Chapter 24 Adrian
Adrian
The morning arrives with the kind of relentless clarity that makes hiding impossible.
Saturday’s the wedding rehearsal day, and the beach venue looks almost ready for tomorrow’s late afternoon ceremony.
Ayaka’s white peonies arrived this morning, their creamy petals already arranged in elegant clusters that will catch the golden hour light perfectly.
The archway she and I designed stands ready at the water’s edge, draped with flowing fabric that moves like poetry in the ocean breeze.
I’m helping Olivia fine-tune the artistic elements we’ve been planning.
Her team handles the logistics, but she and Becca pulled me in specifically for the creative work, the part I’m actually good at.
The lighting setup Javi designed will transform the space during the ceremony, but for now, we’re just checking sight lines and color balance against the natural backdrop.
It’s easier to focus on creative details than acknowledge the way my hands still shake when I think about last night.
The trust in Vince’s gaze as he sat motionless under the lamplight, offering himself as my subject with a vulnerability that nearly broke something inside me.
Every line of his body burned into my memory with painful clarity.
The way shadows pooled in the hollow of his throat, how the lamp’s glow caught the definition of muscle across his shoulders and chest. The dark brushstrokes of his tattoos spiraling down his right arm, creating patterns of light and shadow that my fingers itched to trace.
His confession about the tattoos, how they’re connected to me, leaves something unsettled deep inside me, as if the ground beneath my feet has shifted permanently.
I nearly lost it last night.
I had to grip my pencil so hard my knuckles went white to keep from reaching for him.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek until it bled to stop myself from closing the distance between us, from pressing my mouth to the curve of his collarbone.
Almost twenty minutes of pure torture, watching him hold perfectly still while every instinct screamed at me to touch, taste, and claim what he was offering with such devastating openness.
The sketch I created sits in my pad like something too dangerous to examine.
Even now, hours later, I can still see the way his breathing deepened when he caught me staring too long at the line of his hip, the way his body responded to being scrutinized so thoroughly.
The memory sends heat straight through me, and I have to force myself to focus on Ayaka’s flower arrangements before I do something stupid like adjust myself in public.
“Adrian, Ayaka wants to confirm the final placement for the altar arrangements,” Olivia calls from near the archway. She’s efficient and warm, the kind of professional who makes everything look effortless. “She’s asking about height adjustments for the photos.”
“Tell her they’re perfect,” I call back, adjusting the angle of one of the side arrangements so it catches the morning light better. “The photographer tested angles yesterday. Javi’s lighting will hit them just right during the ceremony.”
I catch movement in my peripheral vision and know without looking that it’s Vince.
He’s been handling best man duties this morning, picking up Trevor’s aunt and cousin from the airport and checking in with George and Lance about tomorrow’s timeline, their suits, and the rings.
Somehow, here at the resort, he’s always positioned where I can sense his presence, where the memory of his bare skin under lamplight threatens to derail my composure entirely.
“You and Olivia have got this locked down tight,” Trevor says, approaching with his hands shoved in the pockets of his chinos.
“Anything for you and Becca,” I reply with a smile. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be getting ready for rehearsal? Olivia will want to start soon.”
“Yeah, the whole crew’s assembled. Lance is giving George grief about whether he needs to iron his shirt, and Vince looks like he hasn’t slept in about three days, but we’re ready.”
The mention of Vince’s sleepless appearance sends an unwanted jolt through me.
I wonder if he spent the night thinking about our session the way I did, replaying every moment of charged silence, every catch of breath.
I accepted days ago that whatever we had, whatever we might have been, died that night at this resort when we decided to walk away from each other again.
I built my walls back up, stronger this time.
But the man who posed for me last night, who let me see the real him like an act of contrition, threatens everything I’ve worked to rebuild.
The rehearsal takes place on the beach itself, where tomorrow’s sunset ceremony will unfold.
White chairs arranged in neat rows face an archway at the water’s edge.
It’s intimate without feeling cramped, elegant without being stuffy.
It’s exactly what Trevor and Becca wanted for their late-afternoon vows.
“Right, everyone listen up,” Olivia calls out, consulting her timeline. “We’re going to walk through this twice. First time to get the timing right, second time to make it look natural. Trevor, you’ll be positioned at the altar with Reverend Martinez.”
The bridesmaids cluster near the chairs, with Claire fussing with her sundress and Stephanie glued to her phone.
Dinah lingers a little apart from them, and when her gaze drifts to Vince, it’s too obvious to miss.
She’s gorgeous in that sun-drenched, California-born way, with blonde hair lit up like a halo, blue eyes catching everything, and curves filling out a plain pink dress like it was made for her.
“George and Claire, you’re first,” Olivia calls, scanning her clipboard. “The music will set the pace, so take it slow. Then Lance and Stephanie. Vince and Dinah, you’ll be last as the best man and maid of honor.”
The rehearsal drags on for half an hour, family and friends shifting between standing in line, walking the aisle, or loitering off to the side.
They run through the entrances, the exits, where to stand, when the music swells.
I should be paying attention, but my eyes keep drifting to Dinah clinging to Vince’s arm.
She presses herself into him, graceful and practiced, like the aisle is her runway.
Vince barely reacts, his expression calm, his posture steady, his stride polished.
He’s an athlete. He’s a model. And here I am, watching the two of them look like they belong on a magazine cover.
When the rehearsal breaks, everyone scatters.
Olivia chases Trevor and Becca with another checklist, while the groomsmen and bridesmaids drift toward the cabanas.
I’m adjusting one of the side flower arrangements, pretending to care about the angle of a fern, when I see Dinah approach Vince.
Her body language screams interest, with the tilt of her shoulders, the calculated smile, and the hand sliding to his arm like it’s already hers.
“So,” she says, her voice carrying just enough to reach those of us nearby, “I was thinking maybe after the reception tomorrow, you might want to hang out together? I know this amazing place in town that stays open until really late.”
Vince glances at her, then his eyes find mine across the space. For a heartbeat, something passes between us that feels like a challenge, like he’s asking permission for something I have no right to give or deny.
“That’s generous,” he says, his voice carrying that easy charm, “but I’m taken.”
Dinah laughs, clearly thinking he’s joking. “Oh, I’ve looked you up. I don’t think you’re dating anyone at the moment.”
“No, we’re not exactly dating yet, but I’m taken. He’s clearly yet to come around.”
Dinah’s smile wavers a little. The others within earshot are clearly more interested in listening to this conversation now. “You mean, ‘her’?”
“Him.” Vince nods in my direction without hesitation, like pointing out the weather. “Adrian.”
The matter-of-fact certainty in his voice makes the flower arrangement slip from my suddenly nerveless fingers.
Petals scatter across the sand as conversations die mid-sentence.
George stops adjusting his collar. Stephanie’s phone nearly slips from her grip.
Even Olivia looks up from her clipboard with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dinah’s voice pitches higher, confusion replacing flirtation.
“Adrian Callahan,” Vince says, stepping closer to where I’m frozen among scattered flowers. “We’ve got history. Quite a bit of it, actually.”
My chest constricts. This can’t be happening.
“But he’s…the stripper,” Dinah says softly, sounding defeated. “You two actually know each other?”
“Yeah. He’s a very talented stripper. Five stars. Also, he’s a gifted artist, and now an honorary member of not only the groomsmen but also the wedding coordination team.”
“Vince,” I start, but he’s already moving with that focused determination I remember from football, closing the distance between us with measured steps.
“You’re gay?” Dinah blurts out, clearly trying to contain her shock but failing.
Vince looks at her and seems to consider his words before speaking. “I’m not sure. It’s only been him. He’s the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
The gasps from the small crowd hit me like a punch to the chest. I don’t want to look, don’t want to see their faces, but I feel their attention pressing down on me, heavy and sharp.
Vince is risking everything, his privacy and reputation as a high-profile football star.
The media would devour this if it ever got out.
My chest goes tight, my stomach knots, and I can feel heat crawling up my neck.
Why here? Why now? Why me? He’s clearly insane, and yet the urge to lean in is overwhelming, to close the space between us, to let him prove it. I resist.
Trevor laughs. “I can’t believe you’re finally saying these things, mate! Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”
“Ten years of history, to be exact,” Vince continues conversationally, like he’s discussing dinner plans instead of turning both our lives upside down. “I’ve been crazy about him since high school. It took me a while to get my head out of my ass and admit it, but some things are worth the wait.”
Lance lets out a surprised laugh. George’s eyebrows climb so high they nearly touch his hairline, but he smiles at Vince like he’s a proud dad. Becca claps a hand to her mouth, but the corners of her lips betray her delight before she can hide it.
“What are you doing?” I whisper angrily, my composure cracking under the blow of his honesty.
“What I should have done years ago.” He stops just close enough that anyone watching can see the intensity between us, the way we’re drawn to each other despite every rational reason to maintain distance. “I’m not going to waste any chance I get with you.”
The straightforward way he announces his intentions, like a battle plan or a business strategy, sends heat and panic warring through my chest. “You can’t just decide that.”
“It’s going to happen.” His voice drops softer but no less determined. “I’ll make sure you know I’m not going anywhere this time. Maybe I’ll convince you to give San Francisco a shot. Or hell, I’ll move to L.A. if that’s what it takes.”
Dinah makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
Vince looks at her, seeming confused about where he wasn’t clear. “Dead serious.” He shifts his gaze back on me, calm and unflinching. “Yeah, it took me this long to stop hiding it and start pursuing you properly.”
My hands are shaking now, and I grip them together to hide the tremor. This is everything I dreamed of hearing all this time, down to that night in my hotel suite when we finally said goodbye without actually saying the words.
“Everyone’s watching,” I manage to say weakly.
“Good.” The word comes out fierce and final. “Let them. Let them see and hear exactly where I stand.”
The beach has gone completely silent except for the whisper of waves against sand. I’m aware of our friends witnessing this moment that should be private, making it real in a way that can’t be taken back.
Somehow, the crowd begins to drift away.
Maybe Trevor quietly asked them to give us space, or perhaps they simply sensed the need for privacy, but it doesn’t matter.
The moment between us feels impossible to erase, raw and real.
All I can focus on is Vince, standing in front of me with that same unwavering determination he used to bring to everything that mattered to him.
Yet, I cannot falter. “I can’t.” I have no words left beyond this. I pull back, out of his reach, my composure snapping into place like armor. “Excuse me, I need to finish the setup.”
But I can see in his eyes that pulling away this time isn’t going to work. For the first time in ten years, Vince Holloway is fighting for me.
And I don’t know if I’m brave enough to let him win.
I turn and walk toward the reception area, but I can feel his eyes following me. I can sense the unyielding nature of his resolve like a physical presence.
Behind me, Trevor clears his throat with a chuckle. “Well…that was one eventful wedding rehearsal.”
“But not unwelcome,” Becca adds softly, a teasing lilt in her voice that makes my chest tighten. “Love confessions are always welcome at my wedding.”
Lance’s voice carries over the sound of waves. “Dibs on that hangout invitation, Dinah. Unless you’re suddenly into football players who’ve just had public emotional breakthroughs.”
“I think I need a drink,” Dinah mutters, but there’s laughter in her voice now instead of shock.
Their voices fade as I put distance between myself and what just happened. For the first time in a decade, Vince Holloway isn’t running from what we could be.
And despite every wall I’ve built, every reason I have to protect myself, that changes everything.