Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
It’s the best fucking time of my life, and I’m a man who is almost living the dream. But there’s one thing that still needs to occur to make that “almost” a reality—marrying her.
Laughable, right? I know.
Trust me, our unmarried status has nothing to do with my lack of trying.
Three proposals I’ve attempted so far. The one on her rooftop. One that involved taking her to my uncle Brad and aunt Paula’s lake house and proposing while we were out on the water. And the last one involved showing her how much I love her by surprising her with a fluffy blond ball of Labrador puppy and the engagement ring around his little collar.
You’d think she would’ve said yes to one of those, right? Wrong. Three proposals have only led me to three no’s and a puppy that Sophie named Frankie.
It’s incredibly ironic that I spent so much of my young life running from marriage and am now chasing after it like a dog with the mailman, but now that I’ve given myself over to loving Sophie, I need the commitment.
I need to lock her down, seal the deal, and make it official that she’s not going anywhere for the rest of our lives.
But soon, that’s all going to change.
Once I’m outside the door of our building, I start the four-block walk toward the restaurant where I reserved a table for two. An Italian place my niece Lexi loves and has the perfect intimate ambiance for tonight.
Paesano is a well-known spot for locals in Little Italy, and its quaint charm and romantic vibes of candlelight and wood beams and classical Italian music are exactly what I need to set the mood that ends in Sophie finally saying yes.
I pull my cell out of my pocket and shoot her a message as I come to a stop in front of the restaurant.
Me: Where ya at, babe?
Her answer comes in a minute later.
Sophie: Running about ten minutes behind. Had some issues getting everything broken down after the event. But I’m on my way! And please please please, tell me there’s no wait because I’m starving!
Little does she know, there’s no line because I’m a man with a plan. A proposal plan, that is. But in the name of taking her by surprise—which is a hard thing when I’ve already done this three times—I send her back a little white lie.
Me: Hostess said there’s only a ten-to-fifteen-minute wait. So, by the time you get here, our table should be ready.
I don’t make a point to lie to my girl, the woman I will marry someday real fucking soon, but sometimes, there’re exceptions, and it goes without saying, tonight is one.
Sophie: Wooo-hooo! Thank everything! See you soon, baby!
I grin and go to slide my phone back into the pocket of my jeans, but when it vibrates in my hand, I lift up the screen to find a few messages inside my group chat with my brothers.
Ty: Starting a pool. $50 bucks to play. Who is betting that Sophie says yes? Who is betting that Sophie says no? Personally, I’m on Team No.
Flynn: LOL. I got $50 on yes.
Remy: Put me down for no. Soph is hard-core. No way she’s saying yes tonight.
I roll my eyes.
Me: She’s going to say YES, you fucks.
Ty: Uh oh…is someone feeling a little nervous?
Me: I have no reason to be nervous because Soph is going to say yes.
Remy: I have to hand it to her, she keeps shit entertaining.
Ty: For real. I love that she’s made it clear she wants to marry Jude, but she’s got him proposing all over the fucking city because he doesn’t know when she’ll say yes.
Me: I’ve only proposed three times, dude.
Flynn: About to be four.
Ty: HAHAHAHA
Me: One day, you smug bastards are going to be knocked on your ass by a woman, and I’m going to laugh MY ass off.
Ty: Is this woman knocking me on my ass because she wants to fuck me? Because then, I can definitely get down with that cause.
I just shake my head. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. They all do. But currently, they’re still deep in their ways of noncommitment and avoidance.
I can’t really blame them, though. Not too long ago, I was them, oblivious to what I was missing and the fact that I wasn’t really living by carrying the heavy weight of avoidance.
Thank fuck for Sophie.
I glance at my watch and see I’ve been bullshitting with these assholes for far too long, and I send them one final message.
Me: Whoever put their money on no, be prepared to pay the fuck up.
And then I shove my phone back into my pocket and head inside to the restaurant, where the hostess leads me straightaway to the table I reserved, tucked away in the far corner of the room and already set up for the big night.