Grabbing a bag with a change of clothes, I head toward the front door. I won’t be gone long. A few hours at the most. Back in time for the wedding preparations and a long shower.
“Where are you going?” The question is asked in a British drawl.
I pause, hand on the door. Shit. “Why are you awake?” I ask him.
“Probably for the same reason you are.” James pushes off the downstairs lounger where he’s been sitting, alone in the dark, and walks over. “Don’t tell me you’re heading off to fight.”
“Fine. I won’t tell you.”
His voice is low. “You told us you’d stopped.”
“I was lying,” I say. They all thought fighting was fun, at first. Even came with me to a few cage matches. But as time went on and we grew older, the stakes became higher. The consequences more severe. They saw how my habit had shifted from a fun hobby into somethingmore, and one after the other, they told me I had to stop.
So I told them I had.
It’s not anyone’s job to worry over me.
“Do you know who you’re fighting?” he asks.
“No, I’ll just drop in. It’ll be fine.”
“When you come back with a black eye tomorrow for your wedding, it’ll befine?” He shakes his head. “You’re playing a public game here.”
“I know that. That’s why I won’t let them get my face. I’m better than that.”
“Letthem,” James mutters. “Sometimes I want to hit you myself.”
“You can come along. Get in the ring. It’s been a long time since you’ve boxed, you know. And I bet you have some built-up frustrations yourself.”
“I won’t.”
I roll my neck again. “Of course not.”
James doesn’t get himself into scrapes like that. He handles messes, he doesn’t make them. And he stopped with the recklessness when his child was born. Being an orphan himself, he once said he’d rather die than do the same to his kid.
The irony wasn’t lost on any of us.
“But I will come with you,” he says, and pushes the door open. “Someone’s got to protect you from yourself.”
CHAPTER 31
PAIGE
Rafe’s team is excellent.
The morning of my wedding, the only thing for me to do is show up. There’s even a cup of coffee and chocolate waiting for me by the makeup chair. Someone does my hair, too, and the team helps me get into the wedding dress. Everything is organized down to a T. Both Nora and Amber come through, and I laugh and talk with them like all is fine.
And then it’s time.
I stand at the base of the stairs in the villa with Karim. I can’t pace. The wedding dress is too tight for that, and too gorgeous to ruin. I clutch the bouquet tight instead. It’s filled with purples and whites to match the setting sun, a theme I like but didn’t choose. Like most things about this wedding.
There’s no one here to walk me down the aisle.
I’ve known that would be the case since I was nineteen. That I would never have my parents here for my wedding. That didn’t bother me at the courthouse. That was a business transaction.
But this is an actual wedding. My wedding. My giantfakewedding.
The villa’s garden is filled to the brim with guests andphotographers. For such short notice, the people in attendance are illustrious. It seems like people rearranged their calendars to be here. That’s how big this is.
