Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I’m fueled purely by the need to help. The need to save Stella from whatever it is that’s coming at her.
I swallow, my words flowing without thought. “Of course I’m not happy we lost. Of course I’m not pleased about my red card. Or that our season is officially over.” I lift my chin and clear my throat. Speaking loud and clear, I say, “But I am happy to have more time with myfiancée?—”
“Fiancée?” Callum says beside me. His reporter is sneering at the pair of us, annoyed he’s been left for me.
“This is new,” the woman interviewing me says. “Is she here? Does she have a name?”
“Stella Everly and I plan to marry as soon as possible.” Stella doesn’t have a boyfriend or a way out of this injustice. So, I’ll provide one. “We’ve just been waiting for the season to end to share thehappynews.”
With the sound of her name, Stella stumbles into her friend, a gasping breath escaping her lips.
My heart thumps as I watch her just feet away.
It’s possible I should have discussed any illegal immigration activity with Stella before announcing our impending wedding.
Eight
“Did he just say—”
“Stella,” Willow says, filling in the blank as my legs turn to Jell-O, inch by inch.
“And did I hear?—”
“Fiancée.” Willow wraps one arm around my back, her hand in the crook of my armpit, holding me up as if I were a toddler about to toss myself onto the ground.
“So, he did mention?—”
“Marriage. As soon as possible.” Willow’s grip on me tightens just as my knees decide to buckle. I dip, but she holds me tighter and somehow, by the grace of the Almighty, I stay on my feet.
“Wait, are you—” says a woman just to the side of me. “Stella?”
I turn to a petite brunette and a tall blonde who both happen to be staring at me.
“Roman’s engaged?” the blonde says. “I didn’t think he really communicated orrelationshiped or?—”
“Rosalie,” the brunette scolds, shushing the other woman.
“What?” Rosalie’s eyes widen. “He’s TheGraveyard. You’re telling me you aren’t a little surprised to hear he’s been dating?”
The brunette ignores her friend and looks right at me. “You’re Roman’s fiancée?”
I swallow. “I. Am. Stella.”
The woman smiles at me, then Willow. “I’m Fran. I’m Callum’s fiancée. Cal never mentioned Roman was getting married as well.” Her smile grows as if this piece of information is important.
I blink and take in her words, but … “I. Am. Stella.”
Willow’s firm grip keeps me upright, and I feel a small pat on my arm.
Fran chuckles at my repeated phrase. “It’s good to meet you. How long have you and Roman been together?”
My mouth goes dry. “I. Am?—”
Willow pinches my side, and I snap my mouth closed. “They’ve known each other since they were kids. It’s long-distance.”
“And The Graveyard is private,” Rosalie says.
“And that—” Willow lifts her arm not wrapped around me and points to the blonde. “Yes. The Graveyard is private.”
