Page 123 of Proposal Play
Maeve
It’s open studio night at Upside Down, so we’re all working on our own moves, some basic, some advanced, getting one-on-one instruction as we go. I’ve been flirting with inverts, but I’m not there yet. Mostly since, well, I don’t want to break my hands. Or my neck. I like both body parts.
The studio is lit with soft, ambient light that highlights the sleek poles, mirrors lining one side of the room.
As the class winds down, I glance at Everly in the mirror. She’s so determined, and now she’s working on her Ayesha—a move I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to master. The level of strength required is beyond me. I look over to Kyla, the main instructor and manager, who’s a few feet away. I grip my pole, trying to prep for my basic climb, something I love to work on all the time since it’s good for my hands and my hands are my life.
“Good job today,” Kyla says. “You’ll be working on your Ayesha in no time.”
I laugh, nodding to my friend. “The thing about me is I think I can do stuff like that, and then I can’t even invert well.”
“Yes, you can, Maeve,” she replies as she steps closer. “I’ve seen you do it.”
“You know what I mean—without looking like a limp, wet pool noodle.”
“You look like one of my badass students working on her skills, just like Everly. And you’re fearless.”
I glance around the studio again. The air feels different now, quieter, with only a few of us left working. “Speaking of fearless,” I say, lowering my voice, “can you help me with some floorwork?”
Kyla raises a brow. “What are you thinking?”
“Pin-up girl, leg sweep, maybe a backslide.”
She grins. “Someone’s planning a fun evening.”
I smile, a little secretive. Like a cat about to catch the canary—or, in my case, the hockey player. And honestly, I can’t wait.
After class, we head to Sticks and Stones, a lively bar with pool, games, and excellent cocktails. The five of us squeeze into a booth where the music isn’t playing too loud. When Gage, the tattooed owner, swings by to take our orders, things seem normal with my friends. But the second he’s gone, all eyes turn to me.
Josie huffs.
Fable taps her fingers on the table.
Everly’s gaze sharpens.
And Leighton points to an imaginary watch. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s been almost four weeks since youmarriedyour husband, and you only told us a few days ago about the great banging. We’re going to need every detail, plus the biggest apology for keeping this from us.”
Her voice carries that mix of playful annoyance and genuine fury that only friends can muster.
Josie crosses her arms. “Exactly. What the hell? I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from us.”
“Itoldyou the other morning!” I protest. “Hello! I texted about the great banging.”
They all roll their eyes, perfectly synchronized like they’ve been rehearsing for some eye-rolling contest.
“You gave me hell about my boss having a crush on me for over a year,” Fable chimes in, leaning closer, her hazel eyes searing. “You didn’t let up. And now, you went off and didthisin secret. I think you’re going to need to serve some time in friendship jail for this.”
“I don’t need to go to friendship jail,” I say, half laughing. “That sounds terrible.”
“Then explain yourself,” Everly presses. “How could you not tell us about Asher?”
My instinct is to defend myself. “How do you even know it’s been going on since we got married?”
Everly rolls her eyes again. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Maeve.”
“Maybe it’s the way you blushed when we gave him marriage tips a few weeks ago,” Leighton adds.
And he didn’t follow them. He left the door unlocked when he showered, and I’ve never been happier.Still, denial is fun. “That proves nothing.”