Page 231 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

“And,” he continues, “I understand how interwoven your relationships are with Penn and Carter. I’m not asking you to choose. I’m just asking if you’ll accept me, too.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Of course I will.”

“I have something for you.” His voice comes out nearly hoarse, and he pulls something from his pocket.

A box.

Oh my God, is he going to propose?

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting my emotions. We’re still in college?—

“It’s not a ring,” he says under his breath.

I exhale. “Not that I-I mean, one day?—”

“Sydney.”

I go still and take the box from his hands. Unlike a ring box, it’s a bit flatter and bigger. I crack it open, catch a glimpse of gold, and immediately shut it again.

“You didn’t.”

He smiles. “Look.”

I crack it open again. Slower.

My grandmother’s bracelet sits nestled in black velvet, the inscription on the underside gleaming up at me.

It’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.

Tears fill my eyes, and my hands tremble. “You took this from your mom?”

He chuckles. “I explained how I got it, but also where it came from. And she was more than happy to give it to me… for you.”

He takes the box from me and lifts out the familiar bracelet. It’s been cleaned, the gold shining in the string lights around us. I hold out my wrist and let him clasp it on. The metal is cold against my skin. The bruises and marks from the chains only recently completely faded, and I rotate my wrist to admire the bracelet.

“I love you,” he says quietly.

I lean in toward Oliver and kiss him.

Cheers go up around us, and suddenly Penn and Carter burst out from behind two fuller trees. They dive on us—well, mostly on Oliver—and ruffle his hair. Penn smacks a kiss to his cheek.

Oliver groans and shoves them off us.

Carter crawls back up on my other side, lifting the blanket and sliding under it. “How was his grand gesture, Syd?”

I snicker. “Pretty good. How much did you hear?”

“All of it,” Penn says. He sits across from us, leaning back on the blanket. “We’re excellent eavesdroppers, but Ollie knows how to project.”

“I was trying to be quiet,” Oliver grumbles.

“A loud whisper,” I allow, my smile widening. “It’s okay. It happens.”

Carter snorts. “Yeah, like premature ejaculation.”

Oliver reaches over me and punches his arm. “Get fucking lost.”

I lean against Oliver, resting my head on his chest. “Was Perri part of this? She disappeared…”