Stripped Love (Guys Next Door #1) - Baylin Crow Page 0,83

Of the twins, I was shocked when Archer told me it was Caleb of all people who'd met a girl he followed around like a lost puppy. She must be a saint to put up with him.

Fishing my phone from my pocket, I glance at the time. Five minutes until I'm due on stage, and there's still no Archer.

Damon shifts next to me. "He'll be here on time, right?"

"I sure as shit hope so." Otherwise I'd have to improvise on the spot or walk away with my head hung in defeat. Not that it would stop me from hunting him down and proposing in the middle of the street if I had to. This was happening tonight. One way or another.

I search the crowded room again, trying to spot the head full of messy dark auburn curls I love to tangle my fingers through. There's still no trace of him, and I let loose a shaky breath.

After technically sharing a dorm with CJ for the first year we were together—though he stayed at my place almost every night—we'd made things official and moved his things that hadn't already taken up half of my closet and drawer space. We still lived next door to Isaac, which I'm not going to lie, sucks sometimes. He never lets me live down how much I'm wrapped around Archer's little finger. But it's true, so I can't ever argue the point. Much to his amusement.

Recently graduated from college, he still helps Isaac at the shop while he continues to pursue his publishing dream. In the meantime, he's become an indie author and his books do sell. I'm always his first customer and his books sit on the shelf, signed since I'm proud as shit of the author. I'm not sure what they'll be worth one day to someone else. But it doesn't matter. To me, they're priceless. I've seen the blood, sweat and tears he puts into those books, especially when he's down to a deadline.

Tonight, Isaac left Archer at the parlor with instructions to close early and meet him here at nine to discuss an issue with the shop.

I couldn't have him show up early. My nerves were shot and I knew I needed the hours to gather myself and my words, even though I'd practiced them dozens of times. Now, as I wait for him to show his beautiful face, I'm second guessing that idea.

A man brushes past me, and my gaze shoots to the owner who climbs on stage and leans down to speak through the microphone. He smiles and the room begins to silence. "Please welcome Phoenix Ryan to the stage."

Fuck. I groan under my breath as the clock has run out.

A round of clapping fills the room as Damon gives me a small shove to get me moving.

"Break a leg," Damon says and then heads off to join our crew.

With my heart racing in my chest, I join the owner beneath the glowing spotlight. He claps a hand on my shoulder. "Good luck."

I stand behind the mic, without a decision made on my next move. Even my friends and family have started to appear worried. Just as acceptance and disappointment sinks in my gut, the door opens and I watch as my boyfriend steps through the door. My heart races for a new reason. I'm actually doing this.

Now that it's really happening, my veins pulse in a frantic rhythm. Archer scans the packed room, skimming right over me before his head whips back around. We lock eyes, and the murmuring crowd is forgotten. His rich brown orbs shine with confusion and his brow dips as he takes in the scene before him.

Isaac must have spotted his nephew because he meets him at the door and leads him to their table. The whole time Archer never looks away from me and I watch him right back as he pulls out the chair facing me. He glances away for a moment, and I see his lips moving. Isaac leans in. I don't know what he says, but Archer returns his attention back on me. I give him a crooked grin, and he frowns. Not the reaction I was hoping for, and I can only hope it doesn't reflect his reaction once I pour my soul all over the platform.

The crowd has waited long enough—not that I care about anything other than my boyfriend at the moment—so I sit on the stool and adjust the microphone before settling the guitar in my lap.