Page 85 of False Start

That I wasn’t going anywhere.

My stomach tightened when I finally left her and ran for the elevators, ready to put on a show for the paparazzi and give her enough time to sneak out the back.

What’s next for us?

I’d had such a mixture of emotions when she’d swung back into my life — anger being the most prevalent one.

Now, I could barely feel that rage at all.

She’d hurt me — that was the stone-cold truth of it. But now that I had her back in my life, I found myself less and less inclined to dredge up the past.

Maybe her parents had pressured her into coming to my house that day.

Maybe they’d seen my father hit me and didn’t feel safe with their daughter being around us.

Maybe they thought I’d become the same man my father was.

MaybeMadelyndidn’t have a choice at all.

I’d been so young, so ruled by my anger then…

But I could choose to let it go now.

I could choose to start fresh.

I couldn’t wait to talk to Madelyn after the wedding, to set it all straight and figure out where her head was.

But for now, I had a performance to make.

I walked through the lobby with a cocky smile, my shoulders squared, and a swagger in my step. And when the doors slid open, I was blinded by a blur of flashing lights.

“You all waiting for me?” I said loud enough for every one of them to hear.

And then I posed for pictures and answered questions, hamming it up the way I used to in college until I was sure enough time had passed for Madelyn to get out safely.

A half hour later, I was sitting next to Madelyn in the fourth row of white chairs facing the Rocky Mountains with the sun dipping behind their peaks.

And I was doing my best not to sob like a baby.

I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me, but the lump in my throat was all I could focus on as I watched Clay lose his shit when Giana appeared at the end of the aisle.

Holden was the only other one with him, as he’d agreed to get certified and be their officiant. And evenhelooked emotional as he squeezed Clay’s shoulder, a smirk painting his lips like he knew exactly what our teammate was feeling in this moment.

Considering he’d just had his own wedding a few months ago, I supposed he really did.

“Alright,” Holden said. “Everyone on your feet for our beautiful bride.”

We all stood, Giana and her father paused at the edge of the aisle. The song changed, shifting into an instrumental version of “New Year’s Day’ by Taylor Swift, and then Giana started walking again.

She was gorgeous.

Her dark, curly hair was framing her face in a wild halo, her freckles more pronounced under the glow of the setting sun. She wore a cream-colored lacy dress with dramatic sleeves. It was fitted right under her bust, which accented the slight baby bump she had.

It was wild to remember her as the soft-spoken, shy little thing who had tried to wrangle us on the field freshman year. Watching her grow into the spunky, powerful agent she was now was something I felt lucky to have witnessed.

When I looked at Clay again, it was just in time to see him lose the fight against his emotions.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as his shoulders shook, Holden smirking behind him and clapping him on the back. When he finally gained a little composure, Clay looked up again, his eyes red and blotchy as he watched Giana walk toward him.