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“That was something,” she laughs. “It’s almost like you’re a superstar or something.” She nudges me, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

I laugh, still a little stunned by the attention. “You have no idea. Welcome to my world.”

The Uber pulls up to the hotel, and I can’t help but chuckle when I see another Mrs. Roper convention going on at the front. “Who the heck are they?” Avery asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

I laugh again, shaking my head. “Old seventies show. You wouldn’t get it.”

“If you say so,” she replies, though I can tell she’s still a little puzzled.

As I step inside the hotel, the memories of Gabby flood back, and I can’t help but smile.

We had such an amazing weekend together, despite the strange circumstances.

I glance around the lobby, suddenly expecting to see Cass, which is ridiculous.

According to social media, his wedding’s been postponed, so why would he be here?

Postponed.

Fuck.

I really need to talk to Gabby.

I check my phone, but there’s no message from her. She must be buried in her designs, lost in the rhythm of her work. I shake my head, trying to shake the unease. After we check in, Avery heads off to her room, and I make my way to mine.

As soon as I drop my bag on the bed, my phone pings, and I reach for it with a mix of hope and impatience. It’s a message from Rip.

Rip : Let’s hit the strip.

I laugh at the peach emoji—Rip always knows how to make me smile—but let’s be real. There will be no peaches for me tonight.

Me : On my way.

I shoot Gabby a quick message to let her know I’m out with Rip, and my heart gives a little flutter. Look at me, checking in with the woman I love. I don’t hate it.

After sending it, I head downstairs and find Rip waiting for me in the lobby.

We share a quick hug before heading out into the buzzing Vegas night.

But honestly, I’m not in much of a party mood tonight.

I try to push the thought of Gabby out of my head, but it’s like she’s there with me, lingering just beneath the surface.

A couple of drinks in, and Rip nudges me, his voice a mix of amusement and concern. “Who are you, and what have you done with Roman?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Just jetlagged still,” I tell him, but it’s more than that.

When he yawns and suggests we head back to the hotel, I don’t argue. The truth is, I’d rather just crawl into bed and video message Gabby. But when I finally make it back to my room and pull my phone from my pocket, I’m greeted by a message from her: “Have fun. I’m tired and going to bed early.”

It’s midnight here, but she’s three hours behind me, and I know she’s probably getting some rest for her early flight tomorrow. Still, I can’t help but feel that familiar pang of longing.

I shake my head, setting my phone down, and head to the bathroom for a hot shower. I need something to shake off the fatigue, and the feeling that something is missing.

When I crawl into bed, I try to quiet my mind, but it’s a restless sleep. By mid-morning, I wake up with a start and grab my phone, squinting at the screen. There’s a quick message from Gabby: “On my way.”

I drop the phone, the words hanging in the air, taunting me. On my way. She’s going to be so close, and yet, she’s hours away in California.

The rest of the day blurs by. I go through the motions—shower, dress, meet up with the guys, and wait for the wedding to begin.

The ceremony is beautiful, with Rip officiating.

Elias and Taylor, full circle, finally tying the knot.

It’s a love story I can get behind, one that reminds me of what I want.

Still, even though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop checking my phone. When the ceremony ends and we’re ushered into a stunning dining room for the reception, I notice the way a few of my teammates are watching me.

Fuck.

Are they feeling sorry for the guy who came alone? Or is something else going on?

After the meal, too much wine, and the usual speeches, we’re led to a dance area.

I can’t help but laugh when I spot a full-blown Elvis impersonator wedding station, set up for anyone who might get a little too drunk and decide to take the plunge.

With the way drinks are flowing, I’m sure a few of my friends will end up married before the night’s over.

Not me though. There’s only one woman I want to tie the knot with.

I glance across the room at Rip. He’s acting... off. And Avery too. The moment she catches my eye, she quickly tucks her phone away. What the hell is going on? Every time I try to catch their attention, they turn away, avoiding me. My mind races, confused and frustrated.

I pull out my phone, trying to distract myself. But when I open social media, I freeze. There’s a picture of Avery and me, my hand on her back, leading her to an Uber.

What the hell?

I shrug it off. This is what’s upsetting everyone? There’s no way Gabby is going to care about this nonsense, or the caption that’s “shipping” us. She trusts me, and I trust her. I shoot her a quick text and head to the bar to wait for her response.

The minutes drag on. I spot Rip glancing around, his eyes darting like he’s looking for me.

“Get over here,” I shout when I catch his gaze. He freezes for a second, like he might bolt, but then he starts walking toward me. Avery follows behind him, and by now, I’m pretty sure I’m seeing two of her. What the hell was in those drinks?

Rip finally makes it to the bar, and Avery grabs a table. “Let’s sit,” Rip says, his voice serious. The tone makes me laugh.

“Listen,” I tell him, trying to keep my cool. “I saw the posts of Avery and me. Everything is fine.”

I take slow steps toward the table, but my mind is racing. I sit down with a loud scrape of the chair and toss my phone onto the table, my nerves tightening.

“If everything’s fine,” Rip says, his eyes narrowing, “Why the hell are you getting drunk?”

I shake my head, but the room spins a little. “I don’t know.”

Maybe it’s because I haven’t heard from Gabby. She should have landed in California hours ago. Why hasn’t she answered my messages?

A voice whispers in the back of my mind. Maybe she’s just with her parents, dude.

But another thought follows, darker. Maybe she’s with... him.

I take a fast breath, my rambled thoughts returning to my conversation with my brother. Okay, this is crazy. I am letting my past creep into my future and fuck that.

I lift my hand to order another drink and Rip grabs it and lowers it. “It’s late. We should all probably call it a night.”

“Maybe we can do some sightseeing tomorrow,” Avery suggests as she exchanges a look with Rip.

My head bobbles, going back and forth between the two of them. “I told you everything is fine.”

Avery checks her phone again and I try to get a look at it. “More pictures of us?”

“No…uh…” her gaze shifts to Rip, and he gives a tight shake of his head. Maybe he thinks I’m too drunk to notice it.

“Okay, what is it you two don’t want to tell me?” I growl.

Just then my phone lights up, and I lean forward to see it. Rip snatches it off the table, but not before I catch a glimpse of something—a picture—sent by that asshole Theo.

What the fuck did I just see…

My gaze flies to Rip, and his face is pained. “Roman…”

I briefly close my eyes, the room spinning. But I raise my hand and gesture for a drink…plenty of drinks.

“Roman,” Avery says. “Maybe it’s not?—”

“How could it not be?” She exchanges another glance with Rip, one that tells me we all saw the same thing, all came to the same conclusion. Rip puts my phone back on the table. I pick it up and shove it into my pocket. I’ve seen enough for the night.

This time my friends don’t stop me. No, they actually join in the drinking. What the fuck else can they do now? I can’t unsee what I just saw.

The night flies by in a drunken blur and the next thing I know, I’m walking away from the Elvis-impersonator station, my arm slung around Avery, who is stumbling beside me. Rip, who has been by my side all night—I think—is now off talking to one of the bridesmaids.

Beside me, Avery is laughing about something as she adjusts a sash around her shoulder.

I dance her around the room, and we swing past the door, but I stop when my blurry eyes spot something in my peripheral vision.

I turn toward it, and nearly stumble as the vision rounds the corner and disappears from my sight.

What the hell was that?

Was it a ghost?

Except this ghost wasn’t all in white. No, this ghost was in a hideous orange floral dress and a matching orange curly wig.

Oh fuck.