My Player Bestfriend (Book #1)

Chapter Twenty Seven

I woke up on my eighteenth birthday to the sound of birds, sunshine warming my face, and a text from Austin that read:

"No plans today. I've got everything covered. Just be ready by six. Dress cute. No pressure. ;)"

I laughed at the last part.

"No pressure," coming from the boy who once dyed his hair bleach blonde just because I said I liked 2000s boy bands? Yeah. Sure.

But I felt giddy in the best way — like something good was going to happen, and I didn't need to brace for the fall. Just float.

When I stepped outside that night, it was like stepping into a dream.

Twinkle lights draped from every tree and wrapped around the fence like fireflies frozen in time. The pool shimmered in soft blues, floating candles dancing on the surface. A playlist of songs I loved — some that only Austin would've remembered — drifted through hidden speakers.

There were people. Smiling, familiar faces — Alex, Sarah, Jackie, even Zach and Robert. Everyone had showed up.

And Austin was standing near the back, by the pool, in a soft white tee and black jeans, looking like every version of the boy I fell in love with... and the man he was becoming.

His eyes found mine immediately.

He smiled. That slow, crooked smile that undid every wall I ever tried to build.

"You came," he said, even though he'd been the one to plan the entire night.

I smiled. "You told me to dress cute."

"You always do."

The party was perfect — warm and light and full of people who loved me. They sang the worst rendition of "Happy Birthday" known to mankind, and I laughed so hard I almost cried. I took pictures with everyone, danced barefoot on the grass, ate too much cake, and kissed Austin more than once when no one was looking.

But somewhere after the candles and before everyone started winding down, Austin disappeared for a moment.

I found him near the back of the yard, under the tree where we'd once talked for hours after a fight. There were even more lights there, glinting softly against something in his hand.

He looked nervous. Austin never looked nervous.

He took a deep breath when I walked up to him. "Hey."

"Hey," I said, giving him a curious smile. "What are you—"

"Wait." He cleared his throat, stepping forward.

The music faded. The chatter slowed behind us.

Everyone turned.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a laugh catching in my throat.

And then he dropped to one knee.

The entire world stopped moving.

His hands were shaking, just slightly, as he opened the velvet box.

Inside was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen — delicate, vintage gold with a small oval diamond in the center, surrounded by the tiniest sapphires like stars.

He looked up at me, eyes full of so many things — fear, love, hope, forever.

"I've known for a long time that you're it for me," he said, voice a little rough. "We've been through hell, Mary. We've broken each other, healed each other. And somehow, you're still the only person I want beside me when I wake up. When I'm old. When everything else falls apart."

I felt the tears before I could stop them.

He smiled, soft and certain. "You don't have to say yes now. We don't have to rush. But I want you to know I'm all in. Always. So if you're ready—"

He paused, eyes locked with mine.

"Will you marry me?"

I didn't even hesitate.

I dropped to my knees with him, laughing and crying at the same time as I whispered, "Yes. Yes, of course."

The entire backyard exploded into cheers and screams.

But all I heard was him.

All I felt was this—his arms wrapping around me, the ring slipping onto my finger, the kiss that sealed something deeper than a promise.

A forever.

And for the first time in a long time, I believed in it.