Is the three children negotiable?” I blurt, causing him to chuckle. “I mean, what’d my vagina ever do to you?”
A twinkle forms in those blue eyes as they give me a brief look. “It’s done plenty for me, and hopefully will do plenty more. We can talk about the number of kids we’ll have later. Right now, I need an answer. Out of your head, Underwood. Yes or no?”
I let out a quick breath.
He wants to marry me.
He wants to have kids with me.
The single word response is the easiest one I’ve ever said. “Yes.” I pick the ring out of its carrier and study it closer before slipping it onto my finger and shaking my head in awe of the piece of jewelry that looks like it’s meant to be there. “But we’re not having three kids. Two.”
He pauses for a moment. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
I smile to myself as I touch the ring. “I know I’ve said it before, but I love you. You gave me back my life, Aiden.”
The truck slows in traffic. “You did that yourself, Ivy. Never forget it.”
Our hands find each other, linking between us on the seat. One of his fingers settles on the ring as if he wants to make sure this is real.
Ivy Ann Griffith.
I laugh to myself.
Maybe I always knew it’d end like this.
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Acknowledgments
Writing about self-harm has been something I’ve wanted to do for a long time now but struggled to find the right story to portray it. Dare You to Hate Me actually started as a short story I was supposed to write for an anthology focusing on the topic, but it turned into so much more once I opened up to the characters.
Thank you to my betas for helping me flesh out the hard topic to do it the utmost justice. I always want my stories to be raw and real so readers can resonate and find a piece of themselves in the characters I create.
Thank you to Letitia Hasser from RBA designs for another kick ass cover. I don’t know how you do it since I never give you many ideas, but you always deliver. Always.
Thank you to the readers who have supported me, encouraged me, read me, reviewed me, and continue to be by my side as I write! You all mean the world to me.