Jasmine Guillory - The Proposal

“Hey, do you want some ice cream? I went a little wild at the grocery store tonight. I have three flavors.”

Wine, risotto, and three kinds of ice cream. It’s like the man knew she was coming over.

“Bring them all out.”

He stood and picked up her dishes.

“Will do. I’m sorry if this was too heavy. We can talk about something else.”

She shook her head.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to talk about it. It’s not too heavy.”

He came back a few minutes later and set a bowl with three scoops of ice cream in it in front of her.

“What do we have here?” she asked.

“Dark chocolate brownie, vanilla, rum raisin,” he said.

She took the spoon he handed her.

“I like all of those things.” They sat together, eating ice cream and not talking for the next few minutes.

“Does Angela remember that? About your dad?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

“I have no idea. Angie and I don’t really talk about my dad. Sometimes she brings him up, but it’s too . . . I don’t really want to talk to her about him. Partly it’s because she’s always bugging me to go to the doctor, probably because she’s scared something will happen to me, too, but I’m too busy to deal with all of that right now. But also, it makes me too sad, I guess, which is stupid. It’ll be five years next Friday. I shouldn’t be sad about this anymore, but I guess I am.”

There were so many things that she wanted to say to him, but who the hell was she to tell him how to deal with his grief over his dad’s death? She’d never experienced that before. But one thing she knew for sure.

“It’s not stupid,” she said. “He was your dad. Of course you’re still sad.”

He wrapped his arms around her.

“Yeah. He was my dad,” he said. “And he was a pretty great dad.”

She took a deep breath.

“I bet Angela is still sad, too. It might make you feel better to talk to her about it. She’s the only one who knows how it feels to have lost your dad.”

He nodded slowly.

“That’s true. She is.”

She rubbed her hand against his stubbly cheek. Would he get mad at her for this?

“I know you’re busy and I’m sure you’re fine, but maybe think about going to the doctor? Just to make Angela feel better?”

He stiffened up.

“I’ll think about it.”

She maybe shouldn’t have said anything.

“I’m sorry, it’s probably not my business.”

He shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. One of the things I like about you is that you always say what you mean.”

Huh. That was a thing that most people didn’t like about her. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. He turned and kissed her on the lips.

“Thanks for listening. I’m sorry if I—”

She held her finger up to his lips to stop him.

“No apologies. We all need a shoulder to lean on sometimes. I wouldn’t have offered mine if I didn’t want to.”

• • •

Carlos knew Nik well enough at this point to know that she didn’t do anything she didn’t want to. But he was used to being the one offering his shoulder for people to lean on. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it being the other way around.

He couldn’t believe he’d talked to her about his dad. He didn’t talk to anyone about his dad. It had been kind of nice, actually, especially since Nik hadn’t pounced on the topic and asked him a million questions. She’d just mostly listened.

“Oh, hey, Angie is at Jessie’s house tonight for dinner. I should check to see if there have been any updates.”

She took a spoonful of rum raisin ice cream.

“No problem. How’s Jessie doing?”

“Bored, but okay. We just need to keep her there.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see four texts from Angie. His heart rate sped up, but when he clicked on them, they were four different selfies of her and Jessie together. At least, he thought the fourth one was of the two of them.

“What the hell is this picture?” He showed Nik the last one, with two faces covered in some white material with holes cut out for eyes and lips.

She shook her head at him, a disappointed look on her face.

“For someone with a sister and a cousin who’s like a sister, you should know what a sheet mask is. The best kind of girlfriend activity. You pop them on, relax for ten to twenty minutes, usually take a few selfies, and take them off. You should try them; I bet it would help after a long day at work.”

He laughed and put his arm around her.

“That’s what a big-screen TV and basketball were invented for.”

She handed him the remote from the coffee table and leaned her head on his chest.

“Speaking of, I’m impressed at your restraint. I know the playoffs are on.”

So he turned on the game, and they spent the next hour curled up on the couch watching the second half of a pretty exciting game between two teams he couldn’t care less about. His ideal post-work wind down kind of game—he got all the fun of the lead changes and the great shots, but none of the up and down emotions of a true fan of either of those teams.

“Ahhh, that was excellent,” he said when the buzzer blew. Nik didn’t respond. He pushed her hair back from her face. She was fast asleep, her head still on his chest. He bent down and kissed her forehead.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Time for bed.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked confused for a few seconds before she realized where she was. She sat up straight.

“I fell asleep, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

He stood up and held out a hand to her.

“You missed an amazing game. I bet that breaks your heart. Let’s go to bed.”

He led her into his bedroom and she looked around.

“This is nice,” she said. “Very peaceful.”

He was just glad his clothes were no longer all over the floor and were in the hamper in the closet.

“Thanks. It is peaceful, but maybe too peaceful? I had no time to paint before I moved in here, and I keep thinking of painting this room, because it feels kind of depressing with all of the gray. Maybe some weekend I’ll try to tackle it, once I figure out what I want instead.”

She put her arms around him.

“As long as it isn’t Dodger blue, any color works for me.”

He leaned down to kiss her.

“I’ll keep that in mind, though you know, I am a Dodger fan.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his stubbly cheek.

“I know, don’t remind me. I keep trying to forget that,” she said as she unbuckled his belt.

“And here I was, about to say that if you were too tired for sex tonight, it was okay.” He unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them to the floor. She kicked them to the side.

“Why did you think I took a little nap? I had to rest up.”

She wrapped one leg around his waist, and he put his hands under her butt and lifted her. She laughed and wrapped her other leg around him.

“Well then, we need to make good use of that nap of yours, don’t we?” He dropped her down on his bed. He liked the way she looked there, unsmiling, with her eyes roaming over his body. “You look good in my bed. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to get you in it.”

She stretched her arms above her body in a way that accentuated her breasts, almost, but not quite visible in her thin tank top.

“I can’t believe it, either,” she said. “I think it was because you didn’t want to share this incredible bed with me. First your couch, then your bed—you are incredible at selecting furniture. I could stay here forever.”

He pulled his clothes off before crawling above her onto the bed.

“Well then, you’re in luck, because I’m going to keep you here for a damn long time. We have . . .” He glanced at the clock as he pulled her tank top over her head. “Eleven hours until I have to get up in the morning. Eleven and a half, if I push it. You’re going to be very familiar with this bed.”