"I can drive over, you know."
"Nope," she shot back. "No way. No how. This calls for alcohol and you're drinking with me."
I glanced down at the screen of my phone. "It's only nine o'clock in the morning and I have my last final tomorrow."
"Too bad, so sad," she sighed. "'Cause you're coming over and you're drinking bloody marys or mimosas with me. Depending on how the conversation goes, we may move on to the harder stuff at lunch. And don't even try to tell me you're going to study today because we both know you've been ready for your exams for weeks."
I couldn't really argue with her. Not when she was right. "Whatever. Give me an hour to get ready."
"Just so long as you don't fall back asleep, or else I'm going to come over and pull you out of your bed," she threatened.
"Fine," I grumbled, tossing the blankets off my body and apparently talking to myself as I heard three beeps letting me know the call had ended. Odds were good that Elisa was already on the phone with a car service. I climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready because I didn't have any time to waste. It was a good thing, too, because there was a call from the doorman to my cell phone fifty minutes later to let me know my car was here. When we pulled up in front of my sister's home, she was waiting for me on the steps with a drink in each hand.
"You decided mimosas weren't strong enough?" I asked, taking one of the bloody marys from her.
"No, I decided I was morally against mixing two thousand dollar champagne with orange juice."
Startled laughter bubbled up from my throat. I pointed to the four million dollar house behind her. "I think you guys can afford it."
"You've gotta draw the line somewhere."
I followed her into the house, chuckling softly while we settled on the couch in her living room.
"Drink up and then tell me everything that's happened with you and Professor Hottie." I blushed at the thought of telling her about all the things Gabe had done to me in bed last night. She raised her eyebrows at me, her gaze scanning my face. "Okay, maybe you should leave out a few details. You are my baby sister, after all."
I told her about the time I'd spent with Gabe, what happened with the dean and his subsequent proposal. "I'm worried this is all moving too fast. I've longed for him from afar for four months, but we've only really been together for three days. And I can't help but think the only reason he popped the question is because he doesn't want me to go to Berkley in the fall."
"I'm the last person to judge you for the speed of your relationship, Charlotte. Remember me? You've known Gabe for about four times as long as I knew Brysen before I married him-married, not just accepted his proposal. And that was three days into our actual relationship."
I thought about how perfect Elisa and Brysen were together, how I'd seen it for myself from the moment I brought our mom's wedding dress to her in Lake Tahoe. They were proof that whirlwind romances could work, but their story was different from mine and Gabe's. "Brysen didn't have any ulterior motives when it came to asking you to marry him that weekend. Nothing other than wanting you to be his wife right away."
"The best advice I can give you is to talk to Gabe about your worries. Let him know what's in your heart. The only way to build a solid relationship is to communicate with each other, even when it's hard." She paused for a moment. "Actually, scratch that. Especially when it's hard."
I knew she was right. I needed to talk to Gabe when he got home tonight. I gulped down my bloody mary and reached for the pitcher on the coffee table to refill my glass. I needed some more alcohol to settle my nerves.
I was sitting and waiting for Gabe in his dining room when he got home, dinner on the table. It seemed to be our thing, and I wanted our conversation to go as smoothly as possible. Although Gabe was an excellent cook, my skills in the kitchen were lacking so I'd ordered take-out and picked it up on my way back from my sister's house.
Gabe's gaze swept over me, lingering on my legs as I uncrossed them before standing next to the candlelit table. "Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" He dropped a quick kiss on my lips and then settled into the chair next to me. "But you didn't have to make dinner. I would have done it. I like feeding you."
"And I like being fed by you."
His eyes heated at my response, his gaze dropping to my lips and I knew he wasn't thinking about watching me eat but seeing something else slide into my mouth instead. I licked my lips at the thought of tasting his cock and then shook my head, trying to fight the sensuous fog I quickly fell into when I was around him. He was too damn sexy for my own good. The food would get cold, but I knew if I didn't start this conversation now, the odds were good I'd forget what I wanted to say and we'd end up in bed together without talking at all.
I took one deep breath to settle my nerves and then dove right into the heart of the matter. "We kind of got sidetracked last night and didn't talk about the timing of our engagement and what you see happening next."
"The timing of our engagement? What's there to talk about? I asked, you said yes. It's done. My ring is on your finger." He tugged my hand into his. "And that's where it's going to stay forever."
"But we didn't really talk about why you asked me now instead of later."
His fingers tightened around me. "I thought we moved past this last night?"
"You kind of avoided the question and distracted me."
"There was a chance you were going to leave. I didn't want that to happen. Getting married solves this problem. I admitted then that asking you to marry me was influenced by my desire to keep you here. You still said yes. End of story."
His tone was harsh and I hesitated to push forward, but I kept my sister's advice in mind. "You can't just make decisions like this for both of us without talking things through with me first, Gabe."
"I know, sweetheart."
I narrowed my eyes at his placating tone. "No, I don't think you do. Don't try to feed me some macho bullshit about how you'll talk to me about this later, not until you actually stop and think about this. We both know there will be a next time, an instance when we're faced with an important decision and you'll want to decide what's best. I need to know that we'll make those decisions together. Do you get how huge this is to me?"
"I get it," he murmured. "I'm not just telling you what you want to hear so you'll be quiet. I saw a problem and I looked for a solution. It's how my brain works. I needed to keep you by my side, couldn't risk you going to California without me. It killed me to know you had that option and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it because I can't go with you, sweetheart. Not until my contract is done."
The last little bit of his speech jumped out at me. "What if I defer my acceptance to both schools? Buy us some time while you finish out your contract here and see what happens before I have to make a final decision."
"There isn't anything to see," he growled. "You said yes last night, sweetheart. You want to marry me, same as I want to marry you."
My head was spinning. "Someday, yeah. But this is going so fast."
"Four months we wasted, both of us devouring every written word we could find from the other while we couldn't be together. One hundred and twenty-nine days is not too fast. Not when we fit together perfectly as a couple."
"I'm scared," I admitted.
"I get that," he replied, turning in his chair so he could pull me onto his lap. "I really do. But what I haven't heard you say is you don't want to be my wife."
Of course he hadn't heard me say that, because there wasn't any way I could force those words past my lips. Not when it's what I wanted more than anything in the world, but I needed to know he wanted it the same way I did-a fear he'd vanquished the second he'd told me the exact number of days we'd known each other, because I'd counted each of those days too. Now, there wasn't anything else holding me back.
Chapter 13
Gabe
I sat in my car in the employee parking lot running over the events of the last several days. After our big talk, Charlotte seemed more at ease and accepting of our decision to get married. Her solution to defer for two years was perfect, but something about it was bothering me.
She'd completed her last final and we'd begun moving her into my apartment. Okay...I started moving her in while she was taking her exam. She was a little irritated at my "high-handedness." But, it didn't take me long to convince her around to my way of thinking. Especially after the third orgasm.
No matter what she said though, I could see that there was disappointment under a false bravado. She was eager to finish school and become a teacher, like her parents. I knew she would be amazing, the teacher every kid remembered years later. I wanted my sweet, genuinely happy Charlotte back. But, I didn't have a fucking clue how we could make it work.