“Go on, go do your job,” Ryan says, pointing upstairs.
“And miss this? Never,” Nick says, slumping down onto my sofa.
“Nick,” Ian warns.
“You’re such a…”
“Upstairs, now!” Ryan orders them.
“Don’t get used to this,” Ian threatens, before climbing the stairs, followed by his brother, then by Evan.
“Do you want to explain what’s going on?” I yell.
“Only if you calm down first.”
“What do you want, Ryan? And what the hell are they doing here? And why the fuck does Evan know what’s going on?” I’m hysterical by this point.
“One thing at a time, okay? Don’t wind me up.”
“You’re getting wound up?”
“Of course I am! You’re already screaming at me and I haven’t even started talking yet!” he yells impatiently.
“I’m only getting worked up because you still haven’t told me what the fuck has happened!”
“You, Christine. That’s what’s fucking happened.”
He steps towards me.
“You know those moments where it seems like the whole world is frozen, waiting for something amazing and unexpected to happen? Well, in one of those moments, something did happen. To me.Youhappened.”
“Fuck…” Nick’s voice floats down from upstairs.
“Would you mind pissing off?”
“Yep,” he says, disappearing again.
“I don’t get it…”
“Right now, my brothers are up there painting your bedroom walls.”
“What?”
“You think I can sleep in a pink bedroom?”
“It’s more lilac than…”
“Do you think I care about that?”
I shake my head.
“Here,” he says, opening one of the duffel bags. “A jersey, a hoodie, a tracksuit…and it all has my number on it. Because you can’t just go around wearing anyone’s number. So, here you go. Number three. The perfect number.”
“Because you’re perfect?”
“No…because you are.”
“Are you sure?”
