by D. Kelly
“This is the date I wanted for you more than anything. Well, for us. It was supposed to be our new beginning. A celebration for us making it through to the end. I thought today was as good a chance as any to recreate what we missed. We’re starting our new lives today. New home, and hopefully, the beginning of our forever.”
“Tris, our forever started the day we met . . .”
I slide out of the booth and get down on one knee in front of her. Bexley’s eyes fly open wider than I’ve ever seen them, and she gasps before covering her mouth.
I pull the ring box from my pocket and open it. I’ve had this ring since I bought the suit. Call it wishful thinking, but I knew the only way I was going back home to her that night was if I was all in. I wanted to propose back then, but waiting was the right thing to do. We needed to experience falling in love together instead of documenting our separate journeys to each other in notebooks.
“Bexley Marie Scott, you forced your friendship on me during our sophomore year of high school, and it has by far been the best thing to ever happen to me. You’ve been my best friend for ten years, but you’re also the absolute love of my life. If I promise to spend the rest of my days loving you the way you deserve to be loved, being romantic, commanding, and at times, a bit dirty, as well as supplying you with as many chocolate chip pancakes as you can eat, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I’m trying to be subtle and not hyperventilate, but this kind of pressure is no joke.
She’s nodding, but her mouth is still covered, and tears are streaming down her cheeks. I scoot closer to her and reach for her hand. “I’m going to need you to use your words, angel.”
“Yes! Tristan Xavier Jacobs, it took you long enough!”
Now, I understand why she was covering her mouth—I didn’t realize she was holding back a scream.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me this since, well . . . I don’t know, it seems like ten freaking years, but I’m sure it’s only been about six months, give or take.”
She launches herself out of the booth and knocks me off balance. We both fall to the floor as I wrap my arms around her.
Rudy peeks his head over the counter and looks down at us. “We might be closed for the night, but remember this is still a family-friendly restaurant. My Mary would have loved this. Congratulations, you two. Pancakes will be out in a jiff.”
I pull myself up and then help Bexley. When I take the ring from the box, she does a little happy dance. “You’re that excited about the ring?” I ask.
“Put it on me, Tris.”
After I slide the ring on her finger, she pulls me into a hug without even looking at it. “The ring is beautiful, but the symbolism is what matters to me. Call me old-fashioned, but knowing you love me enough to make me your wife is what excites me most. I’m probably setting back feminism a hundred years, but I feel like the only thing I’ve ever needed in my life was to be loved by you.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” I reply. Our mouths brush together, but Rudy clears his throat and interrupts us as he delivers our dinner.
“If the two of you want the diner for your wedding shower or reception, you let me know. It’s nice to see some new love christen the place.”
Bexley tears up. “Thanks, Rudy, we’d be honored. Let us get back to you once we figure things out.”
I’m pretty sure I see the old man blink back tears of his own before heading into the kitchen.
“Would you want that?” I ask.
“Maybe? At least the shower? We’re not high-maintenance people, Tris, and this place has so many memories for us. Especially now. And who knows? Someday, maybe we’ll bring our kids here for breakfast too.”
While the two of us share our excitement and talk about when we want to get married, I can’t help but think about what she said. One day she wants to bring our kids here. I’ve always wanted kids but only thought about it in the abstract.
She leans in close. “Tris, are you okay? Where did your mind go?” Her little thinking wrinkle is starting to appear.
“My mind went to babies with you.”
“Oh.” She’s blushing. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Nope. In fact, I think we should go home and get a jumpstart on practicing. I can’t think of anything better than a few more Bexleys in the world.”
She reaches for my hand. “I can. If the world has more Bexleys, we have to give it more Tristans to even the balance.”
“Who are we? In the past six months, we’ve fallen in love, bought a house, and gotten engaged.”
Bexley pushes our plates out of the way and leans across the table to kiss me. “We’re the people we were always meant to be. The universe brought us together so we could become the best versions of ourselves. I can’t wait to see how our story ends.”
“It’s going to be incredible, and I’m going to savor every moment of us from beginning to end.”
She sighs before running her finger through some whipped cream on her plate and sucking it into her mouth. “You’re so romantic, Tris.”
She probably wouldn’t say that if she could see my cock. I lean forward, and we lock eyes. “Keep sucking the cream from your finger like that, and romantic is the last thing I’m going to be.”
Bexley’s eyes dilate. “Don’t ever stop using that voice. It does the best things to me.”
“Never.” In the past few months, I’ve learned exactly what it does to her, and I can’t wait to get home. I step out of the booth and hold out my hand. “Are you ready to start making memories?”
She slips her hand in mine. “I’ve treasured every moment we’ve spent together since we met.” Bexley leans close to my ear, and whispers, “Use that voice on me when we get home, though, and I’ll give you something you’ll never forget.”
“You’re already the most unforgettable part of my life.”
“And you’re mine. Thank you for being my best friend, Tris.”
As we exit the diner, I pull her into my arms. “The best decision I ever made. I love you, Bexley. Thank you for choosing to spend your life with me.”
“You’re smart, handsome, romantic, and seriously gifted between the sheets. I’d be a fool to let you go.”
“Is that all?”
She smiles up at me. “I’d also be lost without you.”
“There’s my romantic girl—I knew she’d show up eventually.”
“Only for you, Tris.”
“Well, as the reigning champion of dating roulette, I think that’s a fitting prize.”
Bexley groans. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Are you kidding? This will make the best story for our grandkids.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too, angel. Me too.”
Thank you for reading Dating Roulette. I hope you enjoyed Tristan and Bexley’s story. If you’d like to read more about Just an Illusion, Eli Watts, and Sasha, you can find them in The Illusion Series.
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Sincerely,
Dee Kelly
D. Kelly, author of The Acceptance Series, The Illusion Series, and standalone companion novels Chasing Cassidy and Sharing Rylee, was born and raised in Southern California.
She’s a wife, mom, dog lover, taxi, problem fixer, and extreme multi-tasker. She married her high school sweetheart and is her kids’ biggest fan.
Kelly has been writing since she was young and took joy in spinning stories to her childhood friends. Margaritas and sarcasm make her smile, she loves the beach but hates the san, and she believes Starbucks makes any day better.
A contemporary romance writer, D. Kelly’s stories revolve around friendship and the bond it creates, strengthening the love of the people who share it. For all things D. Kelly, you can visit her website: http://www.dkellyauthor.com
The Acceptance Series –
Breaking Kate – Book One
Catching Kate – Book 1.5
Releasing Kate- Book Two
Loving Kate – Book Three
Christmas with the Houstons – Book Four
Standalone Novels
Chasing Cassidy
Sharing Rylee
The Evolution of Us
The Last Resort Motel – Room 13
Dating Roulette
The Illusion Series
Just an Illusion – Side A
Just an Illusion – The B Side
Just an Illusion – EP
Just an Illusion – Unplugged
Just an Illusion – Encore
Illusion Series Spinoff Novels
Interlude – Jordan’s story
Broken Beats – Darren’s story
TBA – Eli’s story coming fall 2019
http://www.dkellyauthor.com/all-books
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Just an Illusion – Side A
Amelia
Present Day – Two Years After The Tour
Stories are meant to be told. I firmly believe that, or I wouldn’t have pursued a career in writing. And yet, some stories should never be told for a variety of reasons. My story—OUR story—is on the cusp of both of those beliefs. When I first met them, it was quickly decided I would write their story. And their story is a great story, one I want to tell with all my heart and soul. One their fans truly deserve after all this time. The only problem is, in order to tell their story, I have to tell mine, too, since they’ve become so intricately entwined. I’m not sure I’m ready to share my story yet. My heart may not survive if I do.
As I release an exhausted sigh, I pause momentarily and deeply inhale the scent of the Pacific Ocean. The beautiful sunset’s reflection shines on the waves, looking like a million shimmering suns. The silence in the house is all encompassing and allows me to take a few moments to appreciate life. It’s funny how so many things can change over the course of a few years. How one person’s life can go from private to public in the blink of an eye. How easily we transition beyond our humble beginnings, instead winding up in the lap of luxury. How fate always seems to find a way to intervene.
When I started this journey, I lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in Encino, California. And now, I’m living most people’s dream. My home—well, technically it’s their home—is a beautiful beachfront house with every amenity I could have ever dreamed of. But at the end of the day, it’s just a house, and a house isn’t a home until you make it one. Even though it’s been over two years since I officially moved in, making this house my home is still a feat I haven’t quite yet mastered. If I accept this house, I have to accept the realities that come with it—realities I’m not ready to acknowledge.
Realities I should have long ago accepted.
His ultimatum tonight threw me into a tailspin. He knows he’s making me relive the best and worst days of my life. It’s not his fault; they’re his, too, and he’s waited long enough. He genuinely wants to make this a home for us, but he’s worried my heart may not completely be his.
Is it?
I love him. I’ve always loved him, but being in love with someone is different than loving them. The only way to figure it out for sure is to write THE story—his, mine, theirs, and ours.
I turn away from the window, fire up my laptop, and uncork a bottle of my favorite Pinot Grigio, filling the largest wine glass I own. It’s cool, and the alcohol warms me going down. If I’m going to do this, I need something to soothe me. Especially when I have to read his notes and pull all of Belle’s articles. I need those most of all for this story to be truly complete.
It’s just a story, Amelia, you write them all the time. It doesn’t have to be published; you’re just purging it from your system and getting it on paper. But if anyone ever got their hands on it … If they find out you finally wrote it, there’s no coming back.
Closing my eyes, I wage the internal battle with myself. He gave me a deadline; I have seventy-two hours to answer his proposal. Three days. I’m not quite sure if three days is long enough for my heart to catch up with my mind. It doesn’t matter; he’s serious this time.
The boys left and went camping, giving me time to do this, to gather myself. He was hesitant to leave me alone, knowing how hard it will be for me. Eventually, I convinced him I’d be fine. I’m not so sure now, but it doesn’t matter. It’s time to put on my big girl panties and give him an answer. Which leaves me only one thing left to do.
It’s time to write our story.
Belle’s First BAD Announcement
Three Years Ago
Slammers!
It’s your girl Belle here, and I’ve got some freaking amazing news to share with you! This girl and her best friend Mel are heading out for a night with BAD. That’s right, you heard me—Bastards and Dangerous are in town, and I’ve got a feeling I’m going to have a super scoop for you all tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed these backstage passes will shed some light on the super-secret info BAD has been teasing us all with for weeks!
Don’t forget, live today like there’s no tomorrow!
Xs and Os,
Belle
Chapter 1
The Day It All Began
“Amelia! Are you really wearing that to the BAD concert?”
Bastards and Dangerous, otherwise known as BAD, are all of the above from what I hear. I’m not a fan. I’ve got eclectic tastes in music, but they’re just a little too loud for me. Since I’m not a fan, I don’t feel the need to wear the overly obvious I’m a groupie BAD shirt Belle brought over for me. Instead, I’m wearing my best curve-hugging jeans, my favorite black Converse, and a dark blue V-neck sweater. The concert is at The Greek, an outdoor venue. Our nights have been hovering at fifty degrees all week, which is unusually cold for Southern California, especially for late August. Global warming at its finest, but I’m not going to freeze so I can fit in with the crowd.
“Yes, Belle, this is exactly what I’m wearing. Don’t like it? I’ll happily bow out and you can give my ticket to someone else,” I answer with a smug smile.
“No, it’s fine. You can come like that. I only hope they’re not offended when they meet you and you’re not supporting them,” she says while crossing her arms and giving me her best pouty face.
“I don’t know why you think we’re even going to meet them. They’re the biggest band out there right now. Besides, I highly doubt they’ll care if one person out of the millions they’ve met isn’t branded in something they make a commission off of.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I’ve already told you it’s inevitable. Thanks to my kickass job as music editor at Slammed Magazine, we’ve got great press seats. And they sent VIP backstage passes so I can interview them.”
I laugh, I can’t help it. “Belle, I love you, but their manager said ‘if they have time’ you can interview them. You know as well as I do bands don’t stick around the venue any longer than necessary. By the time we get backstage, they’ll be long gone.”
“Nope.” She pauses to slick on her lip gloss before finishing her thought. “That’s how it usually works, but not tonight. Something big is coming down the pipeline, they’re getting ready to announce something. Everyone is talking about it. Slammed is the biggest entertainment magazine on
the market and they want us there. They’ve never had someone hand deliver backstage passes to us before. That’s why I took them instead of giving them to some rookie reporter. And that’s why I want you there, too. Since you’re an author, you can help me craft an amazing story.”
“One book, Belle. I’ve got one book out. Using the word author is reaching a bit.” She has way too much faith in me.
“Amelia Greyson! Stop belittling yourself. You may only have one book out, but I know you have at least ten more on your computer you don’t think are good enough to publish. Your one book has been number one on the New York Times bestseller list for the last three weeks! That’s huge! It’s author status at its finest. You need to be proud of your accomplishment, I know I am. I tell everyone I can about my best friend the author.”
Belle is beaming, her smile is as wide as I’ve ever seen it, and I know she’s right. It is huge for me; it’s a dream come true. But it could also be a fluke, so I’m not planning on moving out of my cozy one-bedroom apartment anytime soon.
“Alright, we’re wasting time being sentimental. Let’s get out of here and go meet your BAD boys.”
She giggles. “I’m hoping I can get one of them to be bad with me tonight!” We both burst into laughter and head down to the limo; at least Slammed sends their staff out to events in style.
Once we’re settled in our seats at the venue, Belle is bouncing around like an excited teenager, but then again, so is almost everyone else here. Thankfully, we’re in the press section, so it’s not teeming with overly excited fans. The people in this section at least pretend to tone it down a bit … that is, until the show starts.
The opening act was good, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what they said their name was. I’ll have to ask Belle later. She’s having a blast, just like everyone else. I’m trying to act excited for her sake, but it’s hard to feign excitement for a band you don’t really like.