42. Stasi
forty-two
Stasi
T he shrill ringing of my phone startles me awake.
Crawling to the edge of the bed, I fumble for the angry device on my side table, swiping to answer the call as fast as possible so I don’t disturb Beau or Liam.
And then I realize that I’m alone in my apartment.
My heart sinks.
I made the choice to come back here last night since I was out late preparing the venue for my brother’s wedding, and I knew we all had to be up early.
But soon, this loneliness will become my reality again. Liam only asked me to stay during Beau’s recovery. He didn’t ask me to move in with him.
“Stas,” a deep voice sounds.
“Oh, no. What did I miss?”
I’m already leaping out of bed, stripping off my t-shirt and shorts to replace them with yoga pants and a pale pink athletic top over a sports bra.
Liam laughs in that soft, low way that stirs desire at my core. “You haven’t missed anything. Hail wanted me to call and make sure you didn’t sleep through your alarm. He’s a hot mess.”
“Can you handle him?”
“You know I can.”
“Okay. I’ll check in with Z at the hotel.”
“Good plan. See you in a few hours.”
After he hangs up, I try to shake off the nerves for my twin brother.
God, is he really doing this?
Snatching my dress, strappy gold heels, and make-up bag, I rush to my car.
It’s an abnormally warm winter day. Perfectly overcast. If that’s not a sign that this wedding was meant to be, I don’t know what is.
After assuring the vendors know where to set up, I soak in my hard work. It’s a beautiful venue. Balcony doors offer stunning views of the Dallas skyline, serving as the backdrop for the ceremony.
I talked the hotel staff into hanging sheer white panels of fabric in the open doorways.
Wildflowers decorate every surface, bringing a pleasant floral scent to the airy space.
Outdoor furniture has been rearranged around elegant stone fire pits for roasting marshmallows.
And there’s a dance floor under string lights that will glitter like a fairytale when the sun goes down.
Ugh . I’m not emotional. It’s only my twin getting married. The person I played shadow to for so many years. The sweet human who lifted my head when I was feeling down. Who became my shield from the cruel words of our parents.
I grab some sandwiches from the lobby, dropping them at the room where Liam is helping Hail get ready. Then I head toward Z’s room to deliver his lunch.
Ice-blue eyes open wide when Z answers his hotel room door. He’s here alone, no biological family left to claim him, but there are so many guests coming today that love and accept him as their own.
“Thank you,” Z says, easing his long arms around me. “Sorry for dropping a lot of this on you. ”
“I was honored you asked me for help. I’m so happy for you.” I swipe away a rogue tear on my cheek and look him over. He’s dressed in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and a black bowtie. He’s got winged eyeliner on and dark red nail polish that suits him.
“You are unfairly pretty, Z. Now what is there left to do? Your hair?” I ask, reaching for the mess of unruly black curls falling down over his inky brows.
He lifts both hands in defense. “Um. It’s good.”
“You sure?”
His gaze drops to the floor as his cheeks turn bright red. “Hail likes it this way.”
“Oh, Z.” I hug him again around the waist. “How many times am I going to cry today?”
His laugh is a quiet thing. Almost like a whisper. “Probably not as much as Hail.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” I say, fixing his bowtie. “Call or text if you need me.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
I check in with Malek and Griff, too, but there’s no taming the chaos that surrounds them. Their hotel room reeks of weed and spilled vodka. Red solo cups dot every counter, along with enough half-eaten snacks to feed an army.
“You have to button the dress shirt all the way up,” Griff complains, approaching Malek with raised hands.
Malek slaps him away. “It doesn’t look good that way, and it’s uncomfortable.”
“It looks like shit if you put the tie on over an unbuttoned shirt.”
“Yeah, maybe for other people. I can pull it off. ”
Griff rolls his eyes. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. It’s a wedding, fucker.”
A flash of a wicked smile from Malek. “So you admit I look good like this?”
“I didn’t say that—”
With quiet steps, I slip out of their room.
“Stas! No! We don’t know what we’re doing!” Malek shouts right before the door clicks shut.
I book it down the hall, braid slapping against my spine.
It’s a flurry of bubbles and frizzy blow-dried hair leading up to my transformed look. Soft beach waves spill down the open back of my long silk dress the shade of champagne.
Just as I’m sliding a bobby pin along one side of my head, a message buzzes on my phone, alerting me of Beau’s arrival. My heart skips in anticipation.
I step back from the mirror and assess my reflection. The dress is classy, with a little peek of leg through the thigh to floor slit. It’s nice and all, but it’s no snapback and sweats. Honestly, Hail wouldn’t care what I showed up in as long as I’m here for him.
Grabbing my dainty purse and heels, I perform a feat of athleticism by slipping them on as I race toward the elevator.
One look at Beau when the doors part, and I’m robbed of oxygen. He’s dressed in black slacks that hug his thighs and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his veiny, naturally tan forearms. The sides of his hair have been cut short, while the top was left in longer, pretty waves.
In a crowded hall of guests, I only see him.
My pulse pounds as I step out of the elevator and his head turns. I feel his eyes run down my body like a soft caress. He shakes his head in disbelief before striding over to me with a smile that shows off both heart-stopping dimples. He kisses me sweetly, right in front of everyone.
“You’re breathtaking,” he says.
If he wasn’t holding me, I’d probably float away. “Right back at you, handsome. Love your hair.”
His blue eyes shine. “Liam did it.”
I’m stunned by him. He looks so good. So filled with life and energy. It took months to get him here, and while it was hard, now I feel like we can handle anything the universe wants to throw at us.
Looping his arm through mine, Beau guides me into the grand wedding space filled with musicians and friends of my brother. Some I recognize from video chats. Others I glimpsed at Atonement’s shows when they played in the area.
Prickles of awareness spread along my skin as we step out onto the balcony. I turn to lock eyes with Liam.
And forget how to exist all over again.
“Beau,” I utter.
Liam’s a vision in his all-black suit, his long hair spun up into its usual messy bun, showing off the full extent of his strong features and neck tattoos.
Liam runs his heated gaze over both of us, conveying everything he wants to do to us in secret. Telling us we’ve only just begun. This is the tip of the iceberg, and there’s so much more to explore.
Fuck suits for looking so damn good.
What is it about a bad boy that quickens my pulse? Is it because I used to hide my own rebellious nature? This craving for danger?
“Je-sus.” Beau sucks in a gulp of air like it’s a rapidly depleting resource .
Hail stands next to Liam, holding a beer and looking dashing in a crimson dress shirt with suspenders. He’s more punk rock today than metal.
I snort. Suppose he considers that formal attire.
My twin strides over and pulls me into a side hug. “Thanks for all your help, sis. This day is perfect.”
I sniffle and pat a hand over his stomach. “You deserve it, Hail.”
He drags Beau into a full-on hug, and my throat tightens with emotion at the acceptance surrounding us.
“Still on for later?” Hail asks.
Beau grins. “Still on.”
I peek up at Beau in question. He simply pecks a kiss to my cheek. “Patience, sweetheart.”
He’s lucky I became distracted by the staff appearing with trays of appetizers, or I’d hound him for answers.
The food is eclectic, a mix of fancy brunch items and dishes Hail and Z experienced while touring together.
Really, everything is mismatched in the best way possible. My brother wanted Z to be happy, and Z isn’t one to ever vocalize his wants. So it was up to me and Hail to make the best decisions possible.
Judging by the smiles and laughter filling the venue, everyone is enjoying themselves.
After all of our low moments and disappointments growing up in a toxic home, this is more than I could have ever asked for to celebrate my brother’s big day.
I can’t say I’ve ever seen love. Smitten kids in high school and college, yeah.
Marriages of convenience, yes. But as we file into the rows of chairs for the ceremony and I watch Z walk down the aisle toward my antsy twin brother, I can see the overwhelming love flowing between them.
Hail won’t stop smiling like a goober. It has tears welling in my eyes, threatening to spill.
I purposely went light on the make-up, knowing I would most likely ruin it.
I sense dark, intense eyes on me, but I refuse to meet them. I can’t look at Liam. I’ll be found out in an instant. It’s not that I need marriage, but I do want forever with someone.
Two someones.
A whispered apology from behind has me turning to catch Max dropping into an empty chair, his daughter in one arm and a giant diaper bag in the other. He looks flustered. Almost as if he sprinted here on foot.
Beau interlocks our fingers and gives my hand a squeeze. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I swipe at the rogue tear dangling from my chin.
“Let ‘em fall, baby. I got you.”
When I glance up at Beau, tears glisten in his eyes, too. “Beau…”
“Ah fuck. Something about those words ‘in sickness and in health’…”
The tremble of his chin nearly has me crumbling. He glances down at me, those mesmerizing eyes swirled through with contentment, love, and a little fear I think we’ll all carry into every MRI scan coming our way.