“Is there another team?” I ask, but she’s already turned and is jogging up the stairs to Sienna’s room.
I follow her, take a deep breath outside the door, and reach for the handle.
ELEVEN
Sienna
I’ve never felt morenervous in my entire life.
My palms won’t stop sweating. My stomach is a tight, fluttery mess. My knees are jelly, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to faint, vomit, or spontaneously combust in the next five minutes.
Possibly all three.
It’s my wedding day.
Myfakewedding day.
Except it doesn’t feel fake. Not after last night. Not after the way Heath touched me, the way he looked at me. The way he whispered my name like it was a prayer and a promise.
I’m screwed. So unbelievably screwed. I don’t know how to pretend this is just a deal anymore. I don’t know how to be near him without wanting things I shouldn’t want.
I swallow hard and stare at myself in the mirror, nerves trembling through me.
My mom’s dress is heavier than I remember. Satin and lace, all vintage romance and soft ivory dreams. My grandma kept itperfectly preserved after my mom passed. I remember pulling the box down from the closet the week after she died, touching the gown like it was holy.
And now I’m wearing it.
Instead of joy, a pang of melancholy settles in my heart—bittersweet and sharp.
“I wish you were here,” I whisper, voice thick. “Both of you. All of you.”
I smooth my hands over the bodice and reach for the tiny pearl shoes tucked in the box beside the dress. A lump rises in my throat as I slide them on. They’re snug, but they fit, like they were waiting for me.
Like this moment was always meant to be mine.
Jem sniffles behind me. “You look like a fairy-tale princess.”
I smile weakly at her reflection, clutching the bouquet she arranged for me, white roses and pine, little sprigs of red berries tucked in like tiny Christmas secrets. “Thank you.”
“It’s going to be perfect.” Jem adjusts my veil even though I told her twelve times not to touch it. “And hey, if any of his family gives you trouble, I’ll trip them during the vows. Blood doesn’t stain lace too badly.”
A shaky laugh escapes me. “You’re terrifying.”
“I love you,” she replies sweetly.
Before I can answer, the bedroom door creaks open. I spin, eyes widening when I see broad shoulders, a dark suit, and familiar green eyes stepping inside.
“Heath!” I squeak, rushing to block his view like I can physically stop him. “You can’t be in here!”
He doesn’t even pretend to stop. He just keeps walking toward me like a man possessed. “I can see you whenever the hell I want to,” he rumbles.
My pulse does a stupid little flip. “That’s not how weddings work. You’re not supposed to see me.”
His gaze sweeps me head to toe and back again, slow enough I feel my skin heat beneath it. His Adam’s apple bobs. “Too late.”
I don’t breathe. I don’t blink. The world narrows to his eyes and the promise in them—something hot, fierce, and unguarded.
“You changed your mind?” I whisper, terrified to hear the answer. “About the wedding?”
