The next morning, I was at my desk, trying everything possible to focus on my work when my phone buzzed.
Ethan Reynolds.
I nearly choked on my coffee.
No. Absolutely not. This can’t real.
I stared hard at the screen as if I could change the words that were displayed on it before I answered
“Marry me.”
I froze.
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Wait a second, did he just ...?
My fingers tightened around my phone, almost snapping it in half. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”
Silence. Then, with his usual maddening calm:
“I said, marry me.”
My chair screeched as I bolted upright. “M-Marry—” I choked, knocking my coffee dangerously close to my laptop.
Connor, my coworker, peeked over the cubicle. “Harper, you good?”
I let out a maniacal laugh. “Sure am! why do you ask?” I flashed him a sha
