Prologue
Harper
I don’t want to say I’ve got my life together. That’s asking for trouble, right? But, well, I kind of do have my life together.
I know, I know. It sounds like I’m bragging here. Which I’m not. Really. It’s just that at twenty-five, I adore my job as a second-grade teacher, I’ve got a cute but admittedly tiny apartment I’ve decorated to look like I’ve stepped into a super fancy house in the Hamptons, and I’ve got my boyfriend.
Well, my soon-to-be-fiancé, if I’m reading the signs about this evening right.
And I have a feeling I am.
I’m waiting impatiently as the crowds mill around, nerves and excitement pinging. I glance at my phone and chew on my lip. Dex is late. This shouldn’t surprise me. He’s always late and has been ever since our first flush of high school love when we were seventeen.
I crack open my can of soda and take a sip. I need to chill out, take in the Santa Monica sights. It’s a beautiful evening, the sun glistening on the calm water, the sound of laughter and music floating on the warm October breeze.
Buuuuut I can’t help myself. Tonight could be the night I’ve been waiting for. The night Dex finally asks me to marry him.
I can’t help but run through the signs:
Dex seemed super nervous when he asked me to meet him here.
We are at one of the most romantic spots in the city, the Santa Monica Pier. Seriously, Google “where to propose in LA,” and this place comes up.
He told me to meet him at the Ferris Wheel, site of countless romantic proposals, and soon to be the site of our romantic proposal.
It’s sunset. I mean, come on! Sunset? The. Perfect. Time. To. Propose. Period.
And yes, in case you’re wondering, I am talking about Dex Ryder, star of the smash hit TV series, Serious Bite. Of course, when we first fell in love, he was plain old Dexter Grubb, before he changed it up and became the phenomenon he is today.
I don’t care about any of that. To me, he’s Dex, my high school sweetheart, fellow drama club geek, who also happened to be the school’s football star. The guy who took me to senior prom. The guy I held out for right through college, until I could be with him here in the City of Angels.
I tuck my bobbed hair behind my ears and search the crowd. Still no sign.
I haven’t seen Dex in over a month. He’s been filming the second series in the smash hit show in Albania, a country I had to look up on the map.
My foot grows impatient as it taps a tune out on the concrete.
“Hello, Ms. Cole,” a voice says, and I look down to see one of my students beaming up at me. She’s clutching onto her mommy’s hand, looking even smaller than her seven years amidst the crowd.
Some teachers make sure they live in a different neighborhood from the one their school is in to avoid seeing their students when they’re off duty. That’s not the way I roll. I love my job and my students—even the more challenging ones—and seeing the joy they get from meeting me out of school puts a big old smile on my face.
“Hi there, Violet,” I say to her as I smile at both my student and her mom.
“You look pretty, Ms. Cole,” she tells me.
I beam at her. “Thank you. It’s a new dress.”
In fact, I bought my dress the moment Dex told me to meet him here. Call it a sixth sense, but I knew I needed to look special tonight. I spotted this navy floral V-neck dress with the handkerchief hem in my favorite vintage store last weekend. The moment I put it on I knew it was the dress. The one I got engaged in.
“I hope you don’t mind us coming to say hi, only little miss here was super excited to tell you something,” Violet’s mom says.
“It’s fine. Really,” I reply. “What do you have to tell me, Violet?”
“Mommy got me this.” Violet thrusts a magnet at me. It’s an illustrated view of the pier, complete with the famous Ferris wheel and sunset.
“Oh, Violet, it’s beautiful. Do you want to bring it to school tomorrow to show everyone?”
Her entire face lights up in a beaming smile. “Yes, please!”
I wink at her as I hand the magnet back. “It’s a deal, then.”
“Thank you, Ms. Cole. You’re very kind,” Violet’s mom says.
“It’s Harper, and you’re welcome.”
“Are you meeting some friends here? If it’s some other teachers from school, we’ll make sure to get out of your hair right away,” she replies.
A mixture of anticipation and excitement claims my belly. “No other teachers. I’m meeting—” I flick my gaze to Violet who’s hanging on my every word. I don’t need Violet spreading the news around class that Ms. Cole met her boyfriend at the pier. I’ve got to have some boundaries. “—a friend.”
Violet’s mom gives me a knowing look. “In that case, we’ll definitely leave you to your evening.” She takes her daughter’s hand in hers and leads her away.
“See you at school, Ms. Cole,” Violet says over her shoulder.
“Sure thing. And remember that magnet.”
“I promise.”
As the two disappear into the throngs, I scan the crowd once more. This time, my eyes land on him, and my heart squeezes.
Dex is a sight for sore eyes. With great genes from both his Brazilian mom and all-American lumberjack dad, he’s got that tan, brooding, stubble-lined jaw thing going on with rich brown eyes, the color of chocolate. He wears his hair long and messy, down to his chin, which he runs his fingers through with hot guy regularity, making his newfound fans swoon.
I glance down at his oversized white shirt, open to expose his impressive pecs and smooth, tan skin, a collection of chains hanging from his neck. It’s a little…how do you say?…look at me. Yeah, that’s it. Not his usual style, that’s for sure.
People turn to look at him as he approaches. Looking the way he does, he’s always attracted attention.
But tonight, it feels different. They know who he is.
With his Hollywood star in the ascendency, it’s not surprising, but a part of me wants to tell them hands off. Dex is all mine.
My belly flips when his eyes land on mine, and I suddenly feel light, my limbs tingling with anticipation.
“Hey, babe,” he says as he saunters over to me and pulls me into an embrace.
“I’ve missed you so, so much,” I tell him as I wrap my arms around him and plant a kiss on his lips.
“Yeah, you too, Harps. It’s been a while.”
“A whole month. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.”
I touch the strings of necklaces against his chest. “Is this a new look for you?”
“I’m trying something new. You like?” He holds his arms out and does a quick spin, showing off his loose-fitting top, tucked into faded jeans on one side, the other left to hang casually at the side.
He looks like a model on a shoot, selling jeans and sexiness.
“It’s different,” I reply.
“Different good?”
Of course it’s good. Dex always looks good. From his high school football uniform to his current ensemble and everything in between, Dex does things to clothes. Good things. And clothes thank him for it.