"That's enough of that shit," I said. "Donotfucking lecture her."
"It's fine, it's fine," Erin said. "Sorry about this, Riley."
"I hate everyone," he grumbled, shaking his head as he turned to leave. "And weddings. I really hate weddings."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Erin
"This isthe most entertaining wedding I've ever seen," I said, nudging Nick as I spoke. I felt him nodding in agreement. Of course he agreed. Sam was wearing a red velvet tuxedo that looked vintage, but I knew he didn't go for used clothing. The likely scenario was that Sam had spent an ungodly amount of money on a designer tux that only looked vintage.
"How many weddings have you been to, Skip?"
We were watching the ceremony from the back fringe of the crowd, far enough out of the way that we could comment on the events without being disruptive.
"Just Matt and Lauren's." Aware that my tights were torn at the crotch and my panties were damp, I added, "And ours."
Nick glanced down at me, smiling. "This guy," Nick said, tipping his chin toward the officiant. He was colorful in dress and character, and that was putting it mildly. "Top hat, feather boa, sunglasses at night. He might give Bartlett a run for his money."
"Not a chance," I said as Sam promised to always chase Tiel's rogue olives. "Three cheers for the inside-joke-themed marriage vows. Didn't think that would fly, but these two are making it work."
"That's their thing," he said. "They make things work, even when it's difficult."
"What's our thing?" I asked.
He laughed, and draped his arm over my shoulders as he kissed my hair. "We make things work when they're really fucking impossible."
The ceremony concluded with a lengthy kiss, and then the band kicked off a happy, folksy tune that had Tiel wiggling in Sam's arms. They were visibly, palpably in love, and I couldn't help but smile for them. They moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and agreeing that they'd pulled off an incredible surprise. Nick and I probably seemed oddly blasé about it all, as we'd long known about the secret purpose of this holiday soiree.
The happy couple made their way toward me and Nick, and though I expected a morsel of curiosity—even a small one—at our apparent familiarity, Sam and Tiel had other things on their minds. It made me want to draw my fingers over the edge of Nick's belt, or maybe dip them into the space between his shirt and trousers. Just to see what would happen.
Sam scooped me up in a hug, bringing me clear off my feet. "You're here," he cried. "I'm so glad you could make it. Thank you for this, thank you so much. I needed all of you guys here tonight." He set me down and clapped his hand against my back before turning back to his wife. "Tiel, this is Erin."
She brushed a strand of dark hair over her ear and smiled at me. There was a touch of sympathy in her smile, and it was clear that she'd heard all about me. Not that I could blame Sam, or whoever had read her in on the dirty details. It didn't matter how far I ran, or how long I stayed away, because I'd never shake free from that shit. No fresh starts, not for me, not for anyone.
"Tiel, it's wonderful to meet you," I said, swallowing an exasperated sigh and reaching deep to find an authentic smile. This lady seemed like a whole lot of fun, my brother loved her, and it didn't matter whether she knew about my time in the psych ward, or me fucking my thirty-two-year-old English teacher when I was in high school. Didn't matter. Not a bit. Not at all.Not at all. "Thank you for inviting me."
"Of course we invited you," she replied, snort-laughing and not even trying to cover it up. I admired that. "I wish we had some time to grab coffee or something, but we leave for our honeymoon"—she glanced at Sam—"destination unknown, tomorrow afternoon."
"It's all good," I said. "I'm meeting up with a friend while I'm in town. I'm sure I'll be back, we'll get that coffee then."
And thatfriendhappens to be standing right next to me.
"Even the good doctor made it out for an evening," Sam said, clapping Nick on the back as they exchanged a man-hug. "We haven't seen much of you lately."
"I've been busy," Nick said coolly. He brought his hand to his hip, positioning it there as if he was proving a point. His elbow bumped my upper arm, and it stayed there, pressing into my skin and asserting something that Sam didn't choose to see.
Sam blinked expectantly, waiting for more information, but Nick offered none. I turned my attention downward, hoping I could school my expression if I was staring at my shoes.
"Right, right," Sam said, nodding. "Well, it's good to see you." His stare pinged between us, happy and ignorant. "Both of you."
"Do you think anyone's noticed?" Nick's gaze swept over the crowd after Sam and Tiel moved on to greet other guests. I knew what he was feeling. He wanted someone—anyone—to notice that we were standing here, too close for casual acquaintances, too close for polite company, even too close for friends.
"Are you hoping that they will?" I asked.
"Fuck yes, I am," he said.
"They're not concerned with us," I said, laughing. "Shannon's only looking at Will, Sam's preoccupied with being married, Riley's busy entertaining himself with that kilt, Matt's a little drunk and trying to be covert about grabbing Lauren's boobs, and Patrick's staring at Andy's ass. It's funny, though, because everyone was so worried that I was going to be a twatwaffle. Unless I'm running around naked or sucking whiskey off the bartender's Adam's apple, they're not noticing."
