When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

get married, right under his good looks, pity, and financial and criminal trouble. “My brother Daniel is also a doctor, so we can get you in fast and with some of the best if you don’t already have a preferred ortho.”

She smiled, tentative and shy, but Will could sense the tension around her fading, an almost nervous energy radiating from her in its place. “Should we have some ground rules?”

Will’s heart pounded in his chest, in his ears, and at the base of his wrist. Hannah had agreed to marry him in not so many words. He hoped she couldn’t see the sweat beading at his temples or the excitement oozing out of every pore. He never dreamed she would agree. Well, maybe dreamed. He pulled his thoughts back to Hannah’s actual question. Ground rules for marriage—how romantic. “Whatever you want, Abbott.”

Chapter 8Hannah

Ground Rules for Our Marriage:

We will remain married for one year.

We won’t be assholes about money should we get divorced.

We may not date other people.

Binx is allowed to sleep in the bedroom.

Our friendship is the most important thing.

Sometimes college seemed like ages ago, another life, or a different track that couldn’t possibly have ended up here. But then Hannah would make some joke that only Kate would get because it had to do with that one night at that one party with that one guy, and it felt present again. They’d aged out, not grown up. Sitting back in her apartment with Will, debating ground rules for their made-up marriage, she felt on the cusp of going both backward and forward. He sat contentedly on her couch, alternating between petting Binx and flipping through pages of Netflix suggestions. Simple actions, really, but Brian could never—would never—sit with Binx or scratch his ears. Binx didn’t purr often when other people were around, but he purred now, loud and deep.

She tapped her pen against the list. Five things. That couldn’t be all there was to a marriage.

“The list is fine,” he said. Hannah heard the opening chords of Netflix’s creepy new show. “It’s not like we’re signing anything into law. We can always amend it.”

“Yeah, but I have a more rigorous list of requirements for the pet sitter.” She put the pen down and noticed little blue spots dotting her palm.

“Well, Binx is a hard-ass.” Will ran his hand down Binx’s spine, causing the cat to arch his back.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Clearly.”

“I’m sure we could come up with a whole page of things to add to that if we really tried. But I do think it’s this simple. We’ll be married for at least a year—enough time to get me my board seat and secure it with a whole slate of meetings, long enough that we can handle anything that comes up regarding your knee, and long enough that no one will question the validity of the marriage. Neither of us will be a jerk, and we’ll just find our own way. I’m pretty sure most people who get married don’t have a list of rules.”

“Yes, but they’ve usually been in a relationship for a while.”

“We were best friends for three years. We basically lived together for a semester senior year.”

“Will.”

“Fine.” He picked up the pen and pulled the paper toward him.

Hannah watched him scribble a few things, growing more incredulous by the letter. He couldn’t be serious. But he was, because he was Will.

Ground Rules for Our Marriage:

We will remain married for one year.

We can choose to stay married for an as yet undecided period at that time.

We won’t be assholes about money should we get divorced.

What’s yours is yours and what’s mine is mine.

We may not date other people.

We can choose to date each other.

Binx is allowed to sleep in the bedroom.

In a cat bed.

Our friendship is the most important thing.

No matter what, we stay friends.

Hannah looked up from the list. “How does that make it any better?”

“It gives us options. And an out—‘no matter what, we stay friends.’” He gently turned her palm into his. “You might love being married to me, Abbott.”

“Doubtful,” she said. “I remember what it was like to live with you—boxers mixed in with my clothes and your socks hanging off the television and the Christmas tree!”

“I promise I put my socks in the hamper now,” he said with a grin.

She met his gaze, allowing herself to get lost in it for a moment, recalling all those long-ago feelings to the surface. He was still the boy she’d loved—older and a bit more broken, but so was she. “Let’s get married.”

His expression softened, though he clearly had questions. Hannah wondered if he was afraid to break the silence until his hand cupped hers. “Why?”

“Because you’re sweet and I want to help you.”

Pink spots formed on Will’s cheeks, and she knew she’d convinced him.

“I’ve missed you, Will Thorne.”

He smiled his real smile—the one she’d been waiting to see since he’d shown up at her door. He closed his fingers around hers and pulled them both to their feet.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he led her behind the couch.

He didn’t respond except to grin wider. Then after a quick search around the space, he found what he was looking for—the dimmer switch. The room fell into a golden hue of sunset lighting. He returned to her, dropping down to one knee.

“What are you doing?” she whispered again.

“Giving you a proper proposal.” He took the ring out of his pocket and held it out to her. “Hannah...”

Hannah held her breath, waiting for the words every girl dreamed of hearing one day, but Will seemed frozen.

“I don’t know your middle name,” he said with a small, uncomfortable laugh.

“Guess we should’ve made profiles instead of rules.” She waited a few extra beats before revealing the answer. “It’s Grace.”

“Hannah Grace Abbott.” He put extra emphasis on her middle name, and for once, she liked it. Her parents had cursed her