Page 2 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Molly

I am seriously going to vomit.

All over this gorgeous dress that cost me a fucking fortune.

I’m standing in the Metropolitan, on the sixty-seventh floor of the Sears Tower. Well, Willis Tower, but I don’t know anyone who calls it that.

I’m in a curtained-off area behind guests seated in rows facing the big windows at the far end of the room. A pale runner lines the patterned carpet up the middle of the rows of chairs, candles and flowers bordering the runner.

My mom and dad are with me, their faces lined with concern.

“Are you okay, honey?” Mom whispers to me.

“Fine.” I grit my teeth and straighten my shoulders.

Music wafts from the front of the room, the songs I carefully chose months ago for this occasion. Right now, it’s “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” played by Vitamin String Quartet.

Yeah, I stopped believin’ last night.

I press a hand to my stomach. I can do this.

Steve’s best man, James, appears, ready to take Mom down the aisle. She gives me a shaky smile and a kiss on the cheek, then takes James’ arm.

I turn to Dad. Our eyes meet. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I say inexplicably.

His forehead furrows.

The song changes to the “Glasgow Love Theme” from the movie Love, Actually. I’ve always loved that movie. Yes, I’m a total romantic. Or, I used to be.

The music is beautiful and evocative. Dad takes my arm, and we move into the opening. The crowd stands, all heads turning toward us, beaming.

A shaky breath lifts my breasts beneath the off-the-shoulder dress. I raise my chin and stare straight ahead at my fiancé as Dad and I slowly walk down the aisle.

Steve smiles, standing next to his groomsmen. My three bridesmaids are on the other side of the aisle in their champagne-colored sequined dresses, holding small bouquets of white peonies. My own bouquet is bigger, with soft pink roses and peonies among the white ones, and sprays of pale greenery.

Steve’s so handsome. Clean cut, with short, dark blond hair, his athletic body perfect in the black tuxedo, he stands with his hands loosely clasped in front of him, his eyes focused on me.

My heart hammers against my breastbone and my knees wobble with every step I take. I feel like this isn’t real.

The music reaches a crescendo as we arrive at the front of the room. The officiant we’ve hired for the ceremony smiles benevolently at me as Dad releases my arm, kisses my cheek, and steps away. I swallow and stand next to Steve.

Damn, this song! Pressure builds behind my eyes and cheekbones. Why couldn’t this be the moment I’d imagined when I chose this beautiful music that I love so much? The piece ends with tinkling piano notes and soaring violins, and I nearly lose it.

I catch my best friend’s eye. Grace’s mouth is tight, her eyes shadowed. She gives me a tiny nod, and I know she’s telling me she’s with me whatever I do.

“Friends, we have been invited here today to share with Molly and Steven a very important moment in their lives. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as wife and husband.”

I don’t hear much more over the buzzing in my ears. My hands are sweaty, my skin clammy. Then I’m called on to say my vows.

Grace hands me my phone.

With shaky fingers, I unlock it and reveal the screen ready for me to read.

Facing Steve, I begin. “I’m supposed to say something now about our love and the promises we make to each other.

” I suck in a breath. “But I’m not going to do that.

Instead, I’m going to read the text messages that Steve has been exchanging with a woman named Claire. ”

Stunned silence falls over the room. I feel Steve tense, and I flick my eyes up to his.

He stares at me, his eyebrows pulled together, his mouth open.

I lift my own eyebrows then resume my reading.

“?‘I can’t wait to be with you again. After the wedding, things will settle down to normal and we can be together again.’? ” I scroll up.

“ ‘Your body is incredible. I love making you come.’ ” Another one…

‘I love you. I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. ’ ”

Shocked gasps fill the air.

“What are you doing?” Steve whispers, trying to grab my phone.

I step back, set my jaw and keep going. “ ‘I only w-wish Molly could give a blow job like you do.’ ” I pause.

“This one’s from Claire. ‘Baby, you know I love your big cock.’ Then there are the pictures.

A selfie of the two of them. A topless photo of Claire.

And a lovely dick pic from Steve. Also from Steve: ‘I want to smack your ass and fuck you hard from behind.’ ”

I’m really shaking now. Grace steps closer and slides her arm around my waist.

I look up at Steve again. “Obviously, I can’t marry you today.” I turn my head toward the guests. “I’m sorry, everyone, there isn’t going to be a w-wedding.”

Pandemonium breaks out, a muted roar rising as everyone starts talking, some rising from their seats.

I turn to my parents, who had no idea this was coming. “I’m sorry.”

The shocked expression on their faces nearly takes my knees out.

Grace holds onto me. “We’re with you, Mol,” she whispers.

“I need to get out of here.”

“Of course.”

We bolt down the aisle, threading our way through people. I vaguely register shocked, concerned faces but I try not to look at anyone, my humiliation complete. We make our way to the dressing room where we prepared for the ceremony not long ago.

My other two bridesmaids, Allison and Brielle, follow us, locking the door behind us.

I head straight for the champagne bottles on the counter, picking up one we were drinking earlier that’s still half full. I lift it to my lips and drink straight from the bottle.

Grace is beside me, rubbing my shoulder. “Attagirl,” she murmurs. “You did it.”

“I did.” I swipe my fingers beneath my nose. “Why do I want to cry?”

“Because your heart is broken.” She leans her head against mine. “I’m so sorry. That ratfucking bastard.”

“I want to throat-punch him,” Brielle says fiercely. “In fact, I think I might go do that.”

“I’m coming with you.” Allison scowls. “Motherfucker.”

Before I can tell them not to bother, they’ve disappeared. I grimace at Grace and sink into an armchair, clutching my bottle of bubbly.

“I’d like to castrate him,” she says, grabbing another bottle and a flute. “But I don’t want to do jail time.”

I guzzle more champagne, the bubbles pleasantly stinging my nose and throat. “He’s not worth it.”

I lean my head back and close my eyes. Only twenty-four hours ago, I totally thought Steve was worth it. Worth marrying. Worth loving.

What a fool I was.

And what a fool I’ve been, not to know what was going on behind my back.

“How could he?” I whisper, my throat squeezing up.

“I don’t know. I’d really like to hear his explanation. Because there is no explanation that’s good enough for cheating. For fuck’s sake.” Grace shakes her head and sips her champagne, more ladylike than I am right now despite her language. “That’s just bullshit. And who the fuck is Claire?”

“I don’t know.” My bottom lip quivers. “She’s pretty and she has great boobs.” I look down at my modest chest.

“If that’s all he cares about, then he really is a dickhead.”

Someone knocks on the door.

We look at each other.

“Molly? Are you in there? Open this door!”

Steve.

I frown. “I thought Allison and Brielle were dealing with him.”

“I’ll fucking deal with him.” Grace jumps up and stalks over to the door in her spiky heels. “Get fucked, Steve!” she shouts through the door.

I actually snort out a laugh.

“I love you,” I whisper to her.

We hear more voices—female voices. Another male voice. My parents. There’s a lot of yelling and I catch a few swear words.

Grace rolls her eyes and sets down her glass. “I’ll be back.”

She disappears out the door, and I leap up to lock it again.

I’m alone.

I hear Grace telling everyone to go away and give me my space.

“Especially you, asshole,” comes quite clearly through the door.

I hear more male voices. Maybe Steve’s friends.

They won’t break the door down, will they?

They’re all hockey players, big and strong, and have been known to get into the odd fisticuffs.

The voices fade away as my girls take care of things. I feel bad about Mom and Dad. Luckily, they didn’t pay for much of the wedding; Steve did, since he’s loaded. That’s not why I was marrying him, just to be clear. I don’t care about money. I thought I was marrying for love.

My heart contracts sharply, the pain stealing my breath.

Love .

What. The. Fuck.

I lift the champagne bottle and finish it off.

Standing in the middle of the room, I can see my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. I love this dress. It’s a princess dress, with a full skirt and beaded bodice. I felt like a princess when I tried it on, and I couldn’t wait to feel like a princess wearing it in front of Steve.

I look down at the ring on my hand. I love my ring, too. I slip it off my finger and tuck it into my little beaded purse. I’ll give it back to Steve. Maybe he can give it to fucking Claire.

I’d like to give it to Claire. Right between the eyes.

Another knock on the door startles me. I turn and regard it suspiciously. It better not be Steve again.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Jax.”

I blink.

Jax Wynn is one of Steve’s friends and teammates. But he’s also my friend. My tequila-drinking, trivia-playing buddy. Biting my lip, I cross the room and unlock the door. I crack it open and peer out. “State your business.”

His lips quirk. “Are you okay?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m not okay!”

He winces. “I know. I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

“Did Steve send you?”

He frowns. “No.”

“Okay.” I open the door wider to let him in, then lock it again.

“I saw your bridesmaids ripping into Steve,” Jax says. “I can’t believe what just happened.”

I sigh and move to the counter where the champagne bottles are. The open ones are all empty. I pick up a full one and peel off the foil. Then I turn to Jax. “Can you open this?”

He takes the bottle, grabs a small towel and easily removes the cork with a pop. He looks for a glass, but I seize the bottle and take a swig.

He scratches the back of his neck. “You look beautiful. If that helps at all.”

“It doesn’t really, but thanks.”

“Yeah.” He sits in one of the chairs, resting his elbows on his knees. “How did you find out?”

“Someone sent me screen shots of the texts last night.”

“This Claire girl?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know who else would know or be able to do that. Unless someone got Steve’s phone. It doesn’t matter.”

“That was…gutsy.”

I nod slowly. “Probably stupid. I wanted everyone to know what an asswipe he is, but now everyone knows what a loser I am.” One corner of my mouth dips.

“What? Loser? You’re not a loser. He cheated on you.”

“Because I don’t give blow jobs as good as Claire.”

“Christ.” He rubs his face.

“Also, my boobs aren’t as big. In fairness, though, he may love making her come, but he wasn’t that good at it with me.”

Jax chokes.

I drink more champagne. Feeling a little woozy. That’s good though.

I sit again, my skirt spread all around me. “Did you know?” I ask quietly.

Jax’s mouth pinches up. “No,” he says shortly.

“I just don’t understand.”

“Me either. Hand over that bottle.”

I comply with a wry smile, watching as he lifts the bottle to his lips. His throat works as he takes several swallows.

“I need to get out of here.” I stand and look around the elegantly appointed dressing room.

Jax stands too, looking faintly alarmed. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I can’t go home. My apartment’s empty.” My lip wobbles again. “I just moved in with Steve last weekend. And I can’t go there. I don’t want to see him again.”

“I think you’re going to have to see him at some point.”

“No.” I firm my lips and cross my arms. “Well, maybe. But not now.”

“Want me to go find your bridesmaids?”

“No. I just want to disappear.” Then I sigh. “I don’t even have a car here.”

“Uh…”

“Can you give me a ride?” I meet his eyes pleadingly.

“I don’t have a car either.”

“Shit.”

“We can get a taxi.”

“I guess.”

“But where? Your parents’ place?”

“I don’t want to face them either. Oh God.” I close my eyes briefly. “Can we go to your place?”

His eyes bug out. “What?”

“That’s perfect. Nobody will find me there.” I grab onto his arm, distantly noting the size and firmness of his biceps. “Please, Jax.”