Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tori

Eighteen months later.

The day we never saw coming has arrived.

My big brother is getting married to the love of his life.

No one was more shocked than me when he called to tell me that not only did he plan to propose to Ali, but that he planned to marry her that same night.

I had strict instructions from Harry to get on a plane to New York, secure the rings from Tiffany's, and then fly out on a private jet with everyone to Vegas.

So now, here I am, on the tarmac of JFK airport on board a private jet with Ria, Gabriella, and their other halves, Jack and Brad, as well as the girls’ friends from the club that the guys own, Kate and Harley, along with Ali’s friend, Grace, and her bodyguard, who has a face like thunder.

The last person we are waiting for is Noah.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when Harry said Noah was able to make it.

He’s been on a secret operation for nearly a year, and I’ve had one very brief conversation with him over the phone.

My nerves are high, so high that I’ve drunk two glasses of champagne and a shot of vodka with the girls just to try and settle them.

“My brother better hurry up. Harry and Ali will be here in about ten minutes,” Ria mutters, looking at her phone.

“He’ll be here, sweetheart. He said his flight landed here at seven, so he’s probably just walking through the airport as we speak,” Jack confirms, and that only heightens my anxiety.

A whole weekend with Noah. Staying in the same hotel, surrounded by our friends and family, and alcohol.

What could go wrong? This is my first trip to the States since I moved, and my first time seeing everyone together since Trent passed.

It feels weird yet oddly familiar being here.

Ria and Gabriella are the best. They have all come over to London a couple of times in the past year, and they feel like old friends.

Aside from my friend, Meghan, back in London, I have never met a group of girls who are so welcoming and easy to get along with.

Hushed whispers can be heard at the back of the plane from Grace and her bodyguard, Luke, and it looks like things are getting heated between them.

“I’m here; the party can now begin.” Noah’s voice booms through the private jet. I look up, and my heart starts racing, my head feeling a little woozy.

He hands his bag to the waiting air stewardess and makes his way down the plane, and holy shit, he looks good.

It’s clear he’s been somewhere hot from the golden glow of his skin.

He’s dressed in a basic T-shirt and dark jeans.

His hair is longer, and he has stubble; I have to make sure I don’t have my jaw hanging open when looking at him.

“About damn time. Nice of you to join us,” Brad jokes.

Noah holds up his middle finger playfully, “Sorry, Brad, some of us are out here busy saving the world.”

Ria is the first to greet him. She throws her arms around him, and I see the relief in her face.

I understand that feeling all too well, from both a sister and a spouse's point of view. It’s so hard knowing they are away and fighting in dangerous places, but nothing compares to that feeling when they return. “Hey, baby sis. You’re looking well.”

Jack is up next to hug him and then Brad. “Good to see you, you handsome fucker,” Brad teases. “Most people look like shit when they get back from a deployment, but not you. What have you been doing? Hauled up in a palace somewhere.”

Noah presses his index finger to his mouth, implying it’s top secret. Which I know it is. He can never say where he’s been.

He greets everyone else and finally gets to me. I stand and swallow the lump in my throat.

“Hey, Tor.” The sound of my name rolling off his tongue makes my knees feel a little weak, and when he takes my hand and tugs me closer for a hug, his scent invading my senses, my vision blurs a little, proving that this weekend is going to be harder than I anticipated.

“Hey,” I say weakly, trying to get myself together so no one suspects, but I am failing over here. Everyone returns to their conversations, and Noah focuses on me.

“So, they’re really doing this?” he states.

“They sure are,” I reply.

“A whole weekend with me in Vegas, Tor. Are you ready?”

No, not one bit of me is ready.

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