Winning Her Back

Chapter Seventeen

I absentmindedly walked off the plane and into JFK airport, making my way to baggage claim. After picking up my single hot pink suitcase and tightening the grip I had on my Louis Vuitton purse, I searched around for my best friend's face. 

Before I could spot her, Willow's body lunged at me, tackling me to the floor. 

"It's you!" She squealed before I could even process it was her. We were in the middle of the airport, lying on the dirty floor, her body on mine. The uncomfortable stares from on goers made this position all the more, well, uncomfortable. 

"Willow Ryder, get the hell off of me." I sternly said, pushing her up. 

"S-sorry" She said, in between laughter, hosting herself up. 

Once we were both stable on the ground, I took a good look at my best friend. "Hey Will." I sheepishly said. 

"Hey Tate." It didn't take another second for her to pull me into a hug. "Oh, I've missed you." She admitted quietly into my hair. 

After pulling apart, we made our way to the parking lot. I followed Willow, like a lost puppy, waiting for her to step into one of the many cars in the lot. When she stepped to the drivers side of a G class Mercedes, my jaw dropped. 

"This is your car?" She nodded, smirking a bit. "But, I mean you would get my dream car. Cosmo must really pay well?" Again, she nodded.

Willow had changed her original major to graphic design and communications. When she graduated from Albany, she had immediately gotten a job at Cosmopolitan, since she interned there all 4 years of college. Not only did she decide the layout for every issue, but also got to interview some celebrities and wrote a lot for the magazine.

For the past half hour, as we waiting in New York City traffic, Willow and I were playing I spy. We only had a few minutes until we pulled up to the restaurant, but it was my turn. I didn't know what to pick because all of my surroundings were already used. Trees, steering wheel, sunglasses, my flip flops, Willow's ripped jeans. As I averted my gaze, trying to find my next item, a sparkle caught my eye. Turning my head towards the steering wheel, I gasped at the diamond occupying Willow's fourth finger on her left hand. 

"What the hell is that?" I gasped. Willow slightly turned her head to me, taking her eyes off the road to see my bewildered expression. When she turned back, I saw her glance at the ring on her finger. "Are you engaged?" I screeched. 

"Ok, pretend you didn't see that." She nervously said. 

"What do you mean 'pretend you didn't see that?' How can you not see that!?" 

Willow giggled, a blush tinting her cheeks. "Tatum, why do you think I needed you to come home? Yes, I'm engaged. Zach proposed a few weeks ago, but I wanted to keep it a secret until you came, so I could tell you face to face. But, for the sake of this lunch, I need you to forget about this coversation." I sighed, wanting her to tell me all about the engagement and also scold her for not telling me earlier, but dropped the subject anyway. 

Willow pulled up to curb, across the street from a classy restaurant. Cosmo pays really well. 

"Just don't be mad," Willow said, as she hooked her arm with mine and pulled me into the restaurant. 

"About the engagement? I'm not mad, I promise," I assured her, as she told the hostess the reservation name.

"No, just promise me you won't freak out about... something else" She hesitantly begged.

"What do you-"  I abruptly stopped. "Willow," I practically growled.

"Tatum," Willow said, in a warning voice. "Please don't." She begged, urging me to continue to the table.