Page 34 of Unhitched

Chapter twenty

Kace

Adjusting my black tie, I take a look in the mirror hanging on the back of my door. This suit isn’t anything special–a traditional black suit I’ve used for business meetings or work events. I’ve never worn it to a wedding though. I’ve never even been to a wedding.

Most of Ruby’s friends were either already married or focused on their careers. My acquaintances are the forever single nerd type or already settled down.

For a while, I thought the first wedding I attended would be my own, but here I am, going to the wedding of a complete stranger–considering Mya met with the client while I was working. Although it is our job to break up the wedding, so I suppose this doesn’t even fucking count.

God, this job is absurd. I’ve never heard of something so immature in my life–not that I’ve heard all the details.

This entire week has been tense, ever since Mya and I argued on the waterfront.

And then there was the rage room. All the tension I released during those twenty minutes came rushing back the second Mya invaded my space, practically begging me to kiss her.

And fuck, did I want to. But I didn’t. Choosing lust over logic would have ended badly.

I thought maybe after telling Mya in therapy that I do better with plans, that she would at least do a bare minimum outline for me.

Yes, she made a reservation for the smash room, but I’ve gotten next to no information on this wedding.

It made me contemplate backing out of this whole stupid arrangement, but hell if I’m going to let her go off with strangers, especially with the outburst she’ll be participating in today.

I leave my room to check on Mya. If we don’t get going soon, we’ll be late. I know we’ll sneak in the back, but we can’t exactly follow through if we show up after the ceremony. I tap my knuckles against the bathroom door. “You almost ready?”

The door clicks open, and Mya steps out, smoothing her hands over the front of her dress.

My heart rate skyrockets, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady.

Jesus fuck, she’s sexy. Her dress is hot pink.

Thin straps lead to a lace top that cuts between her breasts that have never been on display like this.

The bottom part flares out with a sheer mesh fabric over a layer of silk that lands above her knees.

The urge to thread my fingers through her short, soft curls and push her against the wall has my hands twitching at my side. I shove them in the pockets of my suit instead.

“Do I look okay?” she asks, with a half-nervous smile. She twirls in a circle, the edge of her dress fluttering, and by the time she’s facing me, there’s a grin on her face.

“Isn’t it bad wedding etiquette to look better than the bride?”

Her grin widens. “You don’t know what she looks like.”

“I don’t need to.” I stare for an extra beat. I know it’s too long, but I can’t fucking help myself.

“Thanks.” She reaches to straighten my tie, and I let her, even though I know for a fact it’s straight.

“You look handsome.” She rolls her glossy lips together as she drops her hands and walks past me, her arm brushing against mine.

I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not.

I follow her movement where she grabs her fanny pack from the counter.

She digs through it, pulling out a card. “Can you put this in your wallet for me?” She holds out her ID, and I hesitate before I take it from her. Pulling my wallet from my back pocket, I slide her ID in, feeling like I checked off step one to being in a relationship.

Is that something I want?

I mean, eventually.

But right now?

Not until I can trust someone.

Would I ever consider that person to be Mya?

Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck. No. We don’t even see eye to eye on the details of relationships.

I clear my throat. “Alright. Let’s get going,” I tell her, holding my hand out for her to lead the way out the door. She takes the cue, and I watch her for a second, her lean legs looking even longer in her strappy black heels.

“Can we go over the plan?” I ask her, hitting the button to call the elevator.

I glance over my shoulder in time to see her shrug. “There’s no plan really. How hard can it be? All I have to do is object. And it’s not like I can predict how the crowd will respond anyway. I can’t plan for a million scenarios, so I’m just going to go with the flow.”

Confirmation that there’s no way this would ever work out between us. She could plan for at least the most realistic scenarios. She could set herself up for a higher probability of success. How can she not see that?

I hope that my silence during the entire walk to the parking garage speaks louder than words, but Mya doesn’t seem to take the hint as she climbs into my truck. Our therapist’s voice pops into my head, reminding me it might be less frustrating if I meet Mya where she’s at.

“Hey,” I start as I slide onto the driver’s seat.

Settling on the leather, she flicks on the seat warmer, then clicks her belt into place. “Yeah?”

I clear my throat. “I can see why it would feel overwhelming to prepare for a dozen possible outcomes.”

“You can?” Surprise is evident in her voice.

“Yeah.” I start the truck. “Would it help if we brainstormed a couple of the most likely outcomes?”

She hums, her brows furrowing as she stares at the polish on her fingernails. “Okay.” She sighs. “I guess I’ve been avoiding thinking about it because every outcome that happens in the movies is a big deal with a lot of emotion and all the attention on the person objecting.”

“Are you nervous about that?” I take a risk, hoping it doesn’t come off judgmental. “I’ve gotten the impression you don’t mind having all eyes on you.”

She looks over, chewing her lip as I back out of the parking space.

“I don’t mind it. It’s just… this is a pivotal moment in their life.

I know that no matter what I do, they still get to choose what comes next for them, but my decision could alter the course of their life. That’s a lot of pressure.”

I sink against the leather seat as I stop at the red light and take a breath.

My gaze flicks to her before it’s back on the road, pressing the gas when the signal turns green.

“I’m sorry I didn’t put that same thought into my crusade on Valentine’s Day.

” Feeling her stare, I glance over long enough to see her wide eyes before merging onto the freeway.

“I was being reckless because I was fucked up and hurting.”

Her hand lands on my arm attached to the steering wheel, and the touch sends an immediate warmth through me. “It’s okay. It all worked out.”

“That doesn’t make it okay, but regardless, this is different. You’ve put thought into this plan. And obviously someone else did too, right?”

“Yeah.” She pulls her hand back to her lap. “I mean I don’t think the decision was made lightly. Falling out of love is a big deal– a sad deal . That’s what happened to Allison and Eli, you know?” The bride and groom of today’s wedding.

I rub my thumbs against the leather steering wheel cover. “So it’s a mutual thing? Why didn’t they just call off the wedding?”

“To my understanding, they’ve never talked about it.

Allison’s mom overheard the back end of a conversation between Eli and his mom.

She was going on about how committing to someone forever changes everything.

You’re all-in, ‘til death do you part, and any hesitancy you have while you’re dating someone you love goes away. ”

“That makes no sense.”

“You don’t think so?” She doesn’t seem to be debating me but rather actually asking my opinion.

“I mean, I wouldn’t propose to someone if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.”

“Is that why you never asked Ruby to marry you?”

I grind my teeth. My hands tighten their grip around the wheel, my knuckles going white. “No.”

She takes the hint, but I feel bad for the edge that takes over at the mention of my ex. “I think when they got engaged, they were still in love. At least they still loved each other. I get the impression they do even now.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“They’ve been together for a decade–high school sweethearts. They don’t know anyone or anything else. Allison’s mom said she’s been watching her daughter’s connection with him fade the longer they go without connecting to anything else outside of each other.

“Her mom has noticed a change in demeanor lately, music choices, whispering phone calls with a few of her friends. She can tell Allison has been questioning the wedding, and said she could hear the uncertainty in Eli’s voice when he was talking to his mom.

But he also told her Allison deserved the world and that he’ll always love her enough to give her that.

” She sighs, and in my periphery I see her head fall against the headrest. “The mom thinks they’re both on the same page, but neither one of them has the courage to leave what they have behind.

Plus, the wedding has been paid for and is non-refundable.

She’s confident that’s part of why Allison hasn’t called it off, and she doesn’t want her daughter’s financial concern to be the main factor in her getting married. ”

“She can’t just talk to her daughter?” I ask Mya, despite thinking about how my parents struggle to talk to me about anything. I remember asking them if they thought moving across the country was the right choice and their response was to do whatever makes me happy.

“Apparently, she tried. Ali brushed her off and refused to talk about it. She also didn’t clarify any assumptions her mom made.”

“So without you, she’d marry someone she doesn’t want to be with forever?” I shake my head as I come to a stop at a light. I can’t wrap my head around this shit.

“I think so. You really don’t see how hard this is, do you? You’ve never hesitated to break up with someone? You just do it the exact moment you have the first thought?”

I keep my eyes trained on the road. “I wouldn’t know.”