Maybe it’s just the fact that in less than six days, I’m going to be married.
I’m going to walk down the aisle of the church and I’m going to take Savannah as my wife.
Holy fucking shit.
Why is that thought so fucking scary?
“It’s just pre-wedding jitters, man,” I tell myself. “Everyone gets cold feet. Doesn’t change how you feel.”
My reflection stares back at me, judging me for my momentary lapse of confidence.
In just a few hours, we’ll touch down in Vegas, and this is my last weekend as a single, twenty-one year old college man.
Reality dawns on me that this is it. My life is about to change in so many ways, it’s terrifying. But it’s what I want.
This, Savannah, the house, the job… it’s what I want.
So why am I having an existential crisis in an airplane bathroom?
“You’re just tired,” I tell myself, running my hands under the water again, as if I can wash off the feelings. It doesn’t work, but it was worth a shot.
I find my way back to my seat, which isn’t that far away. I stop in the aisle for a moment, taking in the sight of my best friend, arms crossed over his chest, his head lolled to the side, dark eyelashes fluttering, and lips slightly parted.
He looks so utterly content and comfortable; I can’t help but be envious.
I wish I felt the way he feels right now.
I feel someone staring and when I look over, I find Mack watching me curiously so I quickly slip back into my seat, shifting around as I try to get comfortable. I move near the window, but that doesn’t work.
I kick my legs out, bring them up, contort myself like a pretzel, but nothing shakes the feeling of anxiety swelling in my stomach, or the panic rising in my throat. My shoulder feels heavy, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts, and I realize Cam’s shifted his position too.
His head rests on my shoulder faintly, his overpowering shampoo scent soothing my nerves just a fraction, and I let out a sigh, closing my eyes.
It’s like even in his sleep, he knows I’m a mess. Like even unconscious, he can’t help but give me the comfort he knows I need.
I’m so lucky to have him, my best friend.
Cam.
Naturally, I let my head fall against his, the sound of his breathing like one of those sleep machines. Steady, I breathe along with him, until sleep beckons me once more.
Chapter Twelve
Cameron
Our rooms are all on the same floor, with two to a room. Of course Austen and I are sharing one, because I wouldn’t have come otherwise. I don’t miss the snickers from his teammates as they realize that, as if they didn’t know it would be the case, anyway.
Honestly, I have no idea why the hell I’m here.
Yeah, normally, Vegas is totally for me. The clubbing, the partying, the guys… but I don’t act like that when I’m with Austen because I can’t be that waywithhim. That’s what I do when he’s off doing whatever he’s doing. So basically, I’m in Vegas right now and not at all able to enjoy it the way I would typically.
It’s bad enough I’m his best man in his wedding, pretty much agreeing to give him away to fucking Savannah. I mean, I know that’s not really what it means, but it’s what it feels like.
Though, I guess all big changes elicit big feelings. It’s exactly how I felt when I found out Austen was going to Brighton Falls because I wasn’t. I’d been accepted to RISD and had full intentions of going. It’s not that our current school is terrible, but the other option was better. Yet, the idea of being so far from my best friend was too much to handle. So, I decided to come with him to BF. And that’s just one more secret I keep from him. How much of an asshole am I?
“Ten minutes, then we’re going for dinner, assholes!” Alex shouts just before the door heavily snaps shut. I raise a brow at Austen, who shrugs, giving me a small smile, then drops his bag by the first bed.
With a roll of my eyes, I move to the second one, drop my bag on the floor, then fall face first onto the bouncy mattress.
