She kisses me quickly on the cheek. “I was wrong to take it out on you, too.”
I move us slightly to the right to avoid running us into my aunt and uncle as they dance. “Did you see the news?”
“About Clark?” I nod and she continues. “I did. You were expecting it, right?” Hearing her speak so plainly on what was once my second biggest secret (behind being in love with her for years) makes me regret not saying anything sooner. Everyone would have understood. I nod and she continues. “What did everyone say?”
“They basically said ‘good riddance’. They feel the same way I do: that he got his MVPs and his sponsorship deals and his commercials and choked in every championship game.”
Her brows shoot up in surprise. “Henry said that?”
“He did. And Grant agreed.” The song changes from one slow song to the next. I’m relieved. I was not ready to let Nash go.
“Did you say anything?”
“I told them everything I had been wanting to say.” I shrug. “They were totally cool with it. I’ll have to fess up to Ma and Pa tomorrow, but I’ll deal with that then.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she says and rests her head against my chest as we sway in small circles.
“I’m sure Chad or Grant have already told their parents, who have probably already told my parents. Those two can’t keep their mouths shut.”
“What does this mean for you?”
“I haven’t signed a new contract with the Hurricanes but I’m–” Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I could screamright now. How many fucking times is someone going to interrupt me.
“Can I steal her for a dance?” Henry asks, and I can’t say no to a man on his wedding day.
I step back from Nash. “I’ll be right over there,” I say to her before heading toward our seats and leaving her in the hands of Henry.
Before I step away, she says, “I’ll support you no matter what.” Her face is warm with encouragement and something else… Determination? Weird.
For the rest of the night, no matter how hard I try, I’m interrupted at every turn. By the time they’re ushering all of us out of the venue so the bride and groom can have a private last dance, I’m out of patience.
I’ll just wait until we get back to the farmhouse where no one can interrupt us.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
NASH
It turns out the grand exit was quite the show. There was a big hullabaloo when Uncle Jamie attempted to light his cigarette with his sparkler. Aunt Shirley had to take it away from him, but he got the damn thing lit. He looked like a cat who caught the canary the rest of the time we waited for Henry and Hazel to come out. Their mom had decorated Henry’s truck, which was nearly twenty-five years newer than Wyatt’s, with a just married sign, as well as flowers in the truck bed and empty cans tied to the bumper. It sat in the drive at the end of the walkway waiting for them.
When they came out everyone shouted over Hazel’s wardrobe change. Gone was her elegant, flowing, yet fitted, floor-length gown. Replacing it was a short number with tassels of pearl beads around the hem. It glittered in the sparklers and the camera flashes as they walked down the middle, pausing only for another dipped kiss. It was so sweet to watch as Henry helped Hazel into the passenger seat of his truck. Wyatt had told me that the wedding coordinator had already packed up all their stuff and loaded it into thebackseat. They’ll go straight from here to the hotel in Milwaukee to catch their flight to their Florida honeymoon tomorrow.
After we could no longer see their brake lights, people broke off into small groups to talk and make plans for breakfast tomorrow.
Wyatt turns to me, and I can instantly read the heat in his gaze. “Ready to go?”
“I’ll meet you back at the farmhouse.” He seems reluctant to leave me even to drive his own car home, but I don’t think they want us leaving cars in the parking lot overnight.
I take my time driving back. I’m in a tornado of emotions. The pull I had toward him this morning, the one I’ve always had for him, is still there. His strong arms call to me, telling me that once I’m wrapped up in them, everything will be okay; he’ll make me feel good. My kitty is being tugged in that direction. My heart is beating a bruised rhythm. Every beat of it sounds likefake, fake, fake. It hurts knowing that at one point, years ago, he was possibly in love with me. When he purchased that chest, he wanted more from our relationship. How could he have sex with me on the beach in front of the fire just two days ago when he knew his ultimate goal was to come back here?Why did I kiss him back knowing the same?
The answer is easy, but disappointing. You don’t have to be in love with someone to have sex with them. You can be attracted to their body and not interested in anything more than friendship. I just have to decide if I can accept that from Wyatt. Right now, we are fake dating with benefits. Will I be okay to return to just being friends with benefits, or not even friends at all, when we go home tomorrow?
If we’ll be nothing when we return to Houston, what do I want from the rest of tonight?
Him.
His body.
One more time. I’ll take the feeling of his warm skin beneath my hands and keep it tucked away for the rest of my life. I’ll smile when he says, ‘this was fun’ and wait to let the tears fall until I’m back in my own room.