18
Gabe
By the time I make it to the hotel where the wedding is being held, it’s dark outside and the night is growing late. The ceremony will be long over. The dinner, too, most likely, but I need to see Sydney and let her know that I remember her, and I care. I’m tired, but I need to prove I made the right choice in taking the fight, and I won’t be certain until I see her smile and tell me it’s okay.
At the reception desk, I ask for directions, relieved once again that the fight was so one-sided because I don’t have any facial bruises or wounds that will freak anyone out. When I reach the ballroom where the band is playing, I pause in the doorway. Scanning the guests, I search for Sydney, but what I see is infinitely more frightening. Lena is striding toward me, chin raised, nostrils flared, and murder in her eyes.
Oh, shit.
Normally, I get on just fine with Jase’s girl, but something tells me I’m not going to like what she’s got to say.
“Hey, Lena.”
“Nuh-uh,” she snaps, holding up a hand. “Stop right there. Sydney doesnotneed to see you tonight.” She waves her hands, ushering me out. When the door closes, separating us from the wedding guests, she turns on me. “You absolute ass. How dare you show up here?”
“I, uh…” Her reaction has caught me off guard, and I don’t know how to handle it. “I thought it’d be nice to surprise Sydney.”
She shakes her head. “‘Nice’ would’ve been not ditching her in the first place. You turning up here isn’t about her. It’s about you making yourself feel better. But guess what, Gabe? You hurt her, and nothing can change that. You chose an MMA fight—one that wasn’t even a big deal—over her, and you know where that tells her she ranks in your priorities?”
“That’s not how it is,” I protest, knowing it sounds weak. “She said I should take the fight, and I even arranged for it to happen earlier, so I could make it here.”
“Not good enough.” She jabs me in the chest with each word, not even mildly afraid of me despite the fact I’m twice her size and sporting a glare. “Some things matter more than MMA, and if you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve her.”
The disappointed line of her mouth and the fire flashing in her eyes tell me there’s no point in arguing with her tonight, but nor do I want Sydney to think I completely abandoned her, or that I don’t care. I fucking hate the thought of hurting her and not being able to do a damn thing about it.
“I need to see Syd.”
To my surprise, she relents, leading me back inside, but she stops me before we’ve taken two steps into the ballroom and points out my beautiful girl, who’s dancing with a blond man and wearing a hesitant smile. She’s dancingwith another man.
My heart automatically rebels. Not okay.
“It took me hours to get her to relax like that,” Lena murmurs. “She’s finally enjoying herself, no thanks to you, so think carefully about whether you’re prepared to ruin that.”
Okay, she’s successfully made me feel like a terrible person. Watching Sydney, I look for signs of strain on her face, and find them. Her eyes are tinged with red, and even though she’s smiling, it doesn’t meet her eyes. My stomach bottoms out, leaving me feeling hollow and empty. Lena is right. I upset her, even if I didn’t mean to, but I can’t stand here and let someone else make it better, either. I need to try.
Pushing past Lena, I stride over to Sydney and her companion.
“Gabe!” Her eyes widen, and her cheeks are flushed. With joy? Because she’s had too much to drink? Or something else? “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’d come as soon as I could.” I kiss her lips, although she seems too shocked to respond, then jerk my head at the guy. “Thanks for looking after her, but she’s with me now.”
Her jaw drops. “Excuse me?” The words are a squeak. Barely audible.
The guy’s gaze flickers to her, a question in it. He looks vaguely familiar but I can’t put my finger on where I know him from.
“You can’t just barge in here and… and…” she sputters.
“Yeah?” I prompt, not sure where she’s going with this.
“And take over like you didn’t ditch me!” Her voice rises, and people are starting to stare. Yeah, she’s definitely had a few drinks.
My shoulders hunch, but they don’t deflect the attention. “I just wanna dance.”
She pouts. “Well, you don’t get to dance with me tonight. And you definitely don’t get to send away my dance partner just because you don’t approve. You chose not to be here.”
“But now I am.” I gesture around to show that I am, indeed, here.
“Syd, is everything okay?” the guy asks.
