I Do Page 12

  “I kinda thought you’d join me,” she said, a small pout on her lips.

  “Oh, right,” he started. “Lost in thought, I guess.”

  She kissed his chest.

  “It’s okay. I get it. You had a long day. I just missed you,” she said. “But that was a really cool thing you did, you and Griffin.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “I missed you, too. And by cool thing, do you mean rescuing Duncan from airport prison or making the wise choice to show him the engagement ring so he could ruin my proposal?”

  Jordan pushed herself up on her elbow. This time Noah wasn’t melting because she sure as hell wasn’t smiling.

  “What?” he asked.

  First her eyes narrowed, then widened. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or confused. Or maybe sad? What was that look? He thought he knew all her expressions, but apparently he’d never elicited this one before.

  “Ruined your proposal? Did you—did you not want to propose to me?”

  He sprang up, nearly launching her off the edge of the bed.

  “No! I wasn’t going to… I mean, yes! Jordan…I’m sorry. Shit. That’s not what I meant. I just—it wasn’t supposed to happen. Not yet. Not here. I bought a ring,” he insisted. “You know I want to marry you.”

  “And I want to marry you, too.” She sighed. “But don’t you get it? I have pictured this day—this moment—in my head a thousand times. No matter what the scenario, it always ended in me saying yes. But never once did I envision you regretting any part of it.”

  A sharp knock sounded on the door, and they both startled. Jordan rolled off the bed and strode to answer it.

  “Robe,” Noah called. “You’re only wearing a robe, Brooks.”

  But she didn’t comment. Instead she threw open the door to find Griffin standing, poised to knock again.

  “Shit,” Griffin said, catching himself before knocking on Jordan’s forehead. “Sorry.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked, and he shrugged.

  “Maggie and I kind of— We’re in the middle of— I know this is shitty to ask after you two just got engaged and everything, but I need a place to…”

  He stopped mid–awkward sentence, his eyes volleying from Jordan to Noah and back to Jordan again.

  “You guys don’t look like I imagine happily engaged is supposed to look.”

  “I’m going to change,” Jordan said, and she grabbed clothes out of her suitcase and slipped back into the bathroom.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Griffin asked her, and she glanced at Noah.

  Noah sighed.

  “I think you two might be switching rooms.”

  “Is Greece cursed or something?” Griffin asked.

  Jordan popped out of the bathroom in a gray T-shirt and flannel pants. She looked at Noah.

  “A little bonding will do you good. I’ll go hang with Maggie and see you in the morning, okay?”

  “No,” he said, wanting her to hear the apology in his voice, since the word “sorry” itself didn’t cut it. “It’s not okay.”

  “I love you,” she said. “Let’s just sleep on this.” Then she slipped past Griffin and out the door.

  Griffin dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “So,” he said with a pained smile. “You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”

  Noah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them at the sound of the door clicking shut, and then narrowed his gaze at his new roommate.

  “I’m the whole freaking drawer of silverware, Reed. But you’re welcome to the couch.”

  They both turned toward what could only be described as a loveseat, and a miniature one at that.

  Griffin shrugged. “Works for me.” He walked over to what was about to become his makeshift bed and collapsed onto one of the cushions and crossed his arms. “So, are we, like, supposed to talk about our feelings and solve each other’s problems and shit?” he asked.

  Noah opened the drawer in the dresser that housed the extra linens and then grabbed a pillow from the bed, chucking the whole pile at Griffin.

  “Nope,” Noah said.

  Griffin nodded. “I like the way you think. But can I offer one piece of advice?”

  Noah shook his head. “You’re going to give it to me anyway, though. Right?”

  Griffin smiled. “Looks like you got me all figured out, Keating. All I’m going to say is this—don’t hide anything from her. Put it all out there, all your cards on the table. That’s the only way she’s going to know how you really feel, and it’s the only way she’s going to trust that even when you fuck up, you really do love her and want her to go to Washington with you because a year without her, even if it means chasing a dream, will be a fucking nightmare.”

  Noah ran a hand through his hair.

  “Are you drunk?” he asked.

  “Maybe a little. I had a couple drinks and considered sleeping in the lobby when I decided this might be the less humiliating of the two choices.”

  Noah couldn’t help it. He laughed.

  “How are you feeling about your choice right now?” he asked.

  Griffin pursed his lips. “Jury’s still out.”

  Noah leaned on the edge of the bed.

  “I’ll tell her how I feel,” he said. “But I’m not sure that’s enough to fix me ruining our engagement.”

  Griffin hissed in a breath. “How’d you do that?”

  Noah sighed. “By just being me,” he said.

  He reached for the lamp on the side table and clicked it off. Then he sank down onto the bed, still in his clothes but too wiped out to give a shit.

  “You should take your own advice,” he told Griffin. “Sounds like you still have a lot to say to Maggie.”

  Noah listened as Griffin positioned himself on what had to be the worst excuse for a bed, but he guessed it was a step above the lobby.

  “Wise words,” Griffin said. “Wise words.”

  Noah chuckled and closed his eyes.

  “Good talk, Keating,” Griffin added through a yawn.

  “Good talk, Reed.”

  And it kind of was, though Noah was sure neither would admit it to anyone outside that room.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maggie

  Jet lag had finally won, and Maggie was more than willing to succumb. Her will was nothing against the weight of her eyelids. So what if she didn’t know where Griffin had been for the past hour or if he was coming back.

  “I need to clear my head,” he’d told her after they walked back to the hotel. Maggie had known Greece would be an adventure, but she couldn’t have anticipated a journey that started with her and Griffin—the whole future in their hands—and would end with them poised for a year apart.

  Ugh. The more she thought about it, the heavier her heart became. It was as if it had to work harder to beat against the ache. How would they enjoy whatever time they had left when she knew he was leaving?

  Her eyes were open again, and she fought to shut out the world, or at least the room she was supposed to share with the man she loved. Instead she was curled up on her side alone, her body the perfect shape to fit against his, but Griffin wasn’t there.

  A knock sounded on the door, and for a second her heart raced until she remembered Griffin had his room key. Who the hell was here at this time of night?

  Maggie trudged to the door and rested her eye against the peephole.

  Miles winked, as if he could see her peering at him. He was still in his clothes from the plane, and Maggie realized she hadn’t heard from him since he’d texted hours ago about being with Alex.

  She threw open the door, ready to launch the inquisition, when she found Jordan standing next to him.

  “Okay. What’s going on?” Maggie asked.

  Miles crossed his arms and nodded at Jordan. “You first,” he said. “I have a feeling this is going to be interesting.”

  Jordan bit her lip. “Ummm…since Griffin is crashi
ng with Noah, I thought I might crash here?”

  “Griffin’s crashing with Noah?” Miles asked.

  “On your engagement night?” Maggie added. At least she knew where he was now, and that he was safe.

  Miles’s eyes widened. “I missed an engagement?” He grabbed Jordan’s hand and put the other on Maggie’s shoulder, nudging one girl backward as he tugged the other into the room with him. “We need a pint of Ben and Jerry’s or something. Do they sell that here?”

  Maggie walked to a large gift basket sitting on the dresser.

  “No ice cream,” she said. “But we have whatever’s in here.” She rummaged through the various wrapped but obviously homemade treats that had been left for all the out-of-towners at the check-in desk. “These look like a great way to eat our feelings, yes?” Maggie held up a cellophane-covered plate of what looked like small snowballs.

  “Shit,” Miles whispered, and Maggie raised her brows.

  “Spill it, Parker. Sounds like you have some feelings that need to be eaten, too.”

  Miles snatched the goodies from her outstretched hand and carried the plate to the bed where he kicked off his shoes and positioned himself cross-legged next to the girls.

  “These…” Miles removed the wrapping from the plate and popped one of the small snowballs into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned. “Are Kourabiedes.”

  Maggie and Jordan just stared as the man in front of them seemed to have some sort of sensual experience with the food in his mouth.

  “Jesus, Miles,” Maggie said. “It’s just a cookie.”

  His eyes flew open.

  “Just a cookie? Just a cookie, Mags? Taste one. Both of you get over here and taste one.”

  Maggie and Jordan couldn’t help but obey. These were apparently some important cookies. They joined him on the bed, and each popped one of the small treats in her mouth.

  Jordan let out a long, “Mmmmm,” while Maggie’s expression betrayed nothing of what she felt.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Miles asked. “You don’t like it?”

  Maggie shook her head. “It’s not that.”

  Ugh. Obviously both Miles and Jordan needed some sort of comfort of their own. Why else would they have shown up? But Maggie was in no position to make someone else feel better when she felt so crappy herself.

  “Hey,” Miles said, his voice soft and gentle, as if he’d heard her inner monologue and knew that whatever he needed her for, maybe right now she needed him a little bit more. “It’s okay, Mags.” He grabbed her hand between his and kissed her knuckles. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

  Maggie pressed her lips together and forced a smile while Jordan popped another cookie into her mouth.

  “I’m listening,” Jordan said. “Just burying my emotions in powdered sugar.” She squeezed Maggie’s knee. “How about you go first, then, Miles?”

  “Like a circle of sharing or something?” he asked. “I dig it.” He rose and padded over to the dresser until he found whatever he was looking for. Then he joined the two girls on the bed again. “Here.” He handed Maggie a miniature bottle of ouzo. “Like Lord of the Flies. Our own version of the conch shell. Whoever has the ouzo has the floor. All others shall remain quiet.”

  Jordan held up a third cookie. “Sucks to your ass-mar!” Then she popped it into her mouth.

  Miles narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Sorry,” Jordan said. “Couldn’t help it. Maggie has the conch.”

  “Fine,” Maggie said. “I’ll do this on one condition. No advice or trying to solve anyone else’s problems until we’ve all had the floor to air our grievances.”

  “This is very official,” Miles said. “I like it.”

  And then Maggie started from the beginning—from coming home a mess the other night, to Griffin not only keeping the letter from her but not telling her he was applying for the fellowship in the first place, to Maggie telling him she couldn’t move to Washington. As soon as she finished, Miles opened his mouth to speak, but Maggie shook her head.

  “You aren’t holding the conch yet, and I’m not quite done with it.”

  She unscrewed the top and took a tiny sip, really only for the purpose of ceremony. Then she closed it back up and handed it to Miles.

  “No comments on my story,” she told him. “Only your story. And then you drink and pass it to Jordan.”

  He accepted the bottle without hesitation.

  “Deal,” he said. “But I’m going out of order.” He took his sip before he spoke. “Liquid courage,” he added. “May not be much, but it’s more than I had thirty seconds ago.”

  Jordan narrowed her eyes. “There better be enough left for me, mister.”

  He shook the bottle so she could hear the liquid slosh around.

  “Now zip it while I have the conch.”

  Jordan made a motion of zipping her lips and throwing away the key, and for the first time that evening, Maggie laughed. Sure, life was one big ball of suck right now, but these two people—an old friend and maybe a new one, too—could get her to smile in spite of it.

  “I think I’m maybe, possibly, falling for a guy I met this morning. The guy, by the way, who has made it possible for us to eat our feelings this evening—thank you, Alex. And I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that in mere hours this guy has broken down every barrier I put up for the past few years or that I don’t think I can stop this train from flying right off the tracks by the end of this weekend.”

  He held up the bottle, studying it with his brows furrowed.

  “Just drink it,” Jordan said.

  She winked at him, and he didn’t waste a second, the bottle opened and drained almost before she finished speaking.

  “I’ve been waiting years to get the dirt on you,” Maggie said, knowing it wasn’t easy for Miles to open up and wondering what brought on the change.

  “I do owe you some history here. And I guess you both get to weigh in now.” Miles leaned back against the headboard and crossed and uncrossed his arms. Maggie had never seen him anything other than in control. That’s why she loved him so much. He was her best friend. Her rock. But she’d never realized that maybe all this time Miles needed his own rock, too.

  “I’ve never been ashamed or afraid to be who I am,” he continued. “I enjoy sex with a man as much as I do a woman. I fall for a person’s inner beauty as much as what’s on the outside, and that should go for everyone. And maybe my options are a little broader than someone who only likes men or only likes women, but fuck. I’ve never had to apologize or defend who I was…until Cole.”

  Maggie raised her hand, and Miles chuckled.

  “Yes, Maggie?”

  She held out her hand and stared pointedly at the empty bottle in his. He relinquished it.

  “My little rule follower,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes.

  “The floor is mine, now, Mr. Parker, mainly because I need a second to ask—who the hell is Cole, and can I virtually kick his ass for making you feel like you are anything other than spectacular?”

  Miles snatched the bottle back. Jordan’s eyes followed the action as if she were watching a tennis match.

  “Cole happened before I met you. And it wasn’t like you think. Not at first. Cole knew I was bi. But he’d only ever dated gay men before. And it was fine in the beginning. Pretty fucking fantastic, actually. Then I’d notice a beautiful woman—just look at her—and he would accuse me of switching sides. If I checked out a guy, he’d tell me to just come out already and be done with it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then through his hair.

  Maggie knew what was coming next. She should have always known, that Miles was Miles not just because he liked to keep things light and fun. Miles was Miles because someone had broken his heart, had made him feel like he couldn’t be himself and be loved at the same time.

  Maggie raised her hand again, and Jordan grabbed the empty ouzo bottle from Miles.

  “I’m starting to think the who
le Lord of the Flies theme maybe isn’t appropriate for our sad love stories. Plus, I don’t think Maggie here can hold her tongue anymore. I hereby retire the conch and give everyone in this room permission to speak freely. All those in favor, eat another cookie.”

  All three reached for the plate at the same time. But Maggie couldn’t wait the span of time it would take to chew and swallow, so she spoke as soon as she could.

  “You loved him. Didn’t you?” she asked, and Miles nodded. “But he couldn’t handle the bi thing.” Again, another nod. “Okay,” she continued. “Pep talk time, if it’s okay to do before Jordan’s turn.”

  Jordan nodded earnestly, so Maggie went on.

  “Cole couldn’t handle you being bi, sweetie. But that was his problem, not yours. I’m sorry he broke your heart. What’s worse is he made you believe that other people would feel the same as he did. But you are one of the most beautiful, loving people I know. Who you have the potential to fall in love with has nothing to do with your capacity to be faithful, and you know that.”

  But Maggie wasn’t a stranger to insecurity or the way fear of the unknown could warp your perception. Miles was one of the strongest, most confident people she knew. At least, that’s what he’d let her see. Now she understood that they all wore masks at one time or another, not necessarily lies but only sharing one version of the truth.

  “But, honey,” she continued, “keeping everyone at a distance for years is one hell of a lonely place to be. I know. I invented that game. But if you don’t risk your heart again—if you don’t trust that someone can love you for your heart and soul no matter what—then it’s worse than getting it broken because it’ll never be quite whole. Not all by itself.”

  Jordan sighed. “Noah’s heart makes mine whole.”

  Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Griffin makes mine whole, too.”

  Miles groaned. “Then why are you two here and your You complete mes down the hall?”

  “Because Griffin broke my trust in him. And he’s leaving for a year,” Maggie told him.