"He said, 'Daisy, you are the love of my life. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?'"

I think Gigi has a tear in her eye.

"I said yes, of course. I wore the ring for the rest of the night with a Band-Aid taped over the band to keep it from sliding off my finger."

Daisy finishes her story and stuffs another piece of French toast in her mouth, seemingly pleased with herself.

"I'm just so happy." Gigi is most definitely dabbing at her eyes now. "This is so unexpected after—"

I cut her off with a reminder that she's still holding a torn-open sugar packet and a pointed look. I can feel Daisy's eyes on me but I ignore her and ask Kerrigan again how her classes are going.

I keep the conversation focused on Kerrigan and Gigi for the remainder of breakfast. Daisy eats everything on her plate and the bacon off mine, which keeps her quiet for the most part. I dodge questions about whether Daisy and I are allowing anyone to attend our pending nuptials, and I dodge Daisy when she attempts to accidentally stab me with her fork.

As fate would have it, the same guy who avoided riding the elevator with us earlier is now standing in the lobby, bag of groceries in hand, waiting to go up. Only this time Daisy's belligerent jazz hands are firmly tucked away, folded across her chest. And she's silent. She hasn't said a word since we left breakfast, her lips firmly pressed together as she waved goodbye to my sister and grandmother before we walked back to my place.

The guy nods his head in hello a second before Daisy opens her mouth.

"You are out of your goddamned mind if you think I'm going to marry you."

The elevator door slides open.

"Would you look at that," the guy mutters with barely a glance at the bag in his hand. "I forgot milk." And then he turns and hightails it for the lobby as Daisy stomps onto the elevator, animated jazz hands on full display.

9

Daisy

"I cannot believe that you just told your family that we're getting married next week. That is really fucked up, Kyle."

"Oh, sorry," he responds, sounding anything but sorry, hitting the button for his floor then leaning against the elevator wall, watching me. His gaze is fixed on mine, his eyes steady and self-assured. It makes me nervous, this confidence. Like he's got everything figured out. People who have everything figured out are annoying. "Do you own the announcement? You're the only one who gets to tell my family we're engaged?"

"I've already apologized for that! You know I had a valid reason. You don't!" I'm pointing at him as I speak and I'd stab him with my finger if I didn't think it would hurt my finger more than it would hurt him.

"Don't I?"

"No!" Why is he so freaking calm? "Why are you dragging this out?"

"What was I supposed to do? Thanks to your stunt last night my entire family thinks we're engaged. Gigi was the last to know and Kerrigan telling her was a foregone conclusion. The damage has already been done." He shrugs, as if we're having anything resembling a normal conversation.

"You didn't have to make it worse!"

"How did I make it worse? You're the one who gave an Oscar-worthy performance, you little liar."

"We were in too deep at that point!" I snap, stepping out of the elevator on Kyle's floor. "I thought I was helping by making you look good."

"‘Sweeter than ice cream?’" he deadpans as he unlocks his door, a long sideways glance with a giant smirk on his pretty face.

I feel my cheeks heat. Admittedly, that was a cheeseball thing to have said. I will cringe to my death over that line. But I'm not going to admit it to Kyle. "I did you a favor by making you sound romantic."

"Great job." Honestly his tone is a little sarcastic so I'm not sure we're on the same page about how great that proposal story was, but it's okay that he's wrong.

Once inside Kyle heads straight ahead to the dining room while I trail behind him.

"Sit," he tells me, pointing at the chair he's pulled out for me like we're on a dinner date or something. "Let's negotiate."

I sit. He takes the chair next to me at the head of the table so we're sitting both beside each other and face to face.

"What are we negotiating?" I ask, breaking the tension because he's not said anything. "I already told you I don't want anything."

"Well, I do."

All righty then. I stare at him, waiting.

"The thing is, Daisy, I've got a traditional family. And a board of directors to report to. And an impressionable baby sister."

"She's eighteen." Poor Kerrigan. He really does baby her.

"You're pregnant. We need to get married."

"Excuse me?" I'm positive my eyes must be cartoon wide right now. "What did you just say?" My heart has started to race and for once it's not because I'm having dirty thoughts about him or because I feel queasy or because I'm pissed off. He cannot be serious.

"Let's get married."

"Oh, no. No, no, no." I'm shaking my head as I speak. "Nope. Not happening."

"Do you have a better plan?"

"A better plan than pretending to be your wife? Are you insane? As in, legally mentally deranged?"

"Do I need to remind you that you started this?"

"Do I need to remind you that you're impossible to get hold of? And that you knocked me up?"

"Okay." He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his face hard to read. "What's your plan? Let's hear it. How are you going to do this all by yourself? Your job isn't conducive to taking care of an infant."

I'm momentarily surprised that he remembers what I do for a living. And that he's given this so much thought in the sixteen or so hours he's had to adjust to the idea.

"My plan," I reply as I cross my arms across my chest, mimicking his stance while sitting up straighter in my seat, "is to resign from that job at the end of this week. As soon as the current tour is over."

"You're scheduled on a tour this week?" He looks confused, rightly so.

"Um, well, yeah." I shrug it off and slide down in the chair a little. "But I sent my sister in my place. We're twins. Identical."

He uncrosses his arms to bring a hand up to his face with a long-suffering sigh over my idiocy. I assume that's what he's sighing about anyway. Admittedly this part of my plan doesn't sound real solid.

"Oh, relax. We don't normally do this, she's too much of a goody two-shoes. This was a one-time thing. I caught her in a moment of weakness and I had a scheduling conflict so I sent her in my place. It was a good plan."

"The scheduling conflict being me?" He raises his brows in question.

Err. Okay, so from his point of view this probably doesn't sound great, but honestly I didn't think he was going to be so interested in what my plans were so I wasn't really prepared to sell it.

"Also, I've got a conference to go to this week."

"Your planning skills sound amazing so far. Sounds like my baby is in good hands."