Chapter 4
Ellie
Imake my way up the top stairwell of some huge skyscraper on the edge of downtown Denver.
“Can you believe we’re crashing a wedding, Gus?”
The happy Staffy mix looks up at me and licks his nose before trotting up the last few stairs.
I push open the door and stand in the middle of the open doorway, my eyes wide as I take in the beautiful scene.
It’s like something out of a Pinterest board. String lights hang above, twinkling against the deep, indigo-blue summer sky. There’s a long table on one side of the rooftop, draped in silky white fabric and adorned with small vases of pink and white peonies and white candles.
On the other side is a dance floor, where about half the guests are dancing to Daft Punk.
At the far end, there’s a huge bar and a dessert table next to it.
All the guests are dressed in cocktail attire. I glance down at the casual floral sundress I’m wearing and white sneakers, feeling self-conscious even though Camden assured me I could come dressed as I am.
“Hey. You made it.”
I turn and see him beaming at me. For a second, I just stare at him. He looks so handsome in that charcoal gray suit, white dress shirt, and sky blue tie.
He holds up a stemless wine glass. “Your Malibu and pineapple juice is ready for you.”
I smile and accept the glass. I take a sip and hum at the sweet flavor. It’s been so long since I’ve let myself indulge in a cocktail—at least six months. God, it tastes good.
Camden crouches down to pet Gus.
“Gus, my man. You’re even cuter in person.”
I chuckle while Camden kisses the top of Gus’s head. He flops on the ground, offering up his belly. Camden laughs.
“He’s shameless when it comes to belly scratches,” I say.
Camden rubs Gus’s belly with both hands.
I look at the dance floor and see Ryker slow-dancing with a tall, fair-skinned woman in a gorgeous, light peach-hued strapless ball gown that complements her skin tone perfectly. Her fiery red hair is styled in soft waves over one shoulder, and she’s wearing bold red lipstick.
“Wow. Ryker’s wife is stunning,” I say.
Camden stands up. “I know, right? How the hell that grumpy fucker managed to convince Madeline to marry him, I’ll never know.”
I watch as Ryker gazes adoringly at his wife, his hands on her waist, holding her against him. His stern expression has softened, and his mouth is curved up in a soft smile.
“I think that’s cute when a grumpy guy falls in love,” I say.
Camden grins. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into crashing your teammate’s wedding.”
“You’re not crashing. You’re my date.”
That sly grin dances on his thick lips. It’s on the edge of cocky, but not quite. The sweetness in his gaze softens it. My tummy flips. Camden is unfairly handsome when he smiles like that.
His eyes scan the messy side braid over my shoulder.
“Told you I’d be underdressed. Do you regret inviting me yet?” I say.
His smile softens as he shakes his head. “Not even one bit. You look beautiful.”
“Yeah, right.”
He holds my gaze. “I’m serious, Ellie. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
The tingles in my tummy intensify. But then I remind myself that this is Camden. He’s like this with everyone, so sweet and charming. It’s probably why he does so well with the ladies…and how he ends up with their underwear in his kitchen.
One of his teammates walks over and greets me with a polite smile. Del, I think his name is.
He leans down and pets Gus. “This wedding just got way more fun,” Del says.
Gus sits there with his tongue hanging out, thrilled with all the attention he’s getting.
“Aww what a cute dog!” A tall blonde woman wearing a gold cocktail dress walks over and rubs Gus behind his ears.
Del introduces me to his fiancée, Ingrid. I shake her hand and try not to stare. She’s so tall and pretty. She looks like a model.
“I love your dress,” I say.
She beams. “Thank you. I stole it from my best friend’s closet.”
“Ellie’s the party princess from the bachelor party,” Del says.
Ingrid gasps, still smiling. “Oh my gosh, I died laughing at the unicorn you painted on Del.”
She beams at him. He cracks a smile.
I can’t help but smile. “Really?”
Ingrid nods excitedly. “Oh, yeah. That was the highlight of that whole weekend, seeing my grumpy guy decked out in unicorn face paint.”
She giggles and drops a quick kiss to his mouth. Del’s hard expression softens.
“Do you mind if I grab your number?” Ingrid asks. “One of my cousins is throwing a birthday party for her kids later this summer and they want a party princess.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.” As Ingrid and I exchange numbers, I can’t help but get excited. I’m always on the lookout for more paying gigs.
Ingrid thanks me, then drags Del to the dance floor when a high-energy song comes on.
Camden looks at me, sporting that sexy smile. “Feel like dessert? I saved you a slice of cake.”
“I wish I could have some, but I’m allergic.”
His smile fades. “Oh, right. Your food allergies. I’m sorry, Ellie.”
I wave a hand. “It’s okay. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
That familiar wave of embarrassment washes over me when I think about just how much it sucked to have so many food allergies as a child.
I was that weirdo kid who couldn’t eat what normal kids ate.
No dairy or gluten or wheat. Every time I went to a friend’s birthday party, I had to bring my own food and snacks because chances are what they were serving would make me vomit or break into a rash or worse—my throat would close, and I’d have to use an EpiPen.
I try not to think about all those times when I was little, when I unknowingly ate something I was allergic to and had to use an EpiPen. I’d almost always end up in the hospital with my parents stressed out about how they were going to pay for it.
“No dairy or gluten, right?” Camden says.
I look at him, stunned. “You remember what I was allergic to?”
He flashes that cute smile again. “Yeah. It just took me a sec.” He glances behind him. “Wait here.”
He walks off and I bend down to give Gus a few more pets.
A minute later, Camden is back with a plate of fresh berries arranged in a smiley face. There’s a dollop of what looks like vanilla ice cream in the middle.
“It’s coconut ice cream, so no dairy,” he says before I even have to ask.
I bite back a giddy grin.
“It’s not cake, but it’s still yummy,” he says.
I pluck a raspberry and pop it in my mouth. “It’s perfect.”