"Doesn't he look great, everyone?" Hannah says into the microphone.
This is the recognition I wanted, but it feels wrong now that I'm receiving it. So what if I grew up and lost some weight? Apparently the lesson I needed to learn tonight was I don't give a shit what people think about me anymore.
"Theo won a two-night stay here, complete with a spa and dining credit. Thank you, L'Auberge, for hosting our reunion. Anything you'd like to say, Theo?" Hannah asks.
I'm caught by surprise, and the one thing that comes to mind is, "Thanks, this is an awesome gift. Might need a room tonight, if you know what I mean."
"Do not disturb! Yeah baby!" Jeff shouts, like he's Austin Powers.
Everyone erupts into laughter.
"Speaking of, get that girlfriend of yours over here for a photo," Hannah suggests.
Amelia looks as though we hired her to do a strip show for the graduating class. She waves her hands and shakes her head but Jeff gently shoves her forward.
"Smile," Jeff demands.
I wrap my arm around her waist and she does the same. We smile together as I hold up the envelope.
"Kiss her!" someone yells from the crowd, and I know right away it was Seth.
"Mother…fucker…" Amelia grits through her fake smile.
"Kiss her, man," Jeff urges.
This exact moment was what Amelia was afraid of. That my stupid friends would still be as immature as they were when we were teenagers. Without giving it a second thought, I dip her low and leave a fleeting kiss on her lips. The gesture itself was more passionate than the kiss.
The crowd applauds and cheers, and our kiss is over as quickly as it started.
Amelia looks shell-shocked as we escape off the stage.
I walk past Beckett, and his eyes follow my movement. My eyebrows dance up and down as I smile at him. He looks like he wants to throw a punch.
When I reach Amelia, she says, "Okay, while this was fun and all, can we get going?"
"Yeah, whenever you want."
Why isn't she berating me for breaking the kissing rule?
"I need to collect myself and use the restroom. Meet me at the bar in five?"
"Sure." I put the envelope in my pocket and take a seat on one of the empty barstools.
Before my ass even hits the chair, Beckett approaches me with a furious scowl on his pink face.
"You're not taking Amelia into one of these hotel rooms."
"Where's your mistress?" I ask. "I'm sorry, I mean girlfriend?"
"Fiancée," Beckett snaps.
"That's right, fiancée. It'd be a shame if she found out what kind of person you really are."
"Scarlet wouldn't believe you. Just like I don't believe you and Amelia are romantically involved."
"Beckett, I don't give a shit what you believe."
Technically, Beckett has a height advantage on me since I'm sitting down. But I correct that when I get up from the chair. I have three to four inches now that we are parallel and loom over him like a threat.
