Mia
I can't help myself. I'm a perfectionist. Everything needs to be perfect. I usually don't mind if some things are not going accordingly but this is an event in our new house. Nate and I thought it would be cute to host our engagement party on Valentines Day. But we didn't want to take up people's time in case some couples had other plans. So we agreed on a brunch which is perfect because I fucking love brunch.
We didn't want to decorate too much so we just did flowers and balloons. Jules and I helped the florists set up where we wanted our flower backdrop and other arrangements around the island where all the food will be set. We have balloon garlands and a bunch of other balloon bouquets because you could never have too many balloons. They make everything so damn perfect. We went with white, gold, and an emerald green colour for everything. I have an hour before guests start coming and so far all I have accomplished is setting my outfit on my bed.
Nate is having a nap with Theo cuddled up right next to him, napping...imagine that, a nap right now. He had practice early in the morning so he asked me to wake him up half an hour before the guests arrive. That's all he needs, half an hour to throw on his suit and walk out the room and somehow he still manages to look astonishingly handsome.
I start with my hair choosing to do some twists and braids and put it up in a low bun. I do quick work of adding some makeup to my look, Nate always says he prefers me without. But sometimes it feels good to put some on. When I'm done with that I go back to my bed to put on my dress. Nate bought this for me and surprised me with it last week. He said it was an early Valentine's Day gift. I was shocked he knows me so well. He got me a cream-colored blazer dress and these new Valentino heels to go with them that are black with laces that go a bit up my ankle. As I'm putting on my heels Nate rolls over to face me with his sleepy eyes and bed head.
"Hey baby, what time is it?" He mumbles into the side of the pillow.
"Time for you to get ready, sleepyhead," I finish putting on my heels and turn my head to face him, running my hand through his hair. He grabs my hand and kisses it as he goes to sit up against the headboard.
"You always leave me speechless with how beautiful you are," he says to me, throwing the covers off of him and heading for the washroom buck ass naked. You would think after all these years I get used to him sleeping naked, but I think his ass is just so perfect and I can't stop myself from staring. Especially when it reminds me how I love to sink my nails into it when he pounds into me. He catches me staring and smirks disappearing into the washroom.
I head downstairs to make sure everything is set before everyone starts arriving when the doorbell rings. Damn. Nate isn't ready yet. I go to open the door to find Ricky standing there with a small duffel bag.
"Ricky!" I engulf him in a huge hug. I haven't seen him in so long. Since Canada Day I think.
"Mia!" He returns the hug with the same enthusiasm. "What's up kid?" He says as we head inside the house so I can show him his guest room. Nate asked if he wanted to say here instead of a hotel and he accepted.
"I'm not that much younger than you Ricky," I tell him laughing at the nickname he's given me.
"Wow, you guys got yourselves to quit the crib here. It's beautiful," he says to me as we walk up the stairs.
"Isn't it? When Nate said we didn't get the house so he could surprise me for Christmas I almost cried myself to sleep, but I would never tell Nate that so shh," I tell him as he drops his bags in his temporary room.
"Tell Nate what?" Nate appears at the door of the room and my breath hitches. Holy shit. I get to marry that? Me? Mia Evans? I get to marry this man who looks so frickin hot in his navy suit. The brown shoes and belt all add to how well put together he looks. And of course he has his chain on his neck. Games and special occasions so his mom never misses out. That's what he told me when I asked why he doesn't wear it all the time.
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Tripping
RomanceTripping: the act of placing a stick, knee, foot, arm, hand or elbow in such a manner that causes his opponent to lose balance or fall. You can either trip a player or get tripped. I got tripped and ruined a player's career. Now I feel like I kee...
