Chapter 33 Easton #3
But Thomas is the only one who actually claims to love me, so what does that say? To paraphrase Maya Angelou, I should probably believe people when they tell me something, or don’t tell me something, the first time.
All is chaos downstairs, of course. The rehearsal dinner has moved to the house because the restaurant lost power. “This is just terrible,” says Bridget, wringing her hands. “What can I even serve all these people on such short notice?”
I don’t have a clue. Kelsey and Hawk really should have cancelled.
I find Elijah in the foyer. His eyes glow as he takes me in.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I love it.”
He steps closer than he should—fortunately there’s so much going on that no one will notice. “You’re so beautiful,” he replies, letting his hand slide over my hip for only a moment. “I’m incapable of looking at anything but you.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why this won’t work with us. I could move to a university closer to him. We’d live in separate towns, but I could drive back on weekends.
But this isn’t the time and it’s also pretty pathetic, offering so much when he’s never asked me for anything.
I just got dumped two weeks ago and have been pulling out all the stops to win that guy back, which is bad enough.
But here I am, ready to throw away everything I’ve earned back in Boston for a shot with a guy who has never once said he wants me to come home.
Maybe I’m one of those people so desperate for love that they’re best served not pursuing it in the first place.
The wedding planner calls us all to attention.
They’ve decided that Kelsey and Hawk will say their vows on the upper landing between the two staircases, with the bridesmaids on one side and the groomsmen on the other.
Family members will stand on the stairs.
My gaze shoots to Judy, who probably shouldn’t be standing on the stairs whether she’s in remission or not.
I’m not sure if she knows that Elijah told me, but now that I’m aware, I can’t unsee it.
Even in remission, her balance is unsteady and she fatigues quickly.
My gaze meets Elijah’s and he gives me a small smile. I’ve got it covered, that smile says.
We could have made such a good team.
We practice filing in and getting into formation on the landing, but we can barely hear the wedding planner’s instructions over the shouting in the foyer as food is being delivered. Every time the door opens, the wind rattles the chandelier and whips my dress around my legs.
As the wedding planner tells us to file out, the door opens again and glass shatters somewhere below us. Bridget glances down and shakes her head. “That was a ten-thousand-dollar vase.”
As nice as it must be to afford incredibly expensive shit, it would be even nicer to not especially care when it breaks.
We move straight from the rehearsal to dinner, which is now an incredibly informal affair.
We sit with chicken wings and fries and pizza—the only food Bridget could get delivered for so many people on such short notice—around the tables that were supposed to be placed under the tent for the wedding.
Every time the door opens, the wind sends paper plates and plastic cups flying.
Bridget’s very expensive rug is undoubtedly ruined thanks to all the red wine now soaking into it.
But Kelsey, gorgeous in a mauve silk dress, is lit up with joy, sitting in Hawk’s lap so we can squeeze around one table.
“I’d like to toast Easton,” Hawk says, holding his plastic cup aloft. “Because if she hadn’t forced Kelsey to go down to that hotel bar in Paris, I’d probably have never spoken to her.”
“How did she manage that?” Elijah asks with a quarter smile.
Kelsey beams at me from across the table.
“We made this bet as teens and the winner got to ‘call in a favor’ when the time was right. So I got to Paris and Easton said I had to get dolled up and go down to the hotel bar and flirt. She didn’t explicitly say I had to hook up, but it was her preference.
So anyway, I was sitting at the bar when Hawk came into the hotel, and he was so jealous. ”
“Furious,” he confirms, “but who could blame me? I’d just flown twelve hours to see this girl after speaking to her every single day for over a year and she was at the bar with some other guy.”
“You and I weren’t dating!” Kelsey cries, but she’s laughing at the same time. “We hadn’t even met.”
“Irrelevant,” Hawk says with a grin, pulling her head to his shoulder. “But anyway...I hadn’t even been sure I was going to talk to her. This is humiliating, but I’d considered just sitting in the lobby to watch her walk to the conference and then leaving.”
Aiden laughs. “He actually called me from the plane because he was freaking out, too scared to meet her. He was gonna tell the pilot to turn around.”
“So anyway,” Hawk says, giving Aiden a stern look, “I say the credit goes to Easton, or maybe to Elijah, since he’s the reason she lost the bet.”
Elijah, beside me, raises a brow. “How did I make you lose a bet?”
I blow out a breath. Suddenly my face is a thousand degrees. “Kelsey bet that we’d be married by the time I was twenty-five. I said we wouldn’t.”
“I had no idea what a douche Elijah would turn out to be,” Kelsey says cheerfully, toasting her brother. “Thanks for that, Elijah.”
Elijah has always been a master at schooling his features, but his displeasure in this moment couldn’t be clearer: his smile is tight and does not extend to his eyes. “Happy to help.”
I rise from the table to throw away my trash, but Elijah remains by my side. “Can’t believe you bet against me.”
I shrug. “I thought my odds of it working out were best if I insisted it wouldn’t happen. Let the gods know you want something and they’ll spit in your face. Isn’t there an expression along those lines?”
“Man plans and God laughs,” he says softly. “It’s slightly less malicious than your version.”
I didn’t even allow myself to plan, though, and God laughed anyway. It seems pretty malicious to me.
I wanted to be a doctor, and return to Oak Bluff a triumph. None of it worked out exactly the way I wanted. More than any of that, I wanted Elijah, and he’s still what I want most, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen either.
Why won’t he ask me to visit? Why won’t he mention what happens after this weekend ends?
“I’m flying back to Boston on Sunday,” I say, swallowing a burst of nerves. “It’ll be weird not to see you anymore.”
He nods. “Yeah, it’ll be an adjustment.”
Not when will I see you again? Not I’m not ready for it to end.
It’ll be an adjustment.
I go straight to my room before everyone down here witnesses me bursting into tears.