30. CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 30

“You’re the risk, I’m gonna take it”

Risk – Gracie Abrams

Deon

“ T his place has fucking everything ,” Henry says, speed pushing one of the three carts we have down the aisle of the craft store. Jack and Declan push the other two that I need to hold everything I plan on buying. Henry skids to a stop in the Christmas clearance section.

“I get what Nathalie was saying about the adrenaline rush of getting a deal,” Henry says, stopping to look at the ornaments.

“Focus,” I hiss as he and Declan begin to riffle through ornaments. “We’re on a time crunch.”

My nerves are eating me alive. We have twenty-four hours to put everything together before Nathalie comes back from her sleepover with plans to move out.

Twenty-four hours to prepare for the scariest yet most anticipated moment of my life thus far.

I know Sawyer and Maren hinted that I wouldn’t face brutal, soul-crushing rejection, but there’s still a small sliver of uncertainty.

They could be wrong.

“This one’s seventy percent off!” he yells, lifting a cookie ornament in the air.

“Get it,” Jack says, snagging a jellyfish ornament and dropping it into the cart. “That’s a good deal.”

“We need stockings,” I declare, trying to corral my friends, but as they toss more ornaments and tinsel into the cart, I realize it’s a lost cause and head off on my own to find two large and one small stocking.

I quickly find what I need and as I round the corner, I hear Declan squeal. “They have gnomes!”

Fucking hell.

“Focus!” I yell in exacerbation, “Declan, drop the fucking gnome.” He pouts and I feel like an asshole. “Fine, you can get it, but we need to get out of here, or else we will never get it all done.”

“I think he’s nervous,” Declan whispers to Jack.

“Shitting himself,” Jack responds, swearing uncharacteristically.

I frown and all three of them laugh.

“Don’t worry,” Henry says, “We got this. We’ll be done setting everything up with time to spare.”

They all wear confident smiles, but as I glance down at my list and the shopping carts, I have little faith that it will all get done in time.

There’s so much to do to pull this off.

I’ve never been loud or flashy. I shy away from the limelight and only tolerate it because it comes with the territory of being a professional athlete.

But I’ve heard the way Nathalie speaks of grand gestures of love and intense declarations in rainstorms.

She wants the loud love and I want to try to give that to her, in the way that I can.

“Why don’t we divide and conquer?” Jack takes the list from my shaky hands. “Declan, you need to get a scrapbook, tape, and stickers. Henry, you’re responsible for the glitter glue, bracelet string, and helping Declan pick out the stickers. Deon and I will tackle the storage boxes and shelves. Got it?”

Their heads bob and a small weight is lifted from my shoulders as Jack takes over. I can’t lead right now, not when I’m ready to crawl out of my skin with nerves.

Declan extends a hand, hovering between us. “True love on three?”

Henry’s hand falls on top of Declan’s, then Jack’s, and finally, I place my trembling hand over the other three.

We break the huddle with a loud, “True love!” and disperse through the craft store to collect everything we need for my grand gesture. A small, elderly lady gives me an odd smile as I follow Jack, clearly hearing our huddle and I smile sheepishly as I run away.

I only hope that we can get it done in time.

“Who has the best handwriting?”

The glitter glue and stockings sit dauntingly on the counter. I haven’t been able to tame the small tremor in my hand and if I try to write with glitter glue right now, it will turn into a disaster.

I already had scrapbook duty taken away when I couldn’t write a word without questioning if it was in a straight line or if the photo was taped evenly in the center.

“I can do it,” Declan offers, “You work on adding the stickers to the scrapbook.”

We trade places and I pick up where Declan left off, adding Christmas stickers around the photo of Nathalie and me in front of the Christmas tree and Gordie batting at my foot mid-photo.

Declan huffs when he notices that I’m placing them around the page to test the locations before I put them on, but gracefully, he says nothing, allowing me to freak out over the placement of stickers.

I want this moment to be unforgettable. I want Nathalie to understand how deeply I love her and I don’t want to fumble over my words or show her a dinky scrapbook.

It needs to be perfect.

No pressure at all.

I’m halfway through adding the hearts and arrows to a blank page when Henry groans from the garage.

“My arms are starting to hurt.”

“I’m almost done.” I can hear the laugh in Jack’s voice.

“How does someone have so much shit?” Henry’s head pokes into the house. “These boxes are fucking heavy. Are you sure you want to haul these in and out for every holiday?”

His tone is light and I shake my head.

If this goes well, and fuck, I hope it does, then I’ll proudly become Nathalie’s decoration helper for the rest of our lives. I’ll haul in her gigantic boxes and let her sit on my shoulder to reach the top of the tree.

“If she’ll let me.”

Jack returns from the garage, a slight sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He pulls a few beers out of the fridge and passes them around.

“The first shelf is up,” he says, sipping his beer. “Henry and I will put up the other two while you and Declan work on the shoe organizers.”

Jack has taken over as team leader and grateful doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling. None of this would be possible if they hadn’t given up their limited free time to traipse through craft stores, print photos, and build furniture.

My friends are the reason I’m able to plan the grand gesture Nathalie deserves.

While Henry and Declan argue over who gets the last cookie Sawyer sent, I text Maren, needing to check in on Nathalie.

How is she doing?

Maren: Uh…

Do you want me to lie to you?

I would prefer you didn’t.

Well, I can say that she has no idea you’ve planned anything.

Elaborate.

She fully believes that by this time tomorrow, your deal will be over.

She asked if you would consider joint custody of the cat.

Oh.

How’s it going over there?

Jack’s building shit and I’m freaking out.

Declan and Henry are mildly helpful.

Sounds like an average day.

Take care of her for me?

Don’t let her cry too much.

I am not a miracle worker. She thinks you don’t love her.

If I have to hear her sing “I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me” one more time, I might have to scrap your whole plan and tell her.

She’s horribly off key when she’s sobbing and disgracing Stevie Nicks.

Fuck.

Just do your best, okay?

I will.

A swell of guilt crashes into my chest, nearly sending me tumbling.

She only has to be upset today, I tell myself. T omorrow I’ll make it up to her.

I’m frowning at my phone when a distinct smell hits my nose, and I lift my gaze to find Jack, Henry, and Declan all smiling as Jack dangles a bag of pretzels in front of my face.

“He’s back,” Declan says, dumping the bag of pretzels into a bowl. I immediately snatch a handful, hoarding them like they’re Nathalie’s shiny rock collection. My friends are heathens and the bowl will be gone in minutes .

I’m savoring the last of my pretzels, silently practicing my speech, mouthing the words. When I look up, everyone is staring at me.

“Do you want to practice out loud?” Henry asks.

“Not really.”

I’m going to stumble through it tomorrow in front of Nathalie, no need to do that in front of them too. I want to keep a sliver of my pride.

“It could help,” Jack says, “Work through the nerves.”

“I nearly shit myself when I told Sawyer I loved her,” Henry admits, “I would have killed to have a practice round of what I wanted to say.”

My gaze flickers around the room where empty furniture boxes pepper the floor. Gordie perches from his tower, meets my gaze, and hisses as if to say don’t fuck this up for us.

I take a small, imperceptible step away from my demon cat. Maybe he’ll warm up to me if Nathalie says yes. I’m doing this for him, too. He could thank me with a meow and not a hiss that likely carries a curse.

“Uh…well…I-It’s,” I stumble out.

“Not great if that’s the start of your love confession,” Declan says, and Henry’s arm whips out to whack Declan in the chest. He folds over with a groan. “That hurt .”

“ Be supportive, ” Henry hisses and Delan recoils.

“I came up with this idea, in case you forgot! Who told him he should ask Nathalie to be his fake girlfriend? Me. ” He gives us all a smug look. “Do you think that was a coincidence? ”

I blink.

Then blink again.

Surely Declan didn’t suggest Nathalie because he thought we might be…good together.

“I would say I am the most supportive of this union, considering you’re both my best friends.” Delcan finishes off his statement with flair and drops onto my couch. “Now, come and whisk me off my feet with your declaration of love .”

“No.”

“Yes.” The three of them respond like a chorus.

“I need a break from building shelves and you need to get the words out and practice before they eat you alive,” Jack says, sitting down beside Declan. Henry joins him on the other side and they all stare, waiting for me to speak.

I can’t do this.

I don’t truly know what I’m going to say to Nathalie tomorrow.

I love you would be a good start, but after that it’s completely blank. Words fizzle on my tongue as I fiddle with a fidget toy, focused on the ridges of the plastic beneath the pad of my thumb.

The longer they patiently wait, the anxiety compounds, growing stronger and larger until I crack and start to speak. The corner of Declan’s lip tips up in an amused smile.

“Nathalie.” The word cracks and Henry’s lip quivers. “When I-I met you.” Jack stifles a laugh with a deep cough. “ Ugh!”

My fists curl and I begin to pace, only stopping to point at my three idiotic friends. “This was your idea! The least you could do was let me get a few words out.”

This was a horrible idea.

Why did I…How did I think I could pull this off?

I don’t do grand declarations of love. This is not me, not who I am. I love her, but is what I can give her enough? Will this be enough?

Will I be enough ?

The flashbacks of Savannah’s proposal fly across my mind. I was so, so blind to it at the time, but the cracks of our relationship were glaringly obvious when I proposed. After she said yes, it was followed by a flurry of complaints.

I wish the diamond was bigger. This one’s so small.

My nails are the wrong color.

You didn’t plan a party?

I was so ecstatic she said yes, I failed to see the other signs. Her perpetual disdain for the way I showed her my love. It wasn’t flashy or loud enough and wasn’t something she could use to brag to others.

Because of that, there’s this deep-rooted fear that it won’t be enough for Nathalie, either. I love her more than I thought was possible. She is a breath of fresh air and the warmth of the sun on my skin, the hope in the first rays of a sunrise, but she wants a loud type of love.

I don’t know if my love is enough for her.

I want it to be.

“Uh…I think he’s spiraling.” Declan steps into my path, halting my pacing. Large hands bracket my shoulders and squeeze. “Why are you freaking out?”

“W-what if it isn’t enough for her?”

More so, what if I’m not enough for her?

“Did you know she has a photo of you and Gordie on her desk at work?” My eyes dart to Henry and his smile is soft. I shake my head. “Sawyer told me last week that there are multiple photos of you and,” he points to Gordie, perched high atop his tower, “ him .”

Henry narrows his gaze on Gordie, who drew blood earlier when he attacked Henry’s ankles as he walked by. Clearly, Henry is still upset.

It’s Gordie’s kingdom and we just live in it.

“She talks about you all the time,” Declan says, raising the tone of his voice, “ Deon and I did this. Deon, blah, blah, blah. Puzzles. Tea. Pretzels. ” A small smile pulls my lip upward and Declan sobers. “Nathalie talks about you a lot. It’s quite annoying,” he deadpans, but his lips fold inward to suppress his smile.

“Why don’t you try again,” Jack prods, and I nod.

I can do this.

With a deep breath, I jump into my speech, stumbling over words and pretending that it’s Nathalie on the couch and not my three teammates, who all wear goofy grins.

The declaration is rough and choppy and I choke on my words, but I get them out, and in the end, they’re flowing out of me like the dam has been blown to smithereens and a river can flow freely once more.

When I finish, Declan is sniffling, Henry is smiling proudly, and Jack has tears streaking down his cheeks.

I grimace.

“You’re ready,” Jack says, wiping away tears. “Our boy has grown into a man.”

“For the love of—” I start, but I’m cut off by Declan, naturally.

“That was beautiful ! Absolutely marvelous. No way it came from your mind.” My eyes widen and they dart to the pile of romance novels sitting in the corner of the room, waiting to be shelved. Declan sighs. “Thought so. You had help.”

“They’re incredibly informative,” I mutter.

Henry loses it. “I used movies; you used books. Can’t make fun of me anymore.” He sticks his tongue out.

“Let’s get back to work,” I grumble, but their laughter lightens the air in the room. Their compliments and support settle in my chest, giving me the strength to start on the one task I have to complete alone: making a friendship bracelet.