Me: Come out in the hallway.
Her answer is immediate.
Saint: Right now?
Me: Yes. I haven’t touched you once all night.
Saint: Okay, give me a few minutes to get away from them.
Me: You have thirty seconds.
Saint: Or what? You’ll storm in and throw me over your shoulder?
Me: Or else you aren’t coming on my tongue tonight.
Saint: *shocked face* I don’t think you’ve ever threatened that!
Me: Desperate times call for desperate measures.
No more than a few seconds later, I see her peek her head out into the hallway and then make her way over to me.
“See, now was that so hard?” I ask her as I pull her gently out of the hallway and down another hallway, hoping for a more secluded area.
“Yes. Actually, Greer was literally mid-sentence, and a girl can’t exactly use ‘I have to pee. I’ll be right back’because we travel in packs to the bathroom, hello?”
I laugh at how animated she can be before breathing a sigh of relief when I see a door labeled “exit” that I’m hoping is a stairwell. I open the door and shoot her a wicked grin when I realize it is, and before the door is even closed, I have her against the wall and my lips against hers.
“You look so beautiful. I’m trying to keep my eyes off you, but it’s hard.” I whisper against her mouth. “Do we have to go to the after-party?”
“It’s a party to celebrate you, baby.” She looks up at me with those big brown eyes that I could stare into for hours if she let me.
“You are all I need to celebrate me.”
“We can take a detour on the way there and maybe…” She shrugs. “I can tell Sara I’m staying at Greer’s, and we could go somewhere later?”
“Fuck yeah, let’s do that,” I say before pressing my lips to hers hungrily.
I wince at the memory because that night, unfortunately, we got caught, which was another thing that led to my mom sending me to stay with my Aunt Emily that summer.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts just as we pull up to the venue where they’re holding the engagement party. It’s in a renovated greenhouse, so we can already see inside through the glass walls that run from the floor to the ceiling, as well as the slanted roof. It takes us a few minutes to valet the car before we slowly begin walking toward the entrance. Before we get too close to the door, I stop and pull Saint to the side without taking another step.
“No matter what happens in there… we are…” I know what I want to say and have a million ways to say it, but I’m not able to get the words out.
“I know.” Saint nods. I reach over to grab her wrist, rubbing at the tattoo of my name before briefly dragging it across my lips as inconspicuously as possible. She gives me a small smile and watches as my hand falls to my side, and I know it’s because she wants to hold my hand.
We make our way inside, and I take a second to admire the design and the overall architectural layout. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling, with green vines threaded throughout the strings. There are three long mahogany tables in the center of the room, all set and ready for dinner for what looks like about eighty people, as well as several standing cocktail tables around the perimeter. Candles flicker on all the tables, giving the room a soft glow, and when I look over at Saint, I see her taking in the atmosphere because she loves shit like this. There’s already a significant number of people here mingling and holding their drinks, which is surprising, considering we are only about ten minutes late.
“Sebastian!” I hear my mother before I see her, and then she’s floating toward me in a short-sleeved, flowy, floor-length white dress that cinches at her waist. Her dark hair dusts her shoulders, and half is pulled back with a clip, revealing diamond stud earrings in each ear.
“Hey, Mom,” I respond as I pull her in for a hug, and she squeezes me hard. I’ll admit I’ve missed my mother’s hugs. They were tight and warm, and she’s worn the same perfume since I was a kid, something floral with hints of jasmine, triggering feelings of nostalgia. She pulls away and pinches my nose gently, something she’s always done before turning to Saint.
“Halle. You are such a beautiful young woman.” I see a hint of glistening over her eyes, but she blinks them away after no more than a second.
“Thanks, Sara. You look beautiful as well… and so happy.” She smiles, but I can see just a flash of hurt across her face, and I realize she may be having a painful memory regarding her father.
“There are so many people who want to see you, but Halle, you have to meet Mike. He’s excited to meet you,” she says before grabbing both of our hands and tugging us gently. “And then we’ll get you drinks.” She pulls us toward a group of older men, with the exception of one, who I assume may be Mike’s son.
“Honey.” She beams up at him, and Mike, a very tall and broad-shouldered man, turns toward us. His hair is almost entirely gray, and he wears glasses that sit atop a slightly crooked nose, framing brown eyes. He smiles instantly, and while I’ve never had any bad feelings regarding him marrying my mother, I still don’t know him all that well.
