Chapter One
I didn’t want to be myself tonight.
As I smoothed down my bridesmaid gown, I looked at the crowd milling around me. My skin felt as though it didn’t fit, as though something inside me was clawing to get out.
Actually, I did want to be me, but I wanted to be less of my usual responsible, tranquil self. I wanted to drink too much, eat too much, laugh too loudly, and kick off my shoes and dance until I was exhausted. I wanted to exist authentically for a night without worrying about the potential consequences.
What better time to cut loose than my best friend’s wedding day?
The newlyweds had their first dance, dinner had been consumed, the cake cut and served, and all that was left was the bouquet and garter toss. I fully intended to be far away from the dance floor when those occurred. I wanted to meet someone I could love and possibly get married, but I didn’t want to deal with the attention that came with the bouquet toss, especially if I caught it.
There was a tap on my shoulder, distracting me from my plans to hide before the singles awareness tradition.
I turned to face Marcus Flynn. My friend, Lucy, interned for him during college. He was a famous photographer and gorgeous. If he didn’t act just like an overprotective brother, I would have had a screaming crush on him. Then again, maybe not, because he was always with Elijah. He introduced him as his friend, but they were always together when I saw them. It was none of my business, but I wondered if they were in a relationship. And if they were, why weren’t they open about it?
God, I didn’t know why I cared, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering.
Elijah was standing next to him as usual, a wide smile on his face and his bright blue eyes twinkling.
“Hi, Marcus. Hi, Elijah,” I greeted them.
“You look gorgeous,” Marcus said, leaning down to kiss my cheek.
“You both look handsome, too,” I replied.
Elijah stepped in front of me when Marcus released me and pulled me into a hug. His body was warm and hard, and I sighed to myself. It really was too bad because Elijah was even more gorgeous than Marcus.
“Hi, Grier,” he said, brushing his lips over my cheek.
“Hey.”
Someone called Marcus’s name. He glanced at Elijah. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that, he disappeared in the crowd heading toward the man who’d called his name. Elijah turned toward me, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Hey, there,” he said. “Come here often?”
I laughed, shaking my head. The champagne I’d been drinking all afternoon had finally gone to my head making me dizzy. He took a step toward me, his hand landing on my hip when I nearly lost my balance. Our bodies swayed and moved with the beat of the music. I was just tipsy enough not to care if I looked silly or graceless.
“Oh, sure,” I answered. “I crash weddings in this hotel all the time.”
His grin grew wider as he chuckled. “Sounds like fun. Can I come with next time?”
Before I could answer him, a firm hand clamped on my bicep.
“It’s time for Lucy to throw the bouquet,” my friend Chelsea stated, tugging at me. “Let’s go!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Elijah gave me a little nudge until I stumbled behind her. Shooting him a narrow-eyed glare, which got me another chuckle, I caught my balance and almost jogged to keep up with Chelsea.
“I wasn’t going to?—”
Chelsea didn’t let me finish. She dragged me behind her, even when I tried to dig my heels in. Unfortunately, the stilettos I wore gave me no traction.
With a clatter of my heels, I found myself in the open space on the dance floor, directly in front of the low stage where the DJ was set up. Lucy grinned at the small group of women in front of her.
“Ready?” she asked.
I tried to take a step back, to disappear back into the crowd, but Chelsea shoved me forward again. Just as Chelsea pushed me, Lucy turned her back and launched the bouquet over her head. I stared in horror, my jaw slack, as the cluster of roses soared in a high arc above us. As though in slow motion, it started the downward trajectory, headed straight for me. Panicked, I retreated a step as two of the women tried to grab it simultaneously. The stems bounced off their grasping hands, sending the bouquet into a tailspin.
