Page 3 of The Road to Forever (Beaumont: Next Generation #7)

THREE

T he sun peeks through the window and I squint to block the rays, placing my arm over my eyes, then rolling onto my side. I reach for Nola but find her side of the bed empty. Not only empty, but cold.

Lately, when I get home from band practice, Nola’s still at school, studying. I’ve waited up for her a couple of times but tend to fall asleep sitting on the couch. I hate when I do that because my neck tends to hurt the next day.

It would be nice, though, if we could stay up and talk or watch a movie when she gets home but says she’s tired and I’ve already taken a nap. It’s a weird cycle.

I get up, stretch, use the bathroom, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. Nola’s at the island, reading a book and sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” I kiss the top of her head and make my way toward the coffee maker.

“Morning. What time do we need to be at the venue?”

I put the cup Nola left out for me under the dispenser, add a new pod, press some buttons, and wait. While it brews, I turn to face her, resting my hands on the island.

“I think four,” I tell her. “It’s a sunset ceremony.”

“It’s going to be beautiful. The weather is gorgeous.”

“The sun tried to blind me this morning,” I say, laughing. “Wanna hit the beach for a bit? Do some work on the board?”

Nola looks at her book and then me. A shy smile creeps across her lips. “What if we take the paddle boards out?”

I nod eagerly because, at this point, any time with her is welcome. My coffee finishes brewing; I grab it, add cream, and take a sip.

“Do you have more studying?”

Nola shrugs. “Not really. I’m reading over past chapters before the exam. I’m nervous.”

“Why? You’ve gotten straight A’s since you enrolled.”

Another shrug. “This final is going to be hard. The professor said no notes, no books.”

“Aren’t all tests like that?” I take another drink, trying to get as much down as I can without burning myself. I wanted to get outside, feel the sand between my toes, and Nola on my board.

Well, she wouldn’t exactly be on my board, but we’d be next to each other.

“Not at all,” she says. “Most of my finals have been open note or open book. Honestly, grad school has been easy.”

“Huh, maybe I should’ve gone.”

Nola rolls her eyes. “You would’ve had to go to college first.”

“Right.”

“It’s not too late, ya know.”

I smirk at her. “It’s too late for me.”

Nola gets up and comes around the island. “Not at all. You can still enroll for the fall semester.”

“I’ll be on tour.” I lean down and kiss her. “Which I’m still hoping you’ll come with me on.”

“You know I want to finish my degree,” she says, backing away from me. “I only have the fall semester left, and then I’m done.”

“Okay.” I don’t want to push her out of fear we’ll end up fighting. I hate fighting with her. It makes me feel like the smallest man ever when I raise my voice at her.

She leans against the counter and bats her eyelashes at me. “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t enroll.”

I laugh, knowing damn well it’s a good thing I’m not going to college, ever.

All I’ve ever wanted to do was sit on a stool and strum my guitar.

I couldn’t care less about tours, merchandise, meet-and-greets, and everything else that comes with being a musician.

But it’s where I’m at now in my life, and at the moment, there isn’t anything I can do to change it.

But I’m curious. “Why’s that?”

She shrugs, then bats her eyelashes at me. “You’d attract all the women looking to make mistakes with the bad boy.”

I try to hide my frown. “I’m not a bad boy, Nola.”

She shrugs. “To me, you are.”

I curl my finger around her ear, pushing her hair back. “If you think I’m a bad boy, then clearly, we’re not spending enough time down on the strip. How often do you see me smoking? Wearing leather? Taking others for rides on my bike?”

“It’s the bike,” Nola says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whenever someone figures out I’m your girlfriend, they ask about the bike. It’s always the dumb bike.”

“Hey, my bike isn’t dumb. You like it. And you’re not my girlfriend; you’re my fiancée.” I hold up her left hand, where her ring is. “Soon to be my wife.”

She smiles softly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. Instead of asking her why becoming my wife gives her anxiety, I pull her into my arms and hug her tightly.

“Let’s go to the beach,” she says after we part. “And then you can help me study and see how great it would be to go to school.”

I nod and force a fake laugh. Why is she pushing this college thing suddenly? Unless I decide to change career paths and become some renowned surgeon, I can easily support her and our future family with what I make from my music. Why isn’t this enough for her?

When Nola and I arrive, she goes to sit down, which strikes me as odd. I figured she would want to find my sisters, but she takes a seat in the front row, where my parents will also sit.

Josie sits in the front row on the groom’s side, with her and Liam filling in as Ben’s family since his is incredibly self-centered and only out for money.

Ben and I definitely have that in common—dysfunctional mothers.

I’m so thankful she ditched me at my dad’s and never came back until I was old enough to deal with her on my own.

Even more thankful he had her parental rights terminated when I was younger.

Inside the winery, I find Ben and Noah sitting at the bar. I saddle up to them and order whatever Noah’s drinking.

“You doing okay?” I ask Ben.

He nods but looks pale as shit.

“Dude, you’re already married to my sister. Why do you look like you’re going to puke?”

Noah laughs and takes a drink of his beer.

“I have no clue,” Ben says as he dabs sweat from his forehead.

“Seriously, are you feeling okay?” I would hate to think he’s having cancer-related issues. I put my hand on his shoulder and give him a squeeze.

“Just nervous, and I don’t know why,” he says. “We’re already husband and wife, we have a dog, and now we have a baby on the way. This should be a walk in the park for me.”

“Maybe because you’re doing all of this in front of friends and family?” Noah asks. “An all-eyes-on-you moment.”

“Possibly.”

“Well, I think I speak for my entire family when I say you’ve got nothing to worry about. My sister will be walking down the aisle and into your hands shortly.”

“Thank God,” he mutters and then downs a glass of water.

A glass breaks, catching our attention. I look at the bartender, whose mouth is hanging open.

Following her gaze, I roll my eyes when I see my dad and Liam walking toward us, both in tuxedos with their collars and first couple of buttons undone and their hands in their pockets.

Of course, the sun casts them in some sex symbol glow.

I look at Noah and smirk. “It’s as if we aren’t famous.”

Noah cackles. “At least we’re not old.”

The bartender seems to snap out of her sudden stupor. She shakes her head as my dad and Liam approach us.

“Holy shit,” she mutters as she walks away.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Noah asks them.

“What did we ruin?” Liam asks, only I suspect he knows exactly what Noah’s talking about.

“We can’t help it if we look good,” my dad adds. “Hot men in tuxes. Your mom definitely agrees.”

“Gross.”

My dad laughs. “Funny, your sister said the same thing.”

I don’t even need to know which sister. As long as one of them agrees with me, I’m solid.

Unfortunately for our egos, the bartender returns and very painstakingly asks the dads—soon to be grandfathers—what they want to drink. I’m not sure how she can function with her shaking fingers.

“Can you just offer to take a selfie with her so she can get back to work,” I say to the dads. “Clearly, you’ve flustered her.”

My dad asks for her phone, and she shakingly hands it over. Liam rests against the bar while my dad stands at an angle and holds the phone out to take a photo of the three of them.

“My friends are going to flip,” she says as she looks at her phone. “Thank you.”

“What about us?” Noah points to the both of us.

She stares, and it’s like you can see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to place us.

“Ouch,” I mutter and then look at my dad. “I guess being your son carries no weight.”

“Ah, someday you’ll win a Grammy, and everyone will know who you are.”

Noah and I roll our eyes.

“Well, I’m getting married today,” Ben says, breaking up the macho talk.

We laugh.

“Just so you know, no refunds or exchanges,” Dad says to Ben.

“Who would he exchange for?” Noah asks. “I’ve locked the other sister up tight!”

“All right, enough antics,” Liam says. “This is Ben’s day. What are you drinking?”

“Water.”

Liam nods, as if now remembering Ben doesn’t drink. “Well, I’d like to propose a toast.”

We all raise our drinks.

“Ben, you’ve been part of our family for as long as I can remember. And I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re happy to have you. May your days be filled with nothing but happiness, and your nights be filled with nothing but love.”

“Here, here,” Dad says as he raises his bottle. “Damn happy to have you as my son-in-law.”

Ben’s eyes fill with tears. Noah and I aren’t having any of it though and begin jostling him to let him know everything is okay. No, it’s more than okay. Everything’s perfect.

The wedding planner comes to let us know it’s time to take our places. Ben sighs heavily and stands, adjusts the lapels of his tux, and strides forward, leaving us standing there.

“Well, he’s ready,” Noah says as he follows him out.

We’re somewhat shrouded by the grapevines. People have filled the seats and are eagerly waiting. Every member of Sinful Distraction, including Chandler and Evelyn, as well as Plum and Talking Til Dawn, are here, as well as some of our friends from Beaumont.

Something hard nudges my leg. I look down to find Beau and Mack. “Hey,” I say as I bend to pet my sister’s dog. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yep. My dad and Amelia are here too!”