I’m running late.
I fucking hate running late, and I really hate running late when it involves a beautiful woman.
“Listen, all I’m saying is, maybe things would have been different if JC was the one whose career took off and not Justin, you know? He was clearly the most talented member of the band, but no, we had noodle-hair boy plastered all over the cover of Teen Bop for years.”
“Fucking hell.” I pinch my nose between my finger and thumb, a headache settling in between my eyes. “Why are we talking about this again, Miller?”
“Because I was out grabbing pizzas for the girls, and I saw Justin on the cover of some magazine with an article about his perfect life with his perfect wife, and it just brought up some old feelings.”
“So you called me? To chat about NSYNC?” I rub at that same spot again, the throbbing starting back up.
“Well, no. I called you to say you had better take good care of Stevie tonight, but I saw the magazine and got sidetracked.”
“You called me about Stevie? To…what? Threaten me if I don’t take care of her?”
“Yep.” He pops the P, shuffling the phone around, and I watch as he grabs a bag of chips and opens them right there in the aisle. “I know where you work. I know where you live. And I also happen to know all of the weak spots in your gear. So if you hurt her, I swear to God I’ll make it look like nothing more than a freak hockey accident when I slit your throat.”
“Jesus, Miller.”
It’s quite the visual he’s painted, one I can see very clearly. That isn’t the scariest part, though. It’s how he tells me all this––with a grin on his face and sincerity in his eyes. Miller means what he says, and it makes me respect him.
It also pisses me off.
“I don’t plan to hurt Stevie.”
“Oh, I know you don’t.” His bright smile nearly blinds me even through the phone screen. “You act like a big tough grump, but deep down, you’re a softy. I still have to let you know how it’s going to be, though. Stevie’s going to be my sister-in-law someday, so consider it my brotherly duty.”
“Your warning has been heard.” I roll my eyes, but he doesn’t care. “Can I go now? I kind of have a wedding to get to, and I’m about to knock on my date’s door.”
I glance up at the 23C on the door, hoping like hell Stevie can’t hear this conversation on the other side of it. I wouldn’t have usually answered Miller’s call, but he never sends me video chat requests, so I was worried something was wrong with Macie.
Nope. Turns out he just wanted to chat boy bands and threaten me.
“You can go. Please tell Stevie I said she looks beautiful.”
“You haven’t even seen her.” I haven’t even seen her, though based on the dress I bought her, I have no doubt she looks incredible.
“Yeah, but she’s always pretty. I mean, Scout’s prettier, but still.”
I really want to come back with something stupid about Stevie being the prettier one, but that would be super high school of me, and I don’t have the time anyway.
“Good night, Miller.”
“Night, Greer. And remember…”
“Yeah, yeah. Skate to the throat, big accident. I got it.”
He grins. “Good boy.”
I hit the red button before he can say anything else that’s going to drive me nuts and slip my phone into my pocket. With a steadying breath, I rap my knuckles against the door. There’s a soft shuffling on the other side before it’s pulled open, and my breath is stolen from my lungs.
“Wow.”
It’s all I can think of to say when I take in the woman in front of me.
I was right to pick the dress I did. The blue matches her eyes perfectly, and the waist is flattering in all the right ways. Her tits—the ones I know taste so fucking sweet—are pushed up high, and she’s showing just enough cleavage to make my cock ache inside my dress pants but not enough to make me embarrass myself. The buttery-soft material swishes against her legs, stopping just short of hitting her knees, which are still red from last night’s activities. I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t love the sight.
“I feel entirely overdressed,” Stevie says.
“Nonsense,” I tell her, finally peeling my eyes from her body. Her dark hair is swept up into a bun. There are two braids, one on either side of her head, and a pair of earrings that perfectly match the necklace I got her dangle from her ears. “You look gorgeous.”
Her cheeks pinken, something I’d normally find cute, but something seems off. She seems off.
“Everything okay?” I ask her.
She gives one curt nod. “Fine.”
Except it sounds like nothing is fine at all. Just as I’m about to ask her to elaborate, my phone goes off once again. This time, I know the ringtone. I pull it from my pocket and don’t even bother looking at the name on the screen when I hit the green button.
“Mom?”
“Jacob! Where are you? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”
“Calm down. We’re on the way now.”
“Boy.” She tsks. “I swear, if you weren’t so damned big, I’d bend you over my knee and whoop your ass for telling me to calm down on my wedding day.”
I grin. “You’ve never spanked me.”
“Well, don’t make me start now. Just get here. I need my dude of honor.”
“We’re leaving now. Love you.”
“But never as much as I love you. Drive safe,” she rushes out quickly before ending the call.
I slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Is everything okay with your mom?” Stevie asks, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
“Oh yeah. Just her usual pre-wedding jitters. She does this every time. We’re good.”
Stevie gives me a small smile, and it’s nothing like the smiles she’s given me before. In fact, it reminds me entirely too much of the smiles she first gave me—forced and fake. I want to talk more about it, but we really are running out of time, so I hold my hand out to her.
“Ready?”
She nods, and instead of placing her hand in mine, she brushes past me like I’m not even there.
Between my mother and Stevie, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!”
David wraps his arms around my mother and dips her backward, kissing her harder than I ever want to see my mother kissed. Everyone erupts into cheers, and I paste on my best smile and clap along too.
She did it. She married her fourth husband. This one has to stick, doesn’t it?
They make their grand exit, and the bridal party follows suit. I catch Stevie’s eye on the way out and don’t miss when she swipes her fingers over her cheeks, brushing away tears.
Women and weddings, man. They always cry.
I don’t think anything could top David sobbing through his vows, though. He really loves my mom, which is great. I wish him the best.
We take a few photos—why my mom needs any more wedding pictures is beyond me—then we’re set free for the cocktail hour. I rented out the swankiest hotel the city has to offer as my wedding gift to my mother. She doesn’t know I also got her tickets for a three-week trip to Ireland for their honeymoon. They leave tomorrow, and I’m letting David be the one to give her the news later.
I’m stopped no less than five times as I make my way through the reception hall in pursuit of Stevie. If I know my mother, she’s placed us at the front table, which is where I’m hoping to find my date. After shaking hands with another of my mom’s favorite clients, a break in the crowd lets me know I’m right.
I stop for a moment to admire her as she fingers the straw in her cocktail, her other hand under her chin. She looks sad but beautiful. The urge to sweep her into my arms and swing her around the dance floor so everyone can see she’s mine is strong.
But I don’t. Instead, I slip into the chair next to her, startling her as it scrapes across the floor.
“Sorry,” I mutter, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She stiffens under me for a moment before relaxing.
“You okay?” I ask her for what feels like the millionth time tonight.
She’s been quiet since I showed up at her apartment. She didn’t even make any comment on the red light I definitely ran on the way here. Something’s bothering her, but I’m not sure what.
“Mhmm,” she answers, lifting her drink to her lips. She takes a long pull, then another. And one more until her glass is empty. She pushes her chair back. “I’m going to get a refill.”
I rise, ready to chase after her. “Stevie, wait. I—”
“There you are!” my mother calls out, shoving her way through the crowd. “My boy!”
In all her glory, my mother glides across the floor, her cream dress dragging behind her. I think of all the gowns I’ve seen her in, this one is my favorite. She looks beautiful with her gray-streaked hair twisted up in a bun and her makeup all done. She doesn’t look a day over thirty when she’s actually just two months shy of fifty.
“Hey, Mom.”
She presses a kiss to my cheek, no doubt leaving behind a smudge of lipstick, and eyes Stevie. “Is this her?”
I nod. “Mom, this is Stevie. Stevie, meet my mother, Loretta.”
“The famous Stevie Nicks!” Mom claps her hands together. “I’m so honored to meet you.”
“You’re honored to meet me?” Stevie grins. “I’m meeting Loretta Lynn—I’m the one who is honored.”
They laugh and hug like they’re old pals, and I’m incredibly curious why they’re calling each other names that definitely belong to famous musicians.
“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” Stevie tells her. “I’ve heard so much about you from Greer.”
“All good things, I hope.” Mom winks, then nudges me. “I’m truly so happy you came. When this one told me he was bringing a real live date, I nearly fell out of my salon chair. He always causes a ruckus at weddings, and I was relieved he was going to have someone to keep him in line.” My mother looks Stevie up and down. “I had no idea you’d be this gorgeous, though.”
Stevie blushes. “Thank you. You look stunning.”
“Oh, stop it.” My mother waves her off, but I know she loves the compliment. “How are you, dear? How’s your daughter adjusting to hockey?”
“She loves it. Greer’s been a fantastic coach.”
It’s the nicest thing Stevie’s said to me all evening, and I wish my mom would stick around so I could hear more compliments.
“Good. I’m so glad.” Mom squeezes Stevie’s hands. “You have my number, so if you ever need another pep talk, I’m just a call away.”
“Thanks, Loretta.”
“I better get back so we can make our grand entrance. I just had to come say hello to you first.”
Mom pats her cheek, then turns to me. I bend down so she can wrap her arms around me.
“You really do look beautiful, Mom,” I tell her, squeezing her tightly.
“I know I do.” I laugh as she pulls away, setting her hands on my cheeks. “Take care of her.” She lifts her brows. “You hear me?”
I nod. “I hear you.”
“Good. Love you, baby.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
“Hey, that’s my line!” She winks before gliding off into the crowd.
I turn back to Stevie, but she’s gone. I move through the groups of guests, hoping I don’t get stopped a million times before I reach the bar. I’m in luck because not a single soul stops me, but that high disappears when I see the scene in front of me.
Stevie’s talking to some guy.
Some guy who is leaning in closely as she throws her head back laughing.
Some guy who is about two seconds away from being thrown over the bar and having a bottle broken over his head.
I march toward them, sliding up right behind Stevie, leaving no space at all between us. Her ass fits perfectly against my cock, and if I’m not mistaken, she presses back into me.
“Stevie,” I say into her ear.
“Greer,” she mutters back. She doesn’t look away from the dead guy, but she does relax against me, and the dude doesn’t miss it.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were together.”
“Well, we are,” I tell him. “You can go now.”
He lifts his hands, then scuttles away.
Stevie whirls around the moment he’s gone, her baby blues full of fire.
“That was so rude, Greer.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Would you rather I call you asshole, then?”
“What is your problem?”
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing.”
I’m about to call her on her shit when the deejay comes over the speakers.
“Would everyone please make their way to their seats so we can introduce the newlyweds?”
Stevie shoves past me, heading back to the table. I wish it were anyone but my mother getting married right now so I could haul Stevie off to some coat closet and demand she tells me what’s wrong, but I can’t do that to my mom.
Instead, I follow my date and slide into the chair next to her. We clap and cheer as my mother and David are introduced, and I swear I catch Stevie wiping away another tear as they have their first dance. We sit through the speeches—my mother spares me from making one—and the dinner, not once talking to one another.
It’s not until the deejay announces that the members of the wedding party should kick off the dancing for the night that we even look at each other.
I rise and hold my hand out to my date. She looks at it for a moment, clearly considering leaving me in the dust, but eventually she slides her palm against mine.
I tug her against me as the music begins to play, relishing the way she feels pressed against me. She may be upset with me, but I don’t care. I can’t not touch her right now, not when she looks as gorgeous as she does, pouty lip and all.
“You know, everyone in this room can see that you’re upset with me,” I say softly. She grunts. “I just wish you’d tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”
She pulls back, looking up at me with raised brows. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes, I’m serious. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Dammit, Greer.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“No.”
I grit my teeth, my patience growing thinner by the second. “What did I do?”
She tries to pull away and run, but I don’t let her. If anything, I tug her even closer.
“No running. Talk to me.”
“You left!”
Now it’s my turn to pull back. “What?”
“Last night. You just left, after…”
“After my cock was in your mouth?”
Her cheeks darken. “Y-Yes. I thought…” She exhales a steadying breath. “I thought I was okay at first, fine with you leaving and me feeling used—but then I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay with it. I’m still not okay with it.”
“Stevie, I—”
“No, Greer.” She shakes her head, pushing out of my arms and backing away from me. I glance around. We’re definitely being watched by just about everyone in the room, including my mother, who has her brows raised in silent question.
I grab Stevie’s wrist, tugging her off the dance floor to go somewhere more private where this conversation is better had. The moment we’re alone, she yanks free of my grasp, her arms coming up to cover her chest. Her shoulders are hunched, and she looks sad…broken.
I hate it, and I hate even more that I caused it.
“I’m not that girl. You can’t just expect me to do…that and be okay. That’s not who I am.”
“I know that.” I take a tentative step toward her.
She moves away. “Really? Because you just left.”
“I know,” I say, moving closer again. She retreats once more. “But—”
“No buts, Greer. I—”
“Goddammit, Stevie, I couldn’t stay!”
Her eyes widen at my outburst, but they quickly fall to slits. “Really? That’s your big excuse? You couldn’t stay? Why not?”
“Because if I had stayed, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.” I prowl toward her.
She takes one step back for every step I take forward until she hits a wall. She’s trapped. She has nowhere to go. I lean down until my eyes are boring into hers.
“I would have fucked you, Stevie, and you weren’t ready for that.”
Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them as she blinks up at me in surprise.
“I couldn’t stay. It’s been a long time for you, and you deserved better than what I could have given you last night. You deserve what I want to give you tonight.”
“To…night?”
I nod. “I got us a room here.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and I plan to make very, very good use of it and the time we have together.”
She swallows. “Oh.”
I reach out, running the pad of my thumb along her cheek. “I’m sorry I just left. I should have said something. I should have…” I shake my head. “I’m not good with this stuff, Stevie. I don’t do this. I don’t…”
“Have fun?”
My brows wrinkle at her words. It’s what we said at the rink yesterday, and just like then, it feels wrong. It’s not the word I want to use to describe this thing between us, but it’s all I have.
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says again. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She nods. “Okay. I’m sorry I got upset. That was stupid, I just—”
“No. Don’t apologize. I’m the dick—you were right to be upset. I should have explained things better, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry for that.”
The truth is, last night, seeing Stevie on her knees for me…it awakened something inside of me. I don’t know what, but something just felt different. I’ve been in the same position before with a beautiful woman on her knees, but none of it felt familiar.
It was special. She was special. I knew if we were going to go any further, I had to make it something she was going to remember.
So, I left, and then I made arrangements for tonight and planned out all the things I want to do to her…if she’ll let me, of course.
“Do you want to go back to the wedding?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Do you want to go home?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She lifts her eyes, her long lashes casting shadows across her cheeks. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she sucks in a breath. Lets out a deep exhale.
“I’d like to see that room now, please.”
