Page 30 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

“Where the fuck is his truck?” He faces me, a mixture of confusion and intoxication swirling in his eyes. And then he busts out a laugh. This joyful, beautiful sound that I’ve missed all night.

It takes a moment for my mind to catch up to his, for clarity to hit. “He’s going to be so pissed,” I laugh out.

“He’s been on edge all night. Jumping at every sound,” Logan chuckles, opening the door. “We have to stay to see his reaction.”

We’re still laughing as we make our way back to the cabin. The second we open the door: eggs. Multiple. Right at Logan’s face.

He freezes beside me, his eyes closed, his nose flaring with every harsh exhale. Our friends stifle their chuckles, butI already sense what’s going to happen before Logan makes his first move. He smiles, wiping the egg off his eyes. “You motherfuckers,” he deadpans, and then he charges forward. All the boys—aka the culprits—run in the same direction, into the living room, shoving each other out of the way, or in Cameron’s case, backward and directly into the path of Logan. Logan takes his chance, jumps on his back, until they’re both on the floor, wrestling.

“Get him good, baby,” I call, moving to the couch for front-row seats.

The boys are yelling now, telling each of them what moves to make, as if any of them have a single clue. Then Cam suddenly gets a burst of strength to push Logan onto his back. Meanwhile, Lucy sidles up to me, grasping a bottle of wine. She parks her tiny ass right on my lap, saying, “This is very erotic.” A sip and a hiccup later, she adds, “I’m getting turned on.”

I giggle, hugging her closer.

“Go, Logan!” Lucy shouts, lifting the bottle like a trophy.

Cam sits up, looks at her. “The fuck?”

Logan takes the opportunity to roll out from beneath him, and I catch a glimpse of something on the floor next to him. My eyes narrow, physically zooming in on it, and when I realize what it is, I let out a gasp. I stand, effectively dropping Lucy to the floor with a thud. I offer a half-hearted apology as I take the few steps toward the object, now sparkling under the ceiling light. Slowly, carefully, I pick up the gold band, the diamond setting brilliant and…huge.

“Shit,” Logan mutters, and I snap my eyes to his. He’s sitting up now, his knees raised, arms resting on them. Head between his shoulders, he shakes it slowly. “Amanda…”

I feel like I should be elated or in a daze of some sort, but I’m more curious than anything. “Did this fall out of your pocket?”I ask, because I highly doubt Cam has a use for it. Lucy’s ring is her mother’s. She’d never replace it.

Logan looks around as he releases a sigh. “Yes, but it’s not for you, baby.”

The room is silent. If the house had a clock, its ticking would be the only sound you could hear.

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. He doesn’t need to be sorry. We’ve spoken about marriage. We agreed to wait until his residency was over, and we were both in a position to plan the rest of our future together. We’re not there yet. But if he has the ring, and it’s not meant for me, then… “Who’s it for then?”

Mikayla steps forward, taking the ring from me. “It’s mine.”

12

Mikayla

“Wait.” Lucy picks herself up off the floor. “How do you know it’s yours?”

I inspect the ring closer, just to be sure. “Because I’ve seen it before.”

“When?” Amanda asks.

“When I’ve proposed before,” Jake answers for me, resting his shoulder against a wall. His eyes are downcast, refusing to look at me.

“And you said no?” Riley asks.

I don’t respond, so again, Jake does it for me. “Twice.”

The girls gasp, but the boys… the boys don’t seem at all surprised by the news.

“It was onlyonce,” I retort, and it’s ridiculous to get into the semantics of things, especially now, but the pressure of everyone’s eyes on me feels like a weight pressing down on my chest.

The girls start with the questions, all of them, all at once, and as if planned, their boys cover their mouths, shrouding the roomin silence again. My shame and insecurities have prevented me from telling anyone about the proposal, but I understand why Jake needed to talk to someone about it. Or multiplesomeonesbased on the guys’ reactions. They know, and they kept it from their girls for what? To protect Jake? To protectme? I turn to Jake and speak to him, and only him. “You asked me if I wanted to when we were in college, and I saidnot yet. That’s not a proposal.”

“Fair,” Jake responds, pushing off the wall to stand taller. “But I waited years to propose, and you said the same thing. I don’t live in your head, Kayla. I don’t know when the right time is, but we’ve been together for ten years now, and we’re exactly where we started.” There’s no bite in his words. No fight. Justfacts.

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