Page 81 of All In

“Like you two,” she says, gesturing between us. “The second one of you isn’t paying attention, the other is watching intently. The hand-holding and blushing and all the bright, new love in your eyes.”

Her smile softens, and my heart threatens to punch its way out of my chest. What does that even mean? The love in our eyes? We aren’t actually in love with each other.

“I still look at you like that,” Carlos says, breaking the moment and saving me from my internal spiral.

“He does,” I choke out, since I’m not sure what else to say. “How did you two meet?”

Carlos laughs, and María grins. “High school. We were lab partners our freshman year. We were dissecting frogs.” A shiver races down my spine, and María nods. “My exact reaction. My hero over here helped me, though. Never had to touch a dead frog and still got an A.”

Sliding into the seat next to María, Carlos wraps his arm around her, pulling her in for a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “And I’d do it again, mi cielo.”

Giggling, María pulls away. “He didn’t tell me until years later that he didn’t want to touch the frogs, either. He planned on taking a failing grade. Until he got paired with me.”

Gray squeezes my hand again. “That’s so sweet.”

María’s eyes dart between the two of us. “So, how did you two decide to take your relationship from friends to more? What was the tipping point?”

It’s not like I can tell them that we haven’t, so I’m not sure what to say. I mean, telling them I got left at the altar and then we somehow ended up married in Vegas doesn’t really seem as romantic as saving someone from having to dissect frogs.

“Well,” Gray says, clearing his throat. “I think I’ve always loved Harlow.” There’s a soft quality to his voice that has my stomach flipping. “Even when we were kids. You know,” he says, laughing a bit, “when we were twelve, I asked him to marry me.”

María and Carlos laugh again, but they’re both entranced by Grayson’s story, and I turn my full attention to him.

He’s wearing a small smile, his eyes soft in my favorite way.

“I definitely didn’t know what marriage was even about back then. I just knew my parents were married, and they got to do everything together, and that sounded like a fun time.”

María sighs. “So sweet.”

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed to death, and I can’t drag my eyes away from Gray.

He grins, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “So then, I asked him again at sixteen.” He pauses, then laughs. “He wasn’t impressed.”

There’s more laughter from Carlos and María, but I can hardly breathe, let alone laugh.

“He told me we were too young to get married, but that if I asked him again at twenty-five, he’d say yes.” He looks away from them, holding eye contact with me. It’s intense. So intense that it makes my heart climb into my throat, and no amount of swallowing will knock it back to my chest where it belongs. “And now, here we are. Took me a long time, but I finally got him.”

He holds my gaze for a few beats longer, then he finally looks away.

“So you’ve just been in love with each other your entire lives? Oh, that’s so precious.”

I can barely hear María gushing about how precious we are. I’m staring at the side of Grayson’s face, watching as his lips move. I can’t make out any of the words he’s saying, but he’s talking. Smiling. Laughing.

I’m frozen. Lost as I stare at him. That was a joke, right? When he told me he wanted to marry me? That was just kid shit. It had to be. If it wasn’t… why didn’t he ask me again?

Only… he couldn’t have. By the time we were twenty-four, I was already engaged to Josh. He couldn’t have asked me to marry him. It was a joke. It meant nothing. He didn’t actually mean it.

But then why did it feel so real? Why was he staring at me like that? Why was my heart pounding so hard as he told the story?

I startle when a plate is placed in front of me.

My hand moves, lifting the fork and putting it in my mouth. My jaw works, chews, and my throat swallows. I wash it down with wine. Then water. But I don’t taste it. I barely hear the conversation around me.

My mouth is moving, so I know I’m saying words, but nothing is making sense to me. Because if that story is real… and if that’s really how Grayson felt… then why didn’t he tell me?

Why haven’t we talked about it before?

Before the wedding, he made an offhanded comment about it, and I—I said it wasn’t real. Because it wasn’t. There’s no way it was real.