The surprise on her face registers deep in my belly, and I’m suddenly reeling with the thought that this is real. No longer are we playing some fantastical game. What we have is real and new and exciting.
“It was special,” I agree. Ryan shows his own agreement by sliding his hand low on my back. I clear my throat, all too aware that Mrs. Pierce is standing right in front of us. “Anyway, how are Lawrence and Lilia doing?”
“Actually, Lawrence told me to send you back as soon as you arrived.”
“What does he want?” Ryan pulls me closer. “I’ll head back there now.”
Mrs. Pierce reaches out, rests her fingers on her son’s arm. “Not you. He wants to see Andi.”
Ryan freezes. “Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ryan says, turning to me. “See what he—”
“No, just Andi will be fine. Ryan, come help with some chairs,” his mother says firmly.
“But—”
“It’s okay,” I say, offering a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Ryan pauses, and then realizes that between me and his mother, he’s fighting a losing battle. “I’ll be waiting out here…with the chairs. Come back soon, or I’ll find you.”
I make my way through the beautiful old church, the stained-glass windows giving off a colorful sheen on the white walls, the carpeting red beneath my feet. I let soft footsteps carry me to the area behind the altar where Mrs. Pierce directed me.
“Andi.” Lawrence sees me before I can reach him. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“The church is beautiful,” I say as he pulls me away from the small crowd of men in suits around him. “I can’t wait to see Lilia.”
He pulls me to the last pew in the side section and sits down next to me. “Listen, I need to apologize.”
I shake my head. “No, of course not.”
“I had too much to drink, and as I’m sure my brother told you, I can be an asshole now and again.”
“I really didn’t think—”
“You don’t have to stick up for me,” he says. “I can admit when I screwed up, and I did. I’m sorry I said any of that at dinner.”
“Really, it’s okay. I’m over it.”
He has similar brown eyes to Ryan, and staring into them is almost eerie. “I didn’t realize how serious the two of you are.”
“We weren’t all that serious,” I say, struggling to explain. “It’s new, and you couldn’t have known. It was an honest mistake.”
“He really likes you, Andi,” Lawrence says. “I’ve never seen him act like this with a girl before.”
“I really like him too.”
“I know, and that’s why I’m apologizing.” He offers a smile, and in it, I see the charm that Lilia must see too. “I’m trying not to be a jerk, but I fuck up now and again. I just wanted to say, well, welcome to the family.”
I swallow over a lump in my throat. “You didn’t have to apologize, but…thank you.”
He opens his arms, a bit timid, and I laugh.
“Friends?” he asks. “Please? Lilia would kill me if she knew I didn’t apologize to you. She likes you too.”
I open my arms and give him a quick hug, pulling away with a smile of my own. “So that’s the only reason you apologized, huh? To keep Lilia happy?”
He looks alarmed at first, but my voice is teasing, and so is my grin.
“You’re good.” He points at me, a broad grin on his face as he shakes his finger. “You know what they say: happy wife, happy life. Now, let’s go get me married to the most beautiful woman on earth!”
I’m giddy watching Lawrence stride back through the church, clasping hands with his groomsmen as he passes. I’m so occupied watching the reunion that I don’t realize Ryan has sat down next to me until he eases his hand into mine.
His face is unreadable. “Everything all right?”
“It’s perfect,” I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Lawrence isn’t so bad.”
Ryan looks surprised, sits back against the pew. “He apologized?”
“Let’s just say, I think we’re friends now.”
“I didn’t think he had it in him.”
“Get up there.” I playfully smack Ryan’s butt. “Be the best man you can be.”
“And then later…” He leans over, his lips pressed to my ear. “I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”
I shiver as he walks away, goose bumps on my skin despite the warm summer day.
When the wedding bells chime, I stand with the rest of the congregation, the world a bright and sunny place, at least for today. Then Ryan waves at me from his place on the altar, and my heart stutters, racing at the thought that finally, I’ve found what my dad was talking about.
CHAPTER 43
Ryan
“May I have this dance?” I whisper in Andi’s ear, my hand on the bare skin of her back.
She startles, halfway into reaching for one of those miniature hot dog appetizer things. They’re good, I know—I ate about ten of them.
She turns to me, eyes wide with surprise, the little hot dog in her hands. “Dance?”
I laugh. Her mouth is full, and she is obviously going for her second one. “Hungry?”
She swallows. “These are delicious. I need to convince my dad to sell some at the restaurant.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Her eyes darken. “A dance?”
I extend my hand and wait as she sets the appetizer on a napkin, wipes her hands, and joins me on the dance floor. By the time she twirls into my arms, my heart is pumping as if I’m about to play for the Stanley Cup.
I haven’t made it to the finals yet, which is a big part of the reason I’m looking to transfer. LA is rebuilding their team, and they have a strong bunch of up-and-comers. I want to be one of them—at least, I did until I met Andi.
“Where’d you learn how to dance?” she asks, leaning her head against my chest.
I cinch my hands tighter across her back. “Prom.”
We’re slow dancing, spinning in a circle and barely moving our feet. It’s not as if I’m talented or particularly skilled in this arena; I just try not to stand still or twirl too quickly. There aren’t that many ways to screw up a slow dance.
As I inhale the vaguely familiar scent of her shampoo, it’s impossible not to get turned on; I can’t help it. Her hands, tiny in comparison to mine, clasp my shoulders a bit more firmly than necessary. She takes these little breaths that make it sound like she’s excited, and when she looks up at me, it’s like I’m the only person she can see.
Without a doubt, I know I’m the lucky one.
“What are you thinking?” she murmurs. “You look so serious.”
I blink, and let a smile come to my lips. “I must have been concentrating.”
“On what?”
“The way you look.”
“Oh?” It’s neither a question nor a statement, simply an exhale of breath in the shape of an O.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“You’re pretty handsome yourself,” she says, her hands tightening around my neck. “Kiss me, handsome.”