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Chapter Sixteen

Lainey

The smoky, caramelized scent of grilled meat greets me when I walk into Harvest Moon. I’m not letting myself eat it because of my IBS, but I can at least enjoy the smell.

The chicken will be delicious, too. Harry and his team don’t know how to cook anything that’s not delicious.

I went to a downtown Cleveland boutique on my lunch and splurged on an emerald-green strapless dress. It hits just above my knees. I’m wearing a simple black shrug and black sandals with it. It might be the dressiest outfit I own.

Suki told me the women get pretty dressy at this team dinner, and when I see a woman walk by me in a flowy gown, I’m really glad she prepared me.

“Damn.” Bash approaches me, his arms open and his grin wide. “You look incredible, Lane. You’re sexy as hell in that dress.”

My stomach flutters as he embraces me. I haven’t seen him much lately. Tonight, he’s wearing a light-gray suit with a dark-blue dress shirt beneath, the top button of his shirt undone. His wavy dark hair has been tamed into a combed-back style, a stubborn lock of hair falling over his forehead.

He just said I’m sexy . And he smells so good. Also, his muscles. My brain is short-circuiting from sensory overload.

“How was your day?” he murmurs.

“Pretty good.”

His deep laugh sends his warm breath brushing over my ear. “Did I just feel your stomach growling?”

I pull back, grinning sheepishly. “I didn’t have time for lunch.”

“C’mon.”

He takes my hand and leads me toward a side room of the restaurant. Carter and Suki rented out the entire place for this dinner. They invited every player, coach, staffer and their families. I’m a little bit early and there are already more than fifty people here.

There’s a long row of tables set up along one wall of the side room, and it’s filled with appetizers. Bash releases my hand and grabs a plate. I follow his lead.

“Hey, Lainey,” Leo says from nearby. “You haven’t been able to get rid of this asshole yet?”

Bash flips him off. I’m too busy loading up my little plate with as much food as I can fit on it. Shrimp cocktail, caprese skewers and stuffed mushrooms. Yes, yes, and hell yes. I’m not risking the bacon-wrapped jalapeno poppers Bash took four of, but they look amazing.

“How’s your day going?” I ask as I join Bash at a little standing table.

“Ugh. Better now. I spent seven hours on the ice today.”

“Wow, why?”

“Double practices, plus some extra drills. Which we need, but it still takes a lot out of us.”

“You can eat double dessert tonight with no guilt, though.”

He barks a single note of laughter. “If I want to feel like I ate an elephant tomorrow at five thirty a.m. when I wake up to do it all over again.”

“Aw, poor Bash,” I tease. “All work and no play.”

He’s about to respond when Hallie and Charlotte approach us. Charlotte is wearing a simple, pretty blue dress with a simple white headband in her short pink pixie cut. Hallie’s dress is purple with a full skirt, her curls loose.

“Look at you two,” I say, stepping back from our table to admire them. “Beautiful!”

Hallie does a little curtsy. Charlotte gives me a half smile and I sense that she didn’t choose her outfit herself.

“We snuck out of the kids’ room to ask you how many stars there are in the sky,” Hallie says.

“The kids’ room?”

Charlotte shrugs. “Dex and Mara are helping us do a craft. Mara said motherfucker when she cut her finger on a staple gun.”

I arch my brows, amused. “And you left that to come here?”

“It’s a million, isn’t it?” Hallie blurts. “I told her it’s a million, but she doesn’t believe me.”

“I think it’s infinity,” Charlotte explains. “No one’s ever counted all of them because there are so many.”

“Those are both excellent guesses.”

“Yeah, but who’s right?” Hallie presses.

“Well, you know how we can look up at the sky at night and see stars? In the entire sky, if it’s completely clear, there are around nine thousand visible stars.”

“That’s close to a million,” Hallie says.

“No, it’s not!” Charlotte gapes at her.

I exchange a smile with Bash.

“You know how we live in a galaxy?” I say.

Both girls nod.

“Well, scientists estimate there are about two trillion galaxies in our universe. That’s a number so big we can’t really even comprehend it. And in every one of those galaxies, there are billions to trillions of stars. We don’t have a total number, but it would be very, very large if we did.”

“I want to be a star scientist,” Hallie says.

“An astronomer? You should.”

“An astromoner.”

“It’s astronomer , Hals,” Charlotte says.

Mara comes into the room, a white bandage wrapped around one of her index fingers.

“Girls, what are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be working on your posters.” She smiles at me and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Hey. I’m helping the kids make posters for the locker room.”

“Do you guys get to eat?”

“Yeah, Harry fed us before everyone else got here. I’m sure I’ll also have some of the mac and cheese they’re making for the kids.” She looks from Bash to me. “I hear we’re going out after this.”

I pinch my brows together in surprise. “We are?”

“Mara, why don’t you take the girls back to the other room?” Bash says, looking aggravated.

“Oh. Was I not supposed to say anything?”

My cheeks warm as Mara puts an arm around each of the girls and walks away.

“It’s completely okay if it’s a team thing and I’m not invited,” I say. “I’m wiped out and I want to go right home after this, anyway.”

He shakes his head. “No, you have to come.”

“We’ll see. Maybe for one drink.”

“That’s not gonna work, Lane.”

I laugh. “Oh really?”

“You’ll see why. We’re going out after this, and you’ll have a blast.”

“Even though I’m a tired introvert?”

“It’ll be fun. I promise.”

Okay, so it’s fun. A bunch of players and their plus ones are at The Factory for karaoke night. It’s crowded, and so far, we’ve been treated slash subjected to “I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston, “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” by Poison and “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond.

Bash has his arm around my shoulders, and I don’t mind at all. He had his arm around my waist when we joined the entire bar in belting out “Sweet Caroline.”

I don’t think it’s the alcohol. He had two beers and one shot at dinner and he’s been nursing the same beer since we got here.

“You having a good time?” he asks me.

“I am. You were right.”

“You should sing a song with the girls.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Aw, come on. Bet you’d like it. Have you ever sung at a karaoke bar?”

“Me? No. Are you serious? Have you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, guys,” the DJ says. “Up next, we have Bash and the Boyz. Spelled with a Z , which means this is either going to be really good or really bad.”

Bash removes his arm from around my shoulders. “That’s my cue.”

“What? You’re singing?”

He takes a long swig from his beer bottle. “Wish me luck.”

My jaw drops. “Okay...good luck? What are you singing?”

He winks at me. “You’ll see.”

Several of his teammates follow him onto the stage. I glance at Suki, who is grinning, her chin resting on her steepled hands as she looks at the stage. Harry and Mara both have their phone cameras ready to record.

Why does it feel like everyone except me knows what’s going on? I try to look like I’m in on the joke as Bash takes the mic from the DJ. Carter, Leo, Silas and Isaac gather behind him, all of them loose and happy from the shots they’ve been doing.

The opening notes to “Take On Me” by A-ha start playing. He’s singing an ’80s classic! I laugh, feeling giddy. Good thing Harry and Mara are immortalizing this in video—this song has some high notes.

He starts singing, and it’s possibly the funniest cover of a song I’ve ever heard. Bash’s voice is way too deep for this one, and he’s not a singer. But his eyes are locked onto me and he’s smiling confidently. I clap and cup my hands around my mouth, cheering for him.

Then he gets to the chorus. Instead of singing the words take on me , he sings, come to prom . My smile drops away. What is this?

His teammates are swaying back and forth with their arms around each other. Singing their part of the song with him right after his lyric, which is go to prom him .

“Get it, Bash!” Dex yells, clapping.

Every time he sings the chorus, he sings it the same way, come to prom . His teammates join him, all of them in a group, as Bash unabashedly belts out the highest notes of the song.

The entire bar is cheering for him. I’m laughing, but I also have tears in my eyes. There’s a massive knot in my stomach. Bash wouldn’t make fun of me. He wouldn’t. But still, I’m wondering if this song is him making fun of me asking him to prom.

Near the end of the song, he walks down from the stage and comes over to me. The whole bar is hooting and hollering as he gets onto his knees.

“Lane, I don’t just want to be your friend,” he says, his expression turning serious.

My heart hits the floor and I can’t help it—the tears roll down my cheeks.

“I want so much more,” he continues. “And I want to start by doing what I couldn’t do seven years ago. Will you go to prom with me?”

My jaw drops. I swipe my fingertips over my cheeks to clear them. Even though I don’t know what’s happening, I know this is the most shocking, absurd, amazing moment I’ve ever imagined.

“Prom?” I manage.

“Yeah. I’m having a prom just for you. And me. For us. All you have to do is say yes.”

He takes my hand in his, hope swirling in his eyes. I can’t believe this is real. It’s everything my younger self dreamed of. Actually, it’s more because Bash did this himself. I didn’t imagine it.

He wanted to. And he did.

“Yes.” I squeeze his hand. “I’ll go to prom with you.”

Everyone around us is yelling and cheering. Bash hands off the microphone and embraces me, my feet leaving the ground as he lifts me up so we’re eye to eye.

His lips are on mine. My heart backflips wildly as he kisses me. The kiss is soft and sweet, but there’s certainty, too. Like he’s been waiting forever for it and there’s no doubt in his mind.

I’m breathless and a little dizzy when he sets me back down, everyone around us still cheering.

“We’re going to prom?”

It’s September—not the right time of year to crash a high school prom. But Bash just rewrote the chorus to a classic ’80s song to invite me to one, so I can’t help wondering what’s in store.

He gives me that sexy grin I never really got over. “You bet your ass we are.”

He cups my cheek and kisses me again. I still feel like I’m in an alternate reality.

It’s happening, though. And if I have further doubts, there’s video evidence.

I’m almost twenty-five years old, and I’m going to my first prom.