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“… ready?” Ali’s voice tears me away from my wandering thoughts.

I give my head a little shake, bringing myself back to the present. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you were ready. Theodore wants Lexi and Elle to practice walking down the aisle one more time. He’s convinced they will go rogue and do their own thing. Could you take them down? I’m still doing my makeup,” Ali asks, pressing powder onto her cheeks. Theodore is the overbearing wedding planner, and he’s fussed all morning about making sure Ria’s daughters walk correctly down the aisle and don’t mess up his vision.

“Sure, come on, girls,” I call, zipping up my makeup bag. I give myself another quick look in the mirror. My lips are painted a crimson red, not my usual color, but the makeup artist insisted it would make my brown eyes pop, and compliment my dark hair and the olive green satin bridesmaid dress I’m wearing, and she’s right. I don’t hate what I see in the mirror. But maybe, just for today, I can lean in to being who I want to be. Take a little risk, be comfortable in my skin, and not worry about trying to be someone I’m not.

The wedding ceremony went off without a hitch. Lexi and Elle walked down the aisle like little angels, Jack and Ria declared their love for one another in front of their loved ones and now listening to Jack speak about his wife and watching the way he looks at her hasn’t left a dry eye in the house.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Lawson,” Harry yells. It’s been filled with cream roses and candles, and it feels whimsical and romantic. As one, we repeat his words and raise our glasses to Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. I take a sip of my champagne, the bubbles tickling the back of my throat as I drain my glass.

“Woah, careful. I was hoping you’d make it to 10 pm before I had to carry you up to bed,” Brad’s voice teases beside me. I choke and reach for my napkin, covering my mouth to prevent spraying the table. Brad looks devilishly handsome in his black tux. He’s undone his bow tie, and it hangs loosely around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt open just enough to get a peek of the dark tattoos that I know decorate his entire body. His beard is a little thicker these days and his dark hair falls perfectly.

My mind drifts back to last weekend when I woke up in his bed, his body tangled with mine; how good it felt to be held by him, like the most natural thing in the world. My body heats at the memory, and I reach for my glass of water. I’ve always been physically affectionate with my friends, but men? That’s a different story. But Brad has always been the exception. I know there isn’t an expectation from him. I feel comfortable in his presence. He has a protective aura around him. He’s a walkingcontradiction. He looks like he would kill you and keep you safe all in the same breath.

“Hey, that was one time in Vegas,” I protest, needing to pull back the focus to his comment and not my burning desire to mount him.

“Actually, I’ve carried you up to bed four times now.” He holds up his hand, signaling with his fingers. “Chris and Nancy’s wedding shower, their wedding, Jack’s birthday, and Vegas… but who’s counting?” His tone is playful as he gives me a wink that could melt your panties off.

“I…” Lost for words, I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking of something to say.

“Aww, Gabs, he’s your hero.” Ali giggles behind her champagne. I glare at her through the table centerpiece and she holds her hand up in surrender.

The champagne must be working its way through my system because a confidence I don’t usually possess falls from me. “I can handle my drink just fine, thank you very much. I don’t need a hero, not tonight.”

It turns out I absolutely do need a hero. I reached my limit about four drinks ago. I hug the toilet bowl, willing my body to either expel the alcohol from my body or let me live.

Nothing comes, so I stand on unsteady feet and make my way to the basin, washing my hands and then making my way back to the main ballroom. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, my steps faltering, and I hit the wall. Giggles burst from me as I’m scooped up by strong hands.

“You okay there, Gabs?” a male voice asks. I turn to see who my savior is.

“Noah,” I slur as I look at Ria's brother through glazed eyes. He looks like Ria, but his jaw is more defined and his hair short in a military-style buzz cut.

“Yes, that’s me,” he says playfully. “Do you want some help walking back?”

“I don’t need a hero.” My words sound even more slurred this time.

Jesus, Gabby, get it together.

“I know you don’t, but I’m going to help you anyway, okay?” Noah snickers and walks us toward the ballroom.

“Okay, but don’t tell the others, okay? Between you and me, I’ve had too many drinks,” I whisper and then proceed to hiccup.

“You would never know. You’re hiding it well,” he teases.

“Thanks,” I say, a little louder than required, and hiccup again.

Noah pushes us through the double doors. The sound of loud chatter and faint music fill my ears and the scent of liquor has my stomach rolling.

“I need to sit down,” I declare, unwrapping myself from Noah’s hold.

“I’ll get you some water,” he says, before he heads over towards the bar, where I can just about make out the back of Ali and Brad. I stumble toward some chairs, and the need to lay down takes over. I drag two chairs together and lay across them.

This feels nice. I’m just resting my eyes till Noah gets back.

My eyes flutter close and just as I drift into a peaceful slumber, cedarwood surrounds me and a voice I’d be able to pick from the noise in a crowded room says, “Come on, Mia cara, let’s get you to bed.”

Chapter Fourteen