Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Some of you already know that this woman,” he said, “wrote most of my songs on Believe the Fire. But what you might not know is . . . she’s the love of my life.”
The jolt that went through Erika was much bigger this time when he abruptly bent down on one knee and pulled the black bag from his pocket. Her expression froze with disbelief, and she didn’t even blink as he produced the sparkling ring. Gasps swept through the crowd.
“Erika,” his voice trembled with emotion as he peered up at her, “will you marry me?”
The room went silent, and everyone waited with breath held in their lungs, their gazes glued on her.
She wasn’t near the microphone, so we couldn’t hear the word she uttered, but her head bobbed in a nod, and my friend leapt to his feet so quickly, the guitar slung over his shoulder clanged against his back. She was pulled into his arms and their mouths smashed together in a kiss that was full of urgency and love.
They parted only long enough for a laugh and for him to slip the ring on her finger, and when they kissed again, the audience erupted in cheers. A pair of champagne flutes were lifted onto the stage and passed to the newly engaged couple. He carried his in one hand, and held onto Erika with his other, and made his way back to the microphone stand.
“Thank you so much for being here tonight,” he said, “and celebrating the release of Believe the Fire with me. I hope y’all have an amazing night.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “This has been the greatest day of my life.”
The crowd roared their approval, and it was so loud and positive, it surged through me like energy, making an unstoppable grin fly across my lips. It also drove my gaze across the way to Colin, because I needed to know if he felt the same happiness I did for our friend.
My warm smile was reflected perfectly on his face. He held my gaze for a long moment as we shared the excitement for Troy. It gave me hope. This obstacle with him seemed small and stupid in comparison.
Except his expression abruptly soured.
It was clear he’d momentarily forgotten about Sydney and me, but when reality came storming back, he ripped his disgusted gaze away.
It announced we had a very long way to go.
Well, shit.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sydney
I stayed up late, waiting for Preston to text me about how the event had gone. Some of the pictures were already online, including the picture of Troy Osbourne down on one knee. I rolled over onto my stomach on my bed, watching the TikTok someone had posted of the proposal.
Most of the comments were people wishing them congratulations, but occasionally someone would wail about how they’d missed their chance with him since now he was off the market. I smirked to myself, wondering if any of the comments were from the girls I’d been friends with in high school.
God, they’d had it so bad for him.
And then my smile widened because the guy I’d been in love with back then? He was my boyfriend now.
I’d done my best not to text him tonight. I knew he was busy and stressed, so I didn’t want to bother him, but I’d cracked during my break. One naughty text won’t hurt. I wasn’t surprised I didn’t get any response other than he marked my comment as ‘loved.’
But it was nearing two in the morning, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. We had a new server at the restaurant, and she hadn’t figured out the point-of-sale system yet, so most of her tickets came out wrong. It caused cascading issues, and it had taken everyone on the line to stop Kevin, our head chef, from murdering the poor woman.
Preston: Colin knows.
I bolted upright and pulled the screen closer to my face to make sure I hadn’t read it wrong.
Sydney: How?
There was no way Preston had told him. Not before the event tonight, and not without me. Had it been Troy? That seemed unlikely. He’d promised Preston he wouldn’t.
Preston: He took my phone and saw your text.
“Oh, shit,” I said into the quiet of my bedroom. I felt fucking awful. He shouldn’t have found out like that, and it probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t sent it.
Sydney: Oh, no. I’m so sorry. How’d he take it?
Preston: Not great. We couldn’t talk about it, so I’m picking you up tomorrow morning and we’ll go to his place.
I let out a slow breath. Well, at least there was a plan.
Sydney: What time?
Preston: He said he’d text me when he’s up.
Sydney: Okay. How about you? How was the event?
Preston: It went great. Really tired, though.
I could only imagine.
Sydney: Get some sleep and I’ll talk to you in the morning.