Almost explained why I was the way I was—why I had rules, why I kept people at a distance, why my entire life was structured around keeping myself in check.
But something lodged in my throat before I could get the words out.
Why was I talking about this? I never talked about this. Ever.
A thin layer of sweat broke out on my neck, and I rolled the window down, sucking in a breath of cool night air.
His face twisted in understanding, like he knew just what kind of battle was going on inside my head. Then, without a word, he passed me the bottle.
“Don’t worry, Mitch.” His voice was steady. Unassuming. “I won’t ask you to spill your secrets. Maybe over time you can tell me as a friend, but not tonight.”
Over time.
Friends.
Not tonight.
I ran my finger over my lip and glanced at him. “Planning on us hanging out in the future? Awfully arrogant of you.”
“Nah. With our friends being friends, it makes sense.” He shot me an easy grin, eyes wide and warm, like he hadn’t just pried open a part of me I kept locked up tight.
A heavy pause settled between us before he tilted his head toward the window. “We can go in now.”
“Wait, we’re here?”
“Yeah. It’s typical for the bridal party to take photos and drink for an hour before arriving, so I asked our driver to stay on the road for a bit.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Was your plan to get in my pants the entire time?”
I meant it as a joke, but his smile faltered, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “Because I didn’t mind,” I added quickly.
Still, silence.
Guilt curled in my stomach, irrational and immediate. I wasn’t even sure what I’d done wrong, but before I could overthink it, he took my hand and led me out of the limo.
Couples and families lined up at the entrance, and I barely had time to take it all in before I noticed the security guards stationed near the doors.
“Oh, damn,” I muttered.
Brooks followed my gaze and nodded. “Part of Gideon’s life, I’m sure.”
“Do you… would you have security guards?”
“Depends on the event.” He shrugged, squeezing my hand a few times, almost like he couldn’t believe I still held his. “Public places like this? Yeah. Social media spreads news fast. It’d be easy for fans to sneak in and ruin the moment.”
Loud music thumped through the double doors as he led me inside, and I sucked in a sharp breath at how gorgeous the reception hall was.
Vases of white flowers decorated the tables, chairs covered in crisp white fabric and tied with elegant purple bows. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their light casting the room in a soft golden glow.
I smiled, pride swelling in my chest for Fiona. “Her wedding is beautiful.”
Brooks let go of my hand long enough to grab the name cards from the table, grinning as he handed mine over.
“Table five,” he murmured, amused. “I think that makes us important.”
I laughed. “I don’t know about that…”
“Family isn’t always blood, Mitch,” he said, tucking his name card into his jacket.
