Amy smirks. “I can’t believe you actually made it.”
Paige took a trip to Paris with her boyfriend for three weeks, promising she’d be back in time for the wedding. I didn’t think she was going to make it.
Colt raises his beer. “About damn time you two showed up.”
“Fashionably late,” Amy says, sliding onto a stool.
I settle next to her and Paige while Eagle waves down the prospect behind the bar. “Shots. We're celebrating.”
“Eagle, I don't know if?—”
“Nope.” He cuts me off, shaking his head. “You're getting married in two days. Tonight, we drink.”
“Please, Hope,” Paige begs. “I just got off the plane and had one helluva trip and need a drink with my girlies.” I raise my brow, and she sighs. “We’ll talk about it later, I promise. Tonight is about you and Frost, and my drama can wait.”
“Fine,” I concede with a groan.
The prospect lines up the shot glasses and pours an amber liquid that I'm pretty sure is whiskey.
Hawk slides one toward me with a grin. “To Hope and Frost. May they never kill each other.”
I laugh, picking up the glass. “I'll drink to that.”
Amy raises hers. “To love and bad decisions.”
“Cheers to that,” Paige says, and we all knock them back.
The whiskey burns going down, warm and sharp, and I feel some of the tension from this morning start to ease. The worry about Frost being distant and the stress of the flower disaster fade into the background. This is exactly what I needed.
“Another,” Paige says, and the prospect pours again.
I laugh at Paige and Amy as they try to cross arms together to do their shots like a couple would drink champagne. The shot glass is halfway to my lips when suddenly it's ripped from my hand.
I gasp and spin around. Frost hurls the glass against the wall. It shatters, the crash so loud it cuts through the music like a gunshot. Everything stops. The music, the conversation.Everything. The entire clubhouse goes silent.
Frost is standing right in front of me, his face twisted with fury, his chest heaving.
“What the fuck, Deacon?” Paige shouts as she jumps off her stool.
“You stay out of this,” he barks and turns back toward me. “How the fuck can you drink when you're pregnant with my kid?”
His voice roars through the room, echoing off the walls. I stare at him, then I look at Amy. I don’t know what comes over me, but I burst out laughing. This has to be a joke. Some weird, prenuptial prank the guys put him up to. Maybe Chaos dared him or something, but when I look back at Frost, the laughter dies in my throat.
Because Frost's not laughing. He stares at me like he doesn't even know me, like I'm a stranger who betrayed him in the worst possible way.
My stomach drops.
“What... what are you talking about?” I ask, my voice small.
“You know damn well what I'm talking about.” His voice cracks, raw and jagged.
I shake my head and stand up from the stool. “Frost, I honestly have no clue what's going on.”
“So, you're gonna stand there and keep lying to me?” He takes a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Is that it?”
“Lying?” My voice rises, defensive now. “I'm not lying about anything!”
Amy moves forward, her hand reaching for Frost's arm. “Back the fu?—”
