Right (Wrong 2) - Page 94


He pulls out a chair and seats me at the table, then sits across from me, face serious.

“Everly, I have something important to talk to you about.”

Yes. Yes, you do. Can I squeeze another yes in here? All the yeses.

“What’s that?” I ask calmly. I’ve been wearing Show Me the Ring on my nails for a month.

“Do you think you could delete the Sawyer Camden is a dick board from your Pinterest?”

My eyes widen. I so forgot all about that. I make a mental note to never again forget what a little stalker he is.

“Consider it done.” I smile. It’s loud downtown. Why have I never noticed that before? I hope I don’t miss anything important. I focus on Sawyer but he’s not saying anything. Just staring at me expectantly.

“Um, now? Did you want me to delete it right this second?”

He raises his eyebrows and nods.

I fumble for the clutch in my lap, my hands a little shaky. I get it out and open up the Pinterest app, pulling up my boards. But it’s gone. Replaced by a board named Marry Me, Everly. There are hundreds of pictures of the words ‘Marry Me.’ On coffee cups and neon signs. Spelled out in the sand and written on chalkboards. I’ll look at them all later, but right now, Sawyer is on one knee in front of me, a ring in his hand.

“Everly Jensen, will you marry me?”

I must say yes because a moment later the ring is on my finger. It’s perfect. A cushion-cut stone surrounded by a perimeter of smaller diamonds that continue around the band.

Of all the rings I’ve looked at on Pinterest it’s the one I loved the most.

Sawyer is filling my glass with champagne when I notice a bottle of nail polish on the table. I recall that it was in his hand, the ring resting around the cap.

“You bought me nail polish?” I question, picking it up. It’s orange, my favorite color. I immediately flip it over to see what it’s called.

Everly Ever After is printed on the label.

I’ve never even told him about the nail polishes.

I’ve said it before—life really has a way of working out for me. My advice? A positive attitude and the ability to be flexible is essential. And a dash of delusion never hurts.

Epilogue

I fell in love with her the moment she walked into the room at my parents’ house that Sunday afternoon in November. Love at first sight was a ridiculous notion until Everly.

That first sixty seconds was a punch to the gut. I thought I’d found her and lost her all in the blink of an eye.

As she trailed into the room behind Eric, my brain couldn’t process fast enough. Captivated. Before she even said a word. But who was she? Eric had gotten married recently. Was that his new wife? I’d sent a silent fuck you to the universe.

But wait.

Eric wasn’t even looking at her. No way that woman was your wife and you weren’t looking at her every time she was in the room. And there was something similar about them—the shape of their eyes, the color of their hair. Please God, let that be his sister.

I glanced at Finn, gauging his reaction to our guests, and caught the tiniest flicker of exasperation cross his face. It was brief. So brief I’d think I’d imagined it if not for knowing Finn his entire life. Another piece to this sixty-second puzzle.

Eric called out a greeting and I rose, clapping him on the back and congratulating him on his wedding, but he didn’t turn to the woman trailing him at the mention of his marriage. Definitely not his wife. And neither Eric or Finn had bothered to introduce us, likely assuming we’d met somewhere along the way. And that’s when it all fell into place for me. I knew exactly who the little bombshell was.

“You’re Eric’s little sister,” I said, and I grinned from ear to ear as she begrudgingly stepped forward to shake my hand and introduce herself.

Tags: Jana Aston Wrong Erotic
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