“I know the ring isn’t much, but if you don’t mind waiting, someday it will be more.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t care about the size of the ring. She wanted to scream the word yes before any question was even asked, but she couldn’t do anything other than nod and try to control the trembling.

“No matter where I go,” he said, and she noticed the tremor in his voice, “you will always be my home. Tell me I can always be your home, too. Be my wife, Maggie.”

Griffin slid the deck toward her.

“Full deck,” he said. “All in…always.”

She was on her knees now, crawling around the coffee table to kneel in front of him. She raised a hand to his face and swiped away the tear that lay on his cheek. She was doing that nodding thing again, unable to find her voice, and Griffin started to laugh.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, taking the ring from her palm and sliding it onto her finger.

She laughed now, too. “Yes.” She kissed him. “Yes.” He kissed her back. “Yes.”

Jordan

Jordan looked from Noah, to Elvis, and back to Noah again.

“You sure?” he asked. “Your family’s going to be pissed.”

She laughed and nodded.

“They don’t have to know,” she said. “This is just for us, right? We changed the date so Duncan and Elaina could make it. Technically, we’d have already been married by now.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I guess you can’t argue with technically.”

She beamed at him. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

“You as well,” he said.

Actually, they looked ridiculous, but that was part of the fun, right? Jordan in her blue sweatshirt that read Groom and Noah in the white one that read Bride. After all, she needed her something new, borrowed, and blue. The old was the Aberdeen T-shirt she wore underneath, a reminder of where and how they began.

She had suggested the Vegas idea as a joke, but you know what they say. In every joke there is a sprinkling of truth, and truth be told, Jordan wanted to marry Noah Keating today—and again in the summer. So when she opened her Christmas card from him, one that read, “This might be another proposal,” she’d tackled him to the floor with kisses and a resounding YES.

But this wedding would be just for them. Them and Elvis.

The musical trio began the first few bars of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” their cue to make their way toward the man in the bedazzled white jumpsuit who would pronounce them husband and wife.

Jordan linked her arm in Noah’s, and they took their first step. Together. And when she tripped on her shoelace, they promptly fell. Together.

“Quick check for injuries,” Noah said. He patted himself down. “All clear.”

Jordan rubbed the elbow that broke her fall but echoed his answer just the same. “All clear,” she said. “It’s a good sign, right?”

Noah kissed her and then helped her up.

“I’d be worried if this went off without a hitch,” he said and chuckled. “Now I’m sure we’re making the right decision.”

Jordan swatted him on the shoulder. “You weren’t sure before?”

He grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

“Eyes on the polyester, Brooks.”

They took another step. She nodded.

“Eyes on the polyester.”

They weren’t Beatrice and Benedick or Lizzie and Darcy or Lucy and George. They weren’t anything like the stories she’d read and loved for so many years. They were Brooks and Noah, and their tale was still just beginning. But Jordan knew, even before getting to the end—this would be her favorite story of all.

Miles

“Good night, Professor Parker. Do remember it’s a holiday.”

“Good night,” he echoed, then hit the end button on his phone. On the one hand, Miles was thrilled to hear from Professor Norton, the head of the psychology department. They’d be taking him on full-time next year. On the other hand, it was nine thirty on New Year’s Eve, and he was in his office with nothing but twenty-two ungraded term papers to celebrate with.

A soft knock sounded on the door, and he groaned. Miles thought he was the only one in the building. God, what if it was one of his no-shows from his office hours before the holiday break? That’s just what he wanted to do, argue grades with some irresponsible freshman who couldn’t be bothered to keep an appointment.

He pushed himself up from his chair and rubbed at his burning eyes.

“No office hours without an appoint—” he started, but when he opened the door, he found no student waiting for him. Instead, there stood Alex with a large shopping bag. Steam rose from the top of said bag, and Miles salivated at the escaping aroma. Lemon, garlic, spinach—he could feel the flakes of phyllo dough melting on his tongue.

“I thought you were working tonight.”

Then again, Miles couldn’t keep their schedules straight. As a first-year adjunct at NYU, he’d earned the shittiest schedule along with the shittiest office. But he was a professor of psychology at a university. And that? That wasn’t shitty at all.

Alex backed him inside. “I am,” he said. “Taking care of the deliveries tonight.”

Miles fell back into one of the two student chairs in front of his desk, and Alex took the one next to him, promptly emptying the bag onto a spot he cleared for the goods.

Miles blinked and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “But you don’t do deliveries.”

Alex stopped what he was doing and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, kissing him until all the other questions melted away.

“I missed you,” he whispered against him. “So I snuck away for an hour. I’ve got everything under control.”

Miles sunk back into his chair and let out a sigh. Alex had worked Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. He’d worked nearly every holiday since Miles had moved to New York in June. But somehow they were making it work.

Alex opened a container of egg lemon soup and handed it to Miles with a spoon. He grabbed it greedily, finally aware of his hunger.

“Where’s my spanakopita?” he asked, the spoon still in his mouth.

Alex laughed and opened another container. “So demanding.”

It was moments like these that made it work. And Alex crawling into his bed each night, his arms wrapped around Miles each morning.

Moments like this—and food—and trust. Miles was still new to that last one, but it was growing on him every day.

“Happy New Year, Miles,” Alex said and kissed him again.

The happiest, Miles thought.

Alex pinched another of his savory pastries between his fingers and held it to Miles’s lips. “More?” he asked.

Miles smiled and licked his kiss-swollen lips.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Did you love this Embrace? Check out more of our new adult titles here!

And for exclusive sneak peeks at our upcoming books, excerpts, contests, chats with our authors and editors, and more…

Sign up for our Newsletter

Be sure to like us on Facebook

Follow us on Twitter

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my agent, Courtney Miller-Callihan. I told you I wanted to write an ensemble romance from seven different points of view, and you believed that I could pull it off. To my amazing editor, Karen Grove, you had enough faith to let me try this crazy idea, and then you helped make it all pretty and sparkly. I’m so grateful to get to work with you.

My books wouldn’t happen without my wonderful critique partners. Natalie Blitt, Megan Erickson, Lia Riley, and Jennifer Blackwood, you all complete me. Also, Miles and Alex especially appreciate your help in their scenes.