“Names?” she asks.
“As if you don’t know who we are,” Wren sasses, and I love seeing this side of her appear.
Betty scoffs, looking offended. “I didn’t realize this was…a joint appearance.” She looks us up and down, homing in on where Wren’s hand is still clutched in the crook of my arm.
Wren stiffens at my side, tugging her hand slightly, but I place my opposite one on hers, halting her retreat.
Betty marks us off the list, then looks at us again. Judgement laces her glare. “I thought tonight was about athletics and not rehashing old history.”
The nerve of this woman. I don’t raise my voice. My mom would have my head if I talked disrespectfully to my elder.
“Tonight is about the athletic programs, but it’s also about celebrating whatshebuilt,” I say calmly and clearly, eyes steady on Betty.
“Jett,” Wren starts, but I shake my head.
I gesture past us, toward the open hall. “Those dice stacked by the door? Her idea. The color palette, the whole layout, every inch of this room is hers.”
Betty blinks, pursing her lips. “It’s not like she was the only one who thought of a casino night.”
“No, but she took an empty hall and turned it into this. And she did it for the kids, the programs, and the community that has talked behind her back for years, including you.”
I glance at Wren, at her mouth slightly parted and eyes shining. It pains me to know how much this beautiful woman was missing praise.
“And it looks incredible.”
The silence that follows is brief, but noticeable. Finally, someone has left Betty Jones speechless. I bet Joe Whitley would pay to see this moment.
“Enjoy your evening, Ms. Jones.”
We step past her, and Wren nuzzles closer to my side. “Who knew you had it in you, Riggsby?”
I roll my eyes. “Back to the last name?”
She flashes me a devilish smirk. And I can’t help myself. Before I know it, I’m leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to her temple, relishing how she gasps.
“Jett…”
“Don’t overthink it, baby.”
Stepping through the archway, the space opens up into a large room. The soft glow of overhead lights mixes with the string lights strung across the ceiling, reflecting the gold accents and emerald green-covered tables. Everything feels alive, humming with anticipation of a fun night ahead.
“Why does this feel like deja vu?”
“Feels like senior year prom, doesn’t it?”
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Play your cards right, and you might end the night the same way.”
My eyes widen. “Wren Drummond, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She shrugs, and I huff a laugh. We stand there for a moment, our eyes locked as we both replay the memory of our senior prom.
I realize whatever is said about us, whatever people think, none of it matters. Because right here, right now, this moment belongs to us.
Chapter 28
Wren
“Well,damn,”someonedrawlsfrom behind us, followed by a sharp whistle that echoes off the high ceiling, causing more heads to turn in our direction. “Don’t you two clean up nice.”
