The second the words left my mouth, I knew it was a mistake.
Not of the proposal itself…I meant it, but the timing.
I had completely overwhelmed him. The panic in Eli's eyes before he threw up all over himself. Who the hell asks someone to marry them when they're completely wasted? Now he was a total wreck, and it was entirely my fault.
By the time I pulled into the mansion's driveway, Eli was out cold.
Completely dead to the world, head slumped heavy against the passenger window. His breath was slow and foggy, his cheeks were flushed pink from the liquor.
He looked peaceful, which felt like an insult to the chaos he'd just ignited in my life again.
I stared at him, my hands tightened on the wheel. Then I looked away, swearing under my breath. I should've kept my mouth shut. Not tonight. Not when he could barely keep his eyes open, and he looked defenseless.
But my eyes kept drifting back to him anyway.
