Can't Match This: A Friends To Lovers Romantic Comedy
Page 21
“Oír?!” My voice hits new high notes. “The words coming out of your mouth would’ve been in direct conflict to the ones your body was saying! More importantly, you lied to me!”
“I didn’t lie to you!”
“You did! You said you were done dating, yet I go away for a few hours to an interview, and you sneak one in?!”
Gideon’s hands curls at his sides. “I can explain.”
“I don’t want excuses, Gideon. I don’t want something that’s a version of the truth. I don’t want-”
“It’s not just about what you want, Lennox.”
My jaw cracks open.
“That’s how we fucking got here.”
Confusion clouds my expression.
“The shit between us is always off balance. It’s always about doing what’s best for one side or the other. It’s been like that for years. We’ve always been trying to do what’s best for one another instead of what’s best for us.”
I fold my arms firmly across my chest.
“Relationships are about give and take. You know that better than anyone.”
“I do.”
“Well, in our friendship, you did most of the giving, and I did most of the taking. And in this bizarre bet equivalent, I did most of the giving while you did most of the taking. I let you call the shots. Lead the way. Decide how fast we go and when we stop, despite the fact stopping was never on my roster. If we’re gonna do this, it should be a better balance. It shouldn’t just be having tacos every night any more than it should be you only wanting to talk when you wanna talk. You should be willing to stand and listen. And I should be willing to run and yell.” He momentarily pauses. “I realized that a little too late yesterday, which is why I’m here now instead of at the office trying to rewrite the BJ deal.”
The response is second nature, “OG, you need to be working on that deal.”
“No. I need to be closing this one.”
His choice in metaphor crinkles my brow.
“You, Lennox Marston, are the most important person in my life. Being with you…really being with you is the only thing I give a fuck about. Whether that means I have to spend the next fifteen years waiting for another opportunity for us to be together or just fifteen more minutes to explain that Natalie, the chef, didn’t receive the email I sent to cancel, so she showed up anyway and then stayed to make you a congratulations breakfast for a very high fee, I’m prepared to do it. I’m open to negotiating where we live, what we eat, and whose family we spend which holidays with, but I am not giving up on us. That’s not up for debate. Not now. Not ever again.”
My heart pounds harshly against my chest. “You weren’t…on a date with another woman the morning you finally said you loved me?”
He shakes his head.
“Then why were you-”
“In just sleep pants? Natalie woke me up by ringing the doorbell. Turns out making love to the woman I wanna spend forever with was exhausting.”
“Right? I almost fell asleep brushing my teeth.”
Hints of mirth creep into our eyes.
“What about,” my arms wiggle in the position, “the closeness? The flirting-”
“We were talking,” he promptly corrects. “She was just that easy to get along with, a lot like you.”
His statement returns the discomfort.
“That was the major problem with every woman you threw my way.”
“Huh?”
“They were like you, but they weren’t you. And I don’t want some new-to-the-league rookie when I can have the hall of fame champion.”
My lip becomes imprisoned by my teeth.
“You overreacted yesterday. I underreacted. There’s so much new shit for us to figure out that learning the right way to respond is going to take some time, which I’m fine with as long as we’re crystal clear about one thing forward.”
“What’s that?”
“Trust.”
The word screeches like nails on a chalkboard.
“We have to trust each other, Lennox, or this will only end in flames. And you know that.”
“I do. I just-”
“Overreacted.”
“Si! But, I mean, come on! You were practically naked with a gorgeous woman strutting around your kitchen just hours after I left!”
“It was by no means my intention, something you would’ve known had you given me the chance to explain as opposed to declaring for me who I wanted to be with.”
I drop my arms and softly sigh. “Lo siento.”
A teasing smirk touches his lips. “Could you repeat that for me in English, please. My Spanish isn’t as good as it used to be.”
“Yeah, neither’s your football fling.”
“Hey!” He points a playful finger at me. “I got back in the zone! Shit was tied before our Godson was ready to meet us.”
Reflecting back to the life-changing moment, I cautiously question, “So none of that shit freaked you out? You weren’t…panicking or trying to make sure being with me was the right decision by checking out the last woman I picked out for you?”
Gideon shakes his head. “Being with you has always and will always be the right decision, Lenny.”
Relief allows my smile to beam bright.
“Now,” he closes the distance between us, “we should probably talk about one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
He fishes a note out of his pants pocket and hands it to me.
Unsure of what it could be, I hastily unfold it to see something written in familiar red lipstick that stuns me silent.
Will you marry me?
My eyes dart to where he was standing yet is now kneeling. “Lenny…”
He’s not actually going to…
“I’m gonna need an answer to that message.” Gideon pulls out a ring box from his jacket pocket. “And pretty quick since we have celebration reservations at Lupe Del Rio for a late lunch.”
His confidence is too hard not to poke. “What if I say no?”
“Then we tuck this bad boy back into my pocket until a later date and just celebrate the job offer I know you got.”
“Oh my god, I did get it.”
Gideon grins and opens the box. “You took one offer. Take this one too.”
My eyes steal a glimpse of the rose gold, diamond halo engagement ring despite the fact I don’t really care what it looks like. I leave him hanging on for only a moment longer. “Si.”
He doesn’t move as if uncertain he heard correctly. “Now in English.”
“Why? You know enough Spanish to know what I’m saying.”
“Yes, but I wanna know you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with me in both languages.”
I girlishly giggle at the same time I nod. “Yes, OG. I will marry you.”
“Only Gideon,” he announces during his removal of the ring from the box. “That’s what OG will stand for from this point forward.”
“That’s what it’s always stood for.”
A possessive groan is grabbed, and he quickly pushes the object in place.
The moment he’s on his feet our mouths meld together in unmirrored joy.
Maybe Gideon was right.
Maybe I was a shitty matchmaker.
Maybe I just ended up getting people laid rather than helping them fall in love.
Whatever the case may be, there’s no denying there’s one match I did help make, and it’s without a doubt the one that matters most.
Epilogue
About four years later…
Gideon
This is ridiculous. How is it this responsibility always falls on me? There are two of us in this situation, yet someway, somehow it always ends up being me who has to do this part.
I swear, I gotta figure out a way to combat their big beautiful brown eyes from doing this to me.
“Incoming,” I announce as I arrive at our row.
“Ooo,” Jesse, our adopted nine-year-old squeaks. “Nachos! Gimme! Gimme!”
Jesse tries not to frown. “Is that cotton candy only for you, too?”
“Dad, did you get me a corndog?” Oscar, our twelve-year-old, grumps from his end seat.
“I got everyone’s orders.”
All the eyes of my family land on me.
It’s still insane to believe most days.
Lenny and I have a family. An actual family.
We got married about a month after our engagement and spending time with our Godchild, honorary nieces, and actual nieces and nephews got us to wanting to expand ours. Fostering was a planned but difficult route. We went to classes. Opted to foster siblings, which is a harder situation to endure, and were eventually allowed to officially adopt them.
Jesse and Oscar are polar opposites despite their obvious resemblance to one another. They’re both of Dominican descent. Both lanky with brown eyes and thick brown hair. But, where she is upbeat, social, and very much into what I do for a living, he’s withdrawn, quiet, and has difficulty speaking to anyone besides Lenny, which honestly hurts as his father. My wife, my lovely, loud, let him do his own thing wife, however, does her best to coach me into being the man he needs. It’s a strange concept to me that two siblings could ever need to be treated different ways for anything other than gender. I often have to follow Lenny’s lead, and that is also frustrating because I feel like I should be doing better than I am. Shouldn’t parenting come naturally, like learning a new sport?
“Grab your stuff,” I state to my wife, hating the way we have to censor ourselves.
Part of that is related to Rainne and Alexander repeating curse words they heard us say during game night. The other is not wanting our kids tossing them out before we’re ready.
She slips out her nachos then hands Jesse hers. “Heck yes! Extra cheese!” Jesse turns her Hellcats cap backwards causing her to look more like her mother. “Dad, have I mentioned how much I love you?”
“Not today.” My teasing is proceeded with handing her bright blue cotton candy and eventually Oscar his corndog. “However, the day ain’t over.”
“This game might as well be,” Oscar complains as I sit down between him and his sister. “Why doesn’t the other team just quit? The Hellcats are killing them.”
“You don’t just quit because you’re losing,” I start to explain. “I mean, your mom does.”
“Disculpa! Don’t you dare pretend like you don’t magically turn off the video game when my points are getting too high!”
Oscar frowns at me “Wait, that’s not an accident?”
Thought losing to Lenny was humiliating enough until my death metal-loving, only wears black, somehow we bond over basketball, son schooled me in every game we play together. I’ll admit it. My pride gets in the way. Can’t let your son come out of the gate kicking your ass. That’s just rules of the jungles. It’d be like letting a junior agent negotiate a bigger contract than me, something that has never or will ever happen.
Initially, the deal with BJ wasn’t made. My decision to propose to my best friend instead of devote time to an athlete that wasn’t ready spooked Barrett Gallagher. Mick was pissed but understood what I did and respected it. The missed deal with BJ, however, had a silver lining. One of his elite teammates on his year-round team wanted representation. Turns out he was more serious than BJ and much more anxious to learn. His parents understood what it would take and quickly jumped on the opportunity for representation. Thanks to my guidance, he was drafted by the NHL at eighteen and traded to the Highland team at nineteen. Since being in the league, he’s made quite a name and rank for himself. BJ, on the other hand, ended up playing for an overseas team. It’s one of those rare moments where not making the deal was better.
Negotiating with the love of my life was the only thing I needed to be doing that weekend. Supporting her. Being there for her and her career. She loves working with couples full-time but still loves her time at the Veteran clinic. To no surprise, both of our hours have had to be cut back in order to give our family what it needs to stay strong. I travel less. Either go in early or come home later, never both. Lenny mirrors the time so we are whole and not loving the kids in a divided nature. We’ve learned we have to be co-coaches on everything from what we serve for dinner to not letting Oscar have a girlfriend.
In the bigger picture of everything, that’s what we’ve always been.
A dream team.
Except now instead of doing it to sign deals or woo athletes or impress old college pals, we do it to build a great support system for our family.
For the next generation who has to tackle the world by storm.
For our son and daughter who will know your fractured past doesn’t have to fuck up your future, and that regardless of what the world thinks, the only dreams that matter are the ones you’re willing to chase…
And that’s what a life with Lenny will always be to me.
She is the dream I am always willing to chase.
The match I’m glad she eventually made.
The deal I’m most thankful to have signed.
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