“You really do look amazing.” I sidle up to the bride, touching her arm.
Sabrina looks over at me, her smile rueful. “Thanks. I feel like everyone is staring at me.”
“They are.” I grin. “I hate to inform you, but they’d be staring at you even if you weren’t wearing that dress. You’re hot.”
My gaze drifts across the room to where Dean is congregated with a dozen of his former teammates. The comments he’d made earlier about seeing me in a wedding dress are still troubling me. He knows that’s not something I want right now. Or at least he should know. I made it more than clear that marriage and babies aren’t on my agenda when we discussed it last year. But Dean is impulsive. He’s the kind of guy who might see Sabrina and Tucker basking in marital bliss and decide to spontaneously propose to me.
“What do you think they’re whispering about over there?” I nod toward the group of boys. Their conversation looks intense.
“Hockey, probably.” She takes a second to study them, then shakes her head. “No, they’re talking about sex.”
“Ha! How can you tell?”
“Fitzy’s face. He looks like he wants to wither away and die on the spot.”
I follow her gaze and laugh again. Yeah, Fitz does tend to get that pained look when he’s forced into conversations about topics he’d rather keep private. Usually it’s Hollis who drags him in. I shift my gaze. Yup, Mike Hollis seems to be doing the bulk of the talking, which is never good. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed his wife couldn’t make it tonight. I would’ve loved to meet the woman who married Mike Hollis. She either has the patience of a saint, or she’s as cuckoo bananas as he is. Summer used to live with her and claims it’s the latter.
“Have you seen Hannah?” I ask, searching the crowded ballroom. My best friend has been hard to find tonight. And she hasn’t been entirely herself since I arrived in Boston. When I was doing her makeup earlier, she was so distracted that at one point she forgot where we were going tonight.
“I think I saw her heading for the restrooms,” Sabrina says.
“Okay. I’m gonna track her down and try to get her onto the dance floor. Be right back.” I’m hoping I might be able to get Hannah to sing something too. I’m sure the band would be happy to let her, and I know Tucker would love it.
Outside the ballroom, I welcome the silence. A nice reprieve from the continuous hum of noise and buzz of voices at the reception. As I smooth out the hem of my dress, I catch a glimpse of Logan and Grace standing against a pillar in the wide lobby area. Canoodling, as gossip columnists would say. They haven’t spotted me yet, and I’m about to say hello when their voices carry in my direction. What I hear stops me short.
“Should we get outta here soon, Mrs. Logan?”
Um.
What?
“You’re never going to get tired of saying that, are you?” Grace is laughing.
“Never.” He smacks a kiss on her lips. “Mrs. Logan.”
Yup. Didn’t imagine it the first time.
I shoot forward like a rocket. “I’m sorry—but…WHAT?” My shocked voice echoes in the cavernous lobby.
They break apart guiltily as I march toward them. I move so fast, I nearly trip on my stilettos. I can’t function. Or think straight. My mouth keeps opening and closing as the implications settle.
“Why does he keep calling you that?” I ask Grace. “Oh my God. Did you guys—”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “Come! Let’s go powder our noses!” Then she grabs my arm and practically drags me away.
I glance over my shoulder to find Logan grinning sheepishly. He shrugs at me, then winks. That’s all I need. Holy shit. Holy shit.
“You guys got married?” I exclaim as we burst into the bathroom. Fortunately, it’s empty.
“No,” Grace says.
I narrow my eyes at her.
“Yes,” Grace says.
“Oh my God. How? When?”
Her light-brown eyes focus everywhere else but on me. She pretends to admire the stack of linen towels next to one of the ornate sinks.
“When?” I repeat.
“Over New Year’s,” she confesses.
“What!” I shriek. “You got married four months ago and didn’t tell anyone?” Something terrible then occurs to me. “Wait, does everyone else know and they’ve just kept it a secret from me and Dean?”
Grace is quick to reassure me. “Nobody knows except us. We didn’t want to break it to my dad before graduation. He would freak if he thought I wasn’t fully concentrating on school.”
Stunned, I sweep my gaze over Grace’s girl-next-door features and tentative smile. She’s the perfect match for Logan, yes, but she’s two years younger than him. And they’re married?
“So you two just…eloped?” I’m utterly dumbfounded.
“Sort of? We didn’t plan to. It just happened.”
“It just happened,” I echo. “How does something like that ‘just happen’?”
“I mean, we’d discussed marriage before and realized neither of us really wanted a wedding. His parents can’t even be in the same room, so Logan didn’t want to be in a position where he was forced to choose. And then over the holidays, we wound up at this bed-and-breakfast in Vermont that was owned by a pastor. And not only does he officiate weddings, but he managed to get us a last-minute marriage license because the town clerk is part of his flock, and it was like, serendipity. Is that the word? I hate that word.” She’s blushing so hard, even the freckles on her nose look redder. “Anyway, I have zero regrets. Neither does he. We’re forever.”
Emotion clogs my throat and stings my eyes. I’ve always been a sappy romantic. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” I wail.
“You have to promise not to say anything, Allie. We’re not ready to tell anybody, not until after graduation.”
“I promise,” I say, using the pads of my index fingers to delicately wipe my tears. “It’ll stay between us—”
A loud retching noise suddenly echoes in the bathroom.
“—and whoever’s throwing up in there,” I finish.
Grace pales. She shoots a panicky look at the last stall in the row. I’d been flipping out so hard when she’d dragged me in here, I hadn’t even noticed that closed door. I assumed we were alone.
“Everything okay in there?” I call at the stall.
There’s a long pause, then, “Yeah, all good. Give me a second.”
It’s Hannah.
She appears a moment later, still clad in the green sheath dress I’d picked out for her today after Dean informed her if she wore black to a wedding, she was dooming the bride and groom to an eternity of morbid misery. I don’t think that’s a thing, but it succeeded in convincing Hannah to add some color into her life. The dress is the same shade of green as her eyes, which are currently lined with fatigue as she approaches the wall of sinks and mirrors.
“How much did you hear?” Grace sighs.
Hannah offers a wry smile. “All of it.”
She places her cupped hands beneath the automatic faucet and fills them with water. She proceeds to rinse out her mouth before her eyes find ours in the mirror again.
“You okay?” I fret.
She slowly shakes her head. “I’m starting to think no.”
A knot forms in my stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“I might need a…um…pregnancy test.”
Silence crashes over us. It lasts about a second before my loud gasp reverberates in the air.
Grace purses her lips. “I’m pretty sure this was an episode of Friends. I’ve been watching reruns.”
My gaze instantly drops to Hannah’s stomach even though the rational part of my brain knows that even if she is pregnant, she wouldn’t be showing yet.
Hannah catches where my eyes went and fixes me with a stern look. “Don’t say anything to Dean.” She turns to Grace. “Or Logan. Please. They’ll tell Garrett in a heartbeat, and I haven’t even taken a test yet. For all I know, it’s a false alarm.”
“How late are you?” Grace asks.
Hannah bites her lip.
“How late?” I press.
“Three weeks.”
I gasp again.
“Seriously, I don’t want Garrett knowing anything until I take a test,” Hannah says firmly. “Neither of you are allowed to say a word.”
“Neither of you are allowed to say a word about my thing either.” Grace’s expression is equally severe.
“But…” I sputter.
“Not a word until further notice,” Hannah orders, while Grace nods in agreement.
I just stand there, gaping at the two of them.
This wedding reception is chock full of HUGE NEWS, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone about it until further notice? Not even Dean?
This is my worst nightmare.
