I sit back on my haunches and watch her continue to dig through my clothes, baffled. This girl is off her rocker!
Glancing at the carousel, I spot a bag identical to mine, sans ribbon, moving toward us. Rolling my eyes, I stand and grab the suitcase and set it down next to her.
“I think this one is yours,” I grumble.
She pauses and looks from my open suitcase to the one I just grabbed and back again, her cheeks turning bright pink. How is she going to try and talk her way out of this mess now?
Jumping to her feet, she takes the bag and hurriedly stammers, “Oh, God…I’m sorry. That was crazy of me! I swear, I’m not usually such a raging bitch. I’ve just had a shitty few days and I’m not in the best head space.”
She looks so frazzled and genuinely remorseful, I almost feel bad for her.
“Hey, we all have bad days,” I reply in a sympathetic voice.
“Yeah,” she mumbles, glancing down. “Still, it’s no excuse. I am really sorry for freaking out like that and not believing you. The ribbon is a good idea.”
The corner of my mouth crooks up and I shrug. “It’s okay…”
A sudden buzzing sound interrupts me and she jumps, startled, before frantically digging her phone out of her purse.
“Oh, shit,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. Um, I hope the rest of your time in Miami is much less dramatic than this.”
Before I can say another word, she turns and hurries away, putting her phone to her ear to answer the call. That was…wild. I watch her disappear into the crowd and shake my head before kneeling to zip my suitcase shut. Making my way out of the airport, I hail a cab to head to the hotel, and I can’t help but imagine how shocked Rylee will be when she finally realizes who I am.
We’re standing near the bar, watching as the afterparty really gets going around us. I got to the hotel with time to spare and was able to change into my suit and make myself presentable, even styling my hair so I didn’t look like a total barbarian. I feel a little weird being all dressed up, and I definitely don’t look like myself, but for the sake of my friends’ special day, I’m willing to pretty myself up a bit.
The wedding ceremony was beautiful, heartfelt, perfect, yadda, yadda… So what if I was in tears by the time Jensen and Grace finished their vows? So was anyone else there with a damn heart.
Grace and Jensen are so in love with each other, it’s almost nauseating. Hard to believe that when they first met on spring break in college, they both thought they were just going to have a quick fling. The universe said, “Fuck that,” and threw them back together years later. Their relationship hasn’t been a typical fairy tale given Grace’s initial hatred of all things hockey and hockey players, but clearly, they figured it all out. And maybe this wedding means there’s hope for the rest of us.
The reception so far has consisted of food, speeches, and champagne, but now the gloves are off as the DJ lets loose, and the beer and liquor flow. The grandparents and kiddos have gone to bed for the night.
Time for the adults to party.
That goes double for us Night Hawks since we’re still riding the high of our Stanley Cup win.
However, instead of enjoying myself like all my friends and the other guests, I can’t stop watching Rylee. She’s been avoiding me… or, at least, I think so. Maybe she actually doesn’t give a damn about me at all, and has completely put me from her mind. I noted her initial look of wide-eyed shock when she’d spotted me among the groomsmen, but she quickly looked away and hasn’t said a word to me all night.
She looks stunning in her flowy bridesmaid gown, her blonde hair artfully piled onto her head. Some strands have fallen loose since the dancing started, but her flushed cheeks and wide smile only add to her appeal.
I can’t help stealing glances her way. She’s dancing and laughing… the life of the party. It’s impossible not to be drawn into her.
I guess the same can’t be said about me.
“So I guess she’s going to ignore me all night.”
“What was that, Zan?”
Blinking, I glance at Wilder, who’s standing next to me, gazing at me expectantly. Shit, did I say that out loud?
“Uhhhh… huh?” I reply, playing dumb.
Wilder frowns, his mouth barely visible in his thick beard. Part of the team’s defense, Wilder towers over most everyone here… except for me. We’re almost eye-level, which is pretty rare when you’re 6’2”. Pushing his long dark curls behind his ear, he narrows his eyes in obvious suspicion.
“You mumbled something,” he says. “Something about someone ignoring you.”
“Don’t know why I’d say that,” I shrug. “Ignore me. I’m drunk.”
To emphasize the point, I lift my beer to my lips and take a long drink. Wilder lets out a bark of laughter and slaps my shoulder, making me sputter against the bottle. Have you ever had a fucking lumberjack give you a love tap? If I wasn’t a big guy myself, Wilder would’ve dropped me to my knees.
