Page 46 of Mr. Brightside
I whip my head around to look at him. Is he serious? I squint at him in question, urging him to go on.
“If we text them now, we can put our phones on airplane mode and not be subjected to everyone hounding us,” he explains.
Oh.
Right.
He has a valid point, actually. We’ve been planning all along to send a text to establish an equal playing field among our friends and coworkers. There will be talk—so much talk it makes me cringe to think about—but this allows us to control the narrative, avoid the initial reactions, and give everyone the information at the same time.
After taking a moment to consider the scenario and possible fallout, I nod. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Is it weird that Tori is one of my closest friends, and Rhett’s your best friend, and we just got married without telling them?”
Jake sighs. “Sort of. Rhett will call the second he sees the message.”
“And you’ll answer?” I challenge. If the whole point of the text is to give everyone time to process, maybe it’s better if he really does ignore all follow-up questions.
He cocks one eyebrow. “Ialwaysanswer for him.”
Oh.
Jake’s loyalty to his best friend stirs up an unexpected pang of envy. The logical part of my brain knows I have nothing to be jealous about where Rhett is concerned. But my baser instinct still gifts me with a surge of bitterness I didn’t expect.
I’ve never been a jealous person, let alone possessive. I honestly have no idea why this greedy, envious side of me springs into action with Jake. I was insecure when I was younger, especially in middle school and then again when I came out. But this outright jealous thing is new.
“I don’t really want to have to explain things just yet,” I admit on an exhale.
“Then don’t. I’ll send the text, and you turn your phone off. It’s better to give everyone time to process and cool off anyway. Just because I’m going to take Rhett’s call doesn’t mean you have to answer to anyone.” Jake stands up and stretches his arms overhead, exposing a strip of tanned, taut stomach that I want to trace with my tongue. “Anyone but me, that is,” he adds when he catches me staring.
Damn. I can’t wait to get this honeymoon started.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Jake offers me his hand and pulls me out of my seat, then unlocks the screen on his phone. He flips the camera around, slings his left arm around my shoulders, then tucks his chin against my neck so we’re both in the frame. His hand is spread wide across my chest, the brand-new wedding ring unmissable on his finger.
“Hold up your hand, baby. Let’s make sure they know you’re mine.”
We both smile as he takes a few shots. Then he proceeds to squeeze, lick, and bite me until I’m squirming and laughing as he takes a dozen more pictures.
“One more,” he whispers before resting his head against mine, genuine affection clear in his eyes on screen.
That one is my favorite.
A few seconds later, he shows me the picture he plans to send, as well as the message to go with it.
Jake: Yo. Life update. I found myself a husband, and we’re heading to Florida for a quick getaway. We’re literally about to board the plane, then we’ll be preoccupied as soon as we land because #honeymoon. We’ll explain everything next time we see you. About our marriage, that is. NOT about the honeymoon. ;)
I tentatively nod my approval after I read the message three times. It’s not what I would say—but I don’t have any other suggestions.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter as I watch him hit send.
He smirks with that saucy glint in his eye. “You mean here goeseverything.”
Chapter 21
Jake
Iblowoutalong breath as I wash my hands in the huge-ass bathroom attached to the master bedroom. We’re staying in one of the resort’s private, two-story, beachside villas with uninhibited ocean views and complete privacy.
The place has this modern, beachy vibe with its whitewashed wood and touches of turquoise, teal, and coral. I felt relaxed the moment I stepped into the open-air lobby and spotted the ocean beyond the seagrass barrier wall. Once we checked in, we walked hand in hand down the pier to our villa. I’ll never forget the look on Cory’s face when we walked through the front door of our home away from home for the next few days.