Page 54 of Not a Friend (Crescent Light #1)

Now

Even in a crowd the one I want to find is you.

K ieran was sitting on the bed when I emerged from the bathroom, streaming a football game on his laptop, which he muted the second he saw me.

The look on his face was an unfamiliar mix of trepidation and expectation. I’d denied him the opportunity to “make it up to me” in the way he wanted. He knew something was up.

I’d thrown on a pair of leggings and a sweater when I got out of the shower, not wanting to get ready for the ceremony until this conversation was had.

“Hey,” he said, stretching his long legs out.

“Hi.”

A beat of silence. “Everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“Look.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “About last night. ”

So, he’s willing to accept that he crossed a line. Good. Even if it won’t change the outcome.

“You don’t have to beat yourself up for not telling me about whatshisname. So you slept with him in college. It’s okay to be embarrassed about it; you fucked up. I wish you had told me, but I forgive you.”

My eyes widened in genuine disbelief. I never said being with Nate was a fuck up, and I never apologized for it.

Sure, I should have given Kieran the heads-up before this weekend—I accept that—but did he really think that was the only issue here?

Did he forget he put his hands on Nate and dragged me around the property like a rag doll?

And that wasn’t even including his snide comments, overdrinking, and possessiveness the last two days. Of course, he wouldn’t acknowledge those things. In his mind, none of that mattered.

He doesn’t know me. He’ll never be able to understand me on a soul-deep level, despite how good he is on paper.

It only encouraged me to say the next part with more confidence. “Kieran, this isn’t working.”

His eyes met mine. “What’s not working?”

“This. Us. I don’t know, I just…” Don’t back down now, Oli.

This is the right decision. “I don’t feel good about this anymore.

We can talk about it more later, but for tonight, it would be best if you didn’t come to the wedding.

We’re only here for one more night, so it is what it is, but when we get back to Boston, we should go our separate ways. ”

The words landed with finality, and a small bloom of pride appeared in my chest, even as I nervously studied his reaction. He looked like he was trying to solve a math equation in his head, eyes far away, darting left and right.

He must have come to some sort of conclusion because he suddenly sat a bit straighter .

Pulling his running shoes back on, he said, “You’re right. Let’s take some time, and we’ll talk later.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him that taking time wouldn’t change my decision, but within a matter of seconds, he stood on stiff legs and was out the door.

Silence filled the suite.

Okay, not how I pictured that going, but I guess I’ll leave him to cope however he needs to?

I didn’t have time to dwell on what he was doing or how he was taking the news; I had a ceremony to get ready for.

The golf cart came to a halt at the base of the winding path to the ceremony space.

The valet offered his hand to me as I maneuvered off the cart, and I held on to it for dear life until I regained my balance.

Not rolling my ankle in these heels was perhaps going to be the biggest struggle of the evening.

A refreshing breeze gently blew through my hair, a perfect complement to the warm sunshine that poked through puffy clouds. This was it. Gemma was about to get married to the love of her life in the most beautiful venue on the most beautiful day, and I was lucky to witness it.

The ceremony space overlooked the sprawling vineyard hills. Rows of white garden chairs lined either side of the aisle, so covered with champagne-colored rose petals you couldn’t even see the muted green grass underneath.

At the end of the aisle, the massive wooden archway was equally cloaked in roses of white and champagne, orchids, and whimsical greenery.

It was breathtakingly perfect. Much of the seating had already been claimed by the time I arrived, but luckily, I spotted a half-empty row toward the front and slid in.

Sitting alone was a little humbling, but I didn’t dwell on it as I did a quick once-over of the crowd, admiring everyone’s wedding attire. My eyes caught almost immediately on a familiar figure.

Nate stood across the aisle from me and a few rows back, glancing around like he was looking for someone—Jared, probably.

He looked a little out of place, standing tall and lean in a navy-colored suit.

His hair was swept back off his forehead—a style I’d never seen on him before, but it looked good.

Some might say too good. His eyes caught mine as he combed the crowd, and my heart flipped when he did a little double take, holding my gaze for only a second before giving me a close-mouthed smile and continuing his search.

He always did have a way of making public situations still feel intimate. Even if for only a moment. I faced forward again before a blush had the chance to settle in.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice behind me said, sliding onto the seat next to me.

Kieran was done up in his suit, looking fresh out of a GQ photoshoot. I watched him get comfortable, my eyes growing wide.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked sidelong at me, adjusting his sleeves under his suit jacket. “I flew out here to attend a wedding. I’m attending the wedding.”

How he managed to shower, dress, and still be there in time was beyond me. He was still gone when I left the suite.

I scoffed incredulously. “But, I—”

“You look hot, babe.” He eyed me from head to toe, or as well as he could while sitting .

Am I in the freaking Twilight Zone or did Kieran totally ignore me telling him not to come to the wedding?

My stomach went into knots as the first notes from the string quartet filled the air.

Being dumbfounded and frustrated would have to wait.

I’ll be damned if anything spoils this memory.

A second later, Grant, the handsome devil, emerged from the side of the building behind us.

He was led by Gemma's uncle, who was officiating, and I couldn't take my eyes off his sweetly anxious face as they took their places in front of the floral archway.

He smiled nervously, searching the crowd.

When his face lit up, having found who he was looking for, I followed his gaze to the other side of the aisle.

Jared grinned broadly up at his brother from his place next to Nate, shooting him a thumbs-up.

“You didn’t wear the yellow one?” Kieran whispered into my ear.

I bristled. I almost wore the yellow dress I’d packed, the one that he liked best, but when I was getting ready, I remembered I liked the black one more.

Shooting a glance his way, I shushed him.

All too quickly, Gemma’s uncle instructed the crowd to stand and turn to await the bride’s arrival. A quick glance to the right and my eyes connected with the same deep blue gaze for a fleeting moment before we both looked away again. Nate’s profile showed off his flexing and unflexing jaw.

Maybe he’s struggling to focus as much as I am.

In an empty space between wedding guest bodies, I caught a glimpse of the bride, and my breath caught.

She. Was. A. Goddess.

Gemma’s golden hair was perfectly placed in thick, old Hollywood waves around her shoulders like an angelic halo.

Her dress was timeless, sculpted to her body in all the right places, and flared modestly at the bottom.

The train ruffled the rose petals at her feet as she glided down the aisle.

Surely, she was a deity of some sort, an otherworldly being of unspeakable beauty and grace.

The kind of woman that men of myth and legend waged war over.

Grant’s face told me he thought the exact same thing as it took on a dreamlike expression, and silent tears streamed onto his cheeks.

Damn right, you better cry, I thought, silently threatening him because that’s just what best friends do.

The sight of him reaching out to take her hand, a single tear still streaking down his cheek, was enough to make me choke up as well.

When Kieran took my hand and squeezed, I didn’t squeeze it back.

The ceremony was absolutely perfect, just like Gemma deserved.

There was no bridal party, no special readings or songs, no extra frills or dedications.

Just two people who were completely, madly, ridiculously in love with each other, vowing to love each other for the rest of their lives. That was all they needed.

The look on Grant’s face after he kissed her rivaled that of someone who’d just won the lottery, an Olympic Gold Medal, and the Super Bowl all in one. I thought for sure he was about to scream, “I’m going to Disneyland!”

I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, but he settled on a triumphant punch to the air instead.