When he’d thought I was asleep.
When he’d whispered how sorry he was.
When he’d whispered how much he cared.
When he’d whispered how crazy he was about me.
I dropped down to my bed. Sometimes, it felt like it was all too much. Like my life had been twisted and turned upside down in the space of a week.
How long had he been hiding those feelings?
As long as I’d been hiding my own attraction to him?
Was that possible? Had we really lived opposite each other for this long without either of us ever coming clean?
Was Vincent’s party, the night we slept together, the night he wanted things to change?
Who was I kidding? Of course it was. That was obvious. He’d even had a conversation with the old man about asking me out, and I’d brushed it off like it was nothing.
Why wouldn’t I? I’d seen Kai flirt with tons of women—after all, our friends were in similar circles—and I had no reason to believe his interest in me was anything more than superficial.
Until now.
Until last night when he’d whispered into my hair right before he’d kissed the top of my head.
Three times.
You didn’t kiss someone’s head three times unless you really cared about them.
But for now, I had to figure out what to wear to a mini golf date.
Oh, fuck me. This was so stupid. It didn’t matter what I wore. We’d cooked breakfast together while I was wearing an old hockey t-shirt of his, for goodness sake, and that had only happened a few hours ago.
That t-shirt was now mine.
At least it was in my laundry basket, so that meant it was mine.
I wasn’t going to give it back willingly. It was soft and large enough that it would cover my stomach at the grocery store. A fact that was surprisingly important—I didn’t want all the pensioners in town cooing over me.
If they couldn’t see my growing stomach, they couldn’t coo.
Not that it was growing right now. I liked to kid myself it was, but it was really just bloating.
That was what I got for eating seven slices of bacon at breakfast.
I didn’t see anything wrong with that, for what it was worth.
Sighing, I moved to my dresser and pulled out some skinny jeans. I probably wasn’t going to fit into these for much longer so I was going to make the most of it while I still could.
I combined them with a loose, flowy shirt and some white ballet flats, then brushed my hair so it resembled something a little less than a rat’s nest.
But only a little, so I pulled it up into a ponytail before twisting it into a loose bun.
There.
That was better.
I hesitated over makeup before applying a little mascara. It had the desired effect, and I nodded at my reflection.
At least my complexion no longer resembled that of a ghost.
Three knocks sounded at my door before it opened, and I walked out to see Kai letting himself in.
“Come on in,” I teased, brushing a few wayward baby hairs from my eyes.
He looked up with a grin. “Thanks. I thought I would. Are you ready?”
“Do I look ready?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a fashion expert.” He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his own jeans. “So are you?”
“Ready to get stopped by every single person in town to be asked endless questions like, “When’s the baby due?” or, “I didn’t know you were dating!” or, “Where’s your wedding ring, Ivy?”” I wrinkled my nose. “Sure. Can’t wait.”
“Well, I can’t help you with the first two, but I have a solution for the last one.”
“If you propose to me, I’m going to whack you with a cucumber.”
“A cucumber?”
I pulled one out of the fridge. “Yes, a cucumber.”
He blinked at me for a moment before he shook his head. “You’re so weird.”
“Thank you.” Grinning, I put it back in the fridge and closed the door. “Well? What’s your solution, Sherlock?”
“Sherlock investigates things.”
“Well, my lack of a fake wedding ring warrants investigation, so I’ll ask you again: What’s your solution, Sherlock?”
“So, so fucking weird,” Kai muttered. “This is my solution.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small box that looked scarily like a ring box.”
I took a step back. “If you bought that—”
“I didn’t,” he said quickly. “I promise.”
I held my hand to my chest and blew out a breath. “This is pretty heavy for a first date, Connors.”
His laugh filled the room—and sent goosebumps dancing over my skin. “Well, we already skipped a few steps.” He looked pointedly at my lower stomach. “One more won’t hurt.”
I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth. “All right, hit me. Show me what you did.”
“Anna helped.” He walked over to me and dropped to one knee. “Will you be my fake wife, Ivy?”
I glanced down at the box. “Is that a gummy ring?”
Kai laughed and reached into his back pocket. “It is, but this isn’t.” He produced another ring that was gorgeous—white gold with one simple stone set in the middle.
It was small, classy, and completely beautiful.
“Where did you get that?”
“Family ring. It probably won’t fit perfectly, but you know.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You can borrow it for this…experiment.”
“Experiment.”
“Experiment,” he confirmed.
I laughed. “Okay, yes, I’ll be your fake wife.”
“Phew.” He stood up and handed me the ring. “Here you go.”
“Here you go?” I took the ring from him. “Wow. My first proposal is fake, and you don’t even put the ring on me.”
With a huff, he wrestled the ring from my fingers and took my left hand. I laughed when he selected my ring finger and slipped the ring onto it.
We both froze.
It fit perfectly.
Swallowing, I jerked my hand back. “Well, at least it solves that question.”
I wasn’t going to think about the fact that ring sat on my finger like it was made for it.
Co. In. Ci. Dence.
That was my story. And I was going to stick to it like glue.
“Shall we go?” Kai asked, motioning toward the door.
I nodded and grabbed my purse. “You should know that I am awful at mini golf.”
“You can’t be that bad.”
“I almost hit myself in the head with the club once.”
“All right, you can be that bad.”
I swatted him and followed him out. I stopped to lock the door before we turned to the stairs. “I don’t have great aim. I’m a bit like the giants in Harry Potter where they swing their clubs around aimlessly hoping to hit someone with it.”
“Ah, a bit like teenage boys and their penises.”
“I sure hope teenage boys aren’t waving their penises around in the hopes it’ll hit someone.”
“You’d be surprised.”
I highly doubted it. And even if I could, I’d had enough surprises for one week, thank you very much.