Page 46 of Ring Me

“I know.” On tip-toe I kissed him once more—short and sweet. “I'm super weird and you definitely like me.”

Conner inhaled, staring at me like he was fighting his urge to snatch me back into his arms. “I more than like you, Cherry.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “How much more?”

His lips spread apart, but whatever he was going to say, he swallowed it back down. Three seconds passed—I counted each of them, cursed every single one, as I waited for him to tell me what I wanted to hear. What I was terrified to hear.

He looked at the ring on my hand. “Enough to ask you to marry me,” he said earnestly. And then we were back in our fantasy world, leaving me wondering how much of what he said, and what he felt, was real.

We put our clothes back on in silence. “I'll call her in the conference room,” I said, pointing. “Feel free to go get something to eat down the street.”

“You don't want me to wait for you?”

“I don't know how long this is going to take. I'd feel better if I knew you weren't starving.”

“That's fair. We can meet up later, I'll take you to dinner.”

“Thanks. I'll text you when I have news.” Left alone in the conference room, I didn't hesitate to call Aubrey. Her name blinked on my screen—after the third ring, I worried she wouldn't answer me. Then I heard her voice.

“What do you want?” she huffed.

“Aubrey, I'm incredibly sorry! Those invites weren't supposed to be sent yet, and definitely not emailed!”

“Great. Cool. So you were going to wait longer to tell me about your upcoming surprise wedding.”

I cringed. “No, no! I just... ugh. This is complicated.”

“Not as complicated as planning a wedding without your best friend.”

“Aubrey! That's not what I was doing! You know me.”

“I'm not sure I do,” she grumbled. “Who the hell is Conner Whynn? Is that a real name, is he even real?”

“It is. He, and his name, are very very real.” Pacing the room, I tried to choose my words carefully. This was a field full of landmines. “Conner proposed to me and things have been in hyper-drive ever since.”

“Stop talking about how fast it happened!” she yelled, shutting me up. Her voice trembled when she spoke next. “I don't care how fast it happened. I care that you didn't say a word to me about him.”

I listened to her breathing through my phone. Heavy, scratchy, like a bird beating its wings against a window as it tried to escape. “I'm sorry,” I whispered sincerely. “You're right. Speed isn't an excuse for keeping secrets.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice softening. “It's not. Maya, what's really going on here?”

“I want to tell you so badly.”

“Then just do it.”

I bit the corner of my lip until it bled. In seconds I'd crossed one side of the long conference table to the next, walking at a pace that had me sweating. Tell her? Was that an option?

“I can't,” I blurted.

“Are you fucking serious—”

“Not over the phone.” Jogging from the room, I snatched my purse off of my desk and didn't slow down. “Meet me at the Green Olive outside your building. I'll tell you everything.”

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