Page 143 of Raise Me Up

“Oh, no. What did I miss?”

I’m already leaping out of bed, stripping off my t-shirt and shorts to replace them with yoga pants and a pale pink athletic top over a sports bra.

Liam laughs in that soft, low way that stirs desire at my core. “You haven’t missed anything. Hail wanted me to call and make sure you didn’t sleep through your alarm. He’s a hot mess.”

“Can you handle him?”

“You know I can.”

“Okay. I’ll check in with Zat the hotel.”

“Good plan. See you in a few hours.”

After he hangs up, I try to shake off the nerves for my twin brother.

God, is he really doing this?

Snatching my dress, strappy gold heels, and make-up bag, I rush to my car.

It’s an abnormally warm winter day. Perfectly overcast. If that’s not a sign that this wedding was meant to be, I don’t know what is.

After assuring the vendors know where to set up, I soak in my hard work. It’s a beautiful venue. Balcony doors offer stunning views of the Dallas skyline, serving as the backdrop for the ceremony.

I talked the hotel staff into hanging sheer white panels of fabric in the open doorways. Wildflowers decorate every surface, bringing a pleasant floral scent to the airy space. Outdoor furniture has been rearranged around elegant stone fire pits for roasting marshmallows. And there’s a dance floor under string lights that will glitter like a fairytale when the sun goes down.

Ugh. I’m not emotional. It’s only my twin getting married. The person I played shadow to for so many years. The sweet human who lifted my head when I was feeling down. Who became my shield from the cruel words of our parents.

I grab some sandwiches from the lobby, dropping them at the room where Liam is helping Hail get ready. Then I head toward Z’s room to deliver his lunch.

Ice-blue eyes open wide when Z answers his hotel room door. He’s here alone, no biological family left to claim him, but there are so many guests coming today that love and accept him as their own.

“Thank you,” Z says, easing his long arms around me. “Sorry for dropping a lot of this on you.”

“I was honored you asked me for help. I’m so happy for you.” I swipe away a rogue tear on my cheek and look him over. He’s dressed in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and a black bowtie. He’s got winged eyeliner on and dark red nail polish that suits him.

“You are unfairly pretty, Z. Now what is there left to do? Your hair?” I ask, reaching for the mess of unruly black curls falling down over his inky brows.

He lifts both hands in defense. “Um. It’s good.”

“You sure?”

His gaze drops to the floor as his cheeks turn bright red. “Hail likes it this way.”

“Oh, Z.” I hug him again around the waist. “How many times am I going to cry today?”

His laugh is a quiet thing. Almost like a whisper. “Probably not as much as Hail.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” I say, fixing his bowtie. “Call or text if you need me.”

He nods. “Thanks.”

I check in with Malek and Griff, too, but there’s no taming the chaos that surrounds them. Their hotel room reeks of weed and spilled vodka. Red solo cups dot every counter, along with enough half-eaten snacks to feed an army.

“You have to button the dress shirt all the way up,” Griff complains, approaching Malek with raised hands.

Malek slaps him away. “It doesn’t look good that way, and it’s uncomfortable.”

“It looks like shit if you put the tie on over an unbuttoned shirt.”