Chapter 11
Eleven
Sydney sat in a comfortable waiting area, about the size of a living room, at Marcella’s Bridal Boutique.
The room, unsurprisingly, was bathed in whites and soft pinks, juxtaposed with touches of gold accenting the mirrors, furniture, and decorative throw pillows that dotted the love seat where Margie and Sharon sat together.
Across from the sofa, she and Brynn sat in chairs that were undeniably comfortable, and Sydney eased back against the plush cushion, flexing her legs.
Reese had been whisked away upon arrival into the fitting area, separated from the private viewing room by a large curtain.
Marcella herself, at no more than five feet tall and with shock-white hair, had commanded the situation with ease, picking Reese out as the Cinderella for her dresses before they’d all finished entering the building.
“Wait here,” was all she had said to them before disappearing behind the curtains with Reese a few minutes ago.
This group was more intimate, and somehow, more intimidating to Sydney than the group at lunch. Given that her ex-boyfriend’s mother, his new fiancée, and her mother made up the party of the people she could have a conversation with, this was little surprise.
Even so, she decided to bite the bullet. “So, Brynn, you didn’t want to get a dress in Boston? You live there, right?”
That should be safe enough, in terms of conversation topics.
“I’ve gotten all of my dresses from Marcella over the years.
I think of Bingham as much more of a home than Boston will ever be.
” Brynn looked around fondly at the decorative drapery on the walls, her fingers fiddling with a pendant on her neck.
“Grant and I are still discussing where we want to call home once we’re married. ”
Margie smiled lovingly at her daughter. “We have a house in Boston where we all lived when Brynn was growing up, but summers in Bingham were always sacred, along with any weekends we could make work. When Brynn graduated high school, Stan and I began spending more time at our house on the coast, and it really stuck for both of us.”
Brynn nodded in agreement. “And what about your parents, Sydney? Are they in Stoneport? You grew up there, right?”
She needed to find time to call her mom tonight, she reminded herself, along with responding to Hallie’s dozen unanswered messages regarding the ‘vibes’ of the weekend.
“I lived in Boston for a few years after college.” With Grant, in the apartment I discovered you two in , she added silently. “But when I moved to Florida after I joined the pro tour, my parents moved down there to be closer to me.”
Sydney watched Brynn closely then, to see if any sense of awareness flicked across her features. But there was none to be found; Brynn was seemingly oblivious to how intertwined her and Grant’s lives used to be.
“I love that,” Margie chimed in. “We’re fortunate enough that Brynn hasn’t had wings that seem to want to carry her too far from home.”
Brynn looked both bashful and embarrassed, making her face appear much younger than her twenty-seven years. “I like New England,” she said with a shrug.
“There’s really no substitute,” Sydney agreed. “I’ve lived in Florida long-term and traveled the world for tournaments, but it’s still the place I love the most.”
Sharon cleared her throat, quiet until now.
She’d been quiet all day, really, but Sydney hadn’t had the courage to strike up a casual conversation with her.
Maybe ex-boyfriend’s new fiancée and future mother-in-law, at the end of the day, had felt safer than ex-boyfriend and fake girlfriend’s mother.
Wow, she needed to draw herself a chart.
“Reese mentioned earlier today, which makes a lot more sense given that she’s purchased The Stone’s Throw Inn, that she’s officially relocated back to Stoneport,” Sharon said.
Sydney had wondered when the questions would come from Sharon, and now the hairs on her neck started to prickle. Her own mother would have already asked Reese for a five-year plan on their relationship, especially after everything that had happened with Grant.
“Are you moving back then? Or will you two make long distance work in some capacity? If you’re going back to Florida, that is?” There was a hopefulness in Sharon’s voice that Sydney didn’t want to dim with an honest answer.
She wasn’t going to admit that she had no idea what the future held for her. Not professionally. Not personally. She barely knew what each day would hold.
But that wasn’t a bad thing, she’d accepted over the last few weeks.
For the last fifteen years, her life had been so regimented that her day was planned down to the minute. With training, meal prepping—and, well, more training—she could function on autopilot instead of focusing on making decisions about her life.
Her life since coming back to Stoneport had become a veritable ‘choose your own adventure’ novel, with exhilaration and excitement—and possibilities that she’d only found before in the confines of big matches.
Was this what it meant to make your own fun?
Still… she was conscious not to put Reese in the hot seat, accidentally planning their fake life out together if she’d told Sharon something different.
“My retirement was announced about three weeks ago, so I’m happy to be wherever it makes sense to spend time with Reese for the foreseeable future.
I do have to head back to Florida in about a week to tie up some loose ends with sponsorships and the business side of things, but as much as possible, I want to be back home in Stoneport for the summer. ”
Sharon’s shoulders relaxed, and Sydney felt a genuine smile widen across her own face. She liked the answer she’d given. Even though she’d lived in Florida for the past four years, she’d always seen it as traveling there and coming home to Stoneport.
Margie nodded sagely, moving her hands like an ocean wave as she said, “Compromise is the key to any good relationship. Sometimes you’re the one ebbing, and sometimes you’re the one flowing.”
Sydney made a mental note to start keeping track of Margie’s ocean metaphors.
“And Reese is getting everything settled at the inn, so I’m sure some time to focus her attention without me bothering her won’t be a bad thing,” Sydney joked.
“You two seem to have a really good thing going,” Brynn said with an almost wistful sigh. “I’m really happy for you both.”
Sydney was getting glimmers from Brynn’s behavior and language that maybe all that glittered wasn’t gold between the happy couple.
She’d barely seen Brynn and Grant speak to one another, let alone engage in any private conversations or moments that helped Sydney understand how throwing it all away with Brynn had been worth it to her ex.
And trust, she had been watching.
There were no light touches. No soft looks. There was no awareness of the other person, like no matter where the other was in the room, they were attuned.
When she and Reese weren’t actively engaged in conversation, Sydney could feel her presence, keyed into Reese’s moods almost as if they were becoming her own.
She attributed it to the charade of keeping their lies together; yes, that was the reason she was always so mentally present wherever Reese was concerned.
The most present relationship she’d seen Grant engaging in was being called to Tripp, who was always hot on the heels of Stan.
“Grant seems to be traveling so much for work—” Brynn’s words were cut off as Reese stepped out of the fitting room area.
“I did the pinning already,” Marcella said, ushering Reese farther into the center of the room.
Reese’s hair was pulled up into a messy updo, framing her high cheekbones and lush lips. Having her shoulders exposed highlighted the features of the bridesmaid dress, the silky, sage-green fabric draped expertly across her body like she’d been poured into it.
Sydney sat up quickly, shifting uncomfortably at the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach. “You look beautiful,” she said before she could even process that she was going to speak.
It felt almost inappropriate, how her eyes couldn’t seem to pull themselves away from the soft curve of Reese’s hip, from the swell of her chest and how her cleavage just kissed together in the middle.
Sydney knew how soft it would be to rest her head there, to nuzzle against the warmth and softness of Reese, who always seemed to smell so good.
They hadn’t talked much on the drive to the dress shop, so Sydney hadn’t mentioned that even with the club shampoo and conditioner, Reese had still smelled divine, like it was more than just what she wore, but rather a scent she produced that, to Sydney, was akin to ambrosia.
When Sydney finally met her stare, a flush dotted Reese’s cheeks and chest. Had she noticed the way Sydney had been mapping her body, appreciating every swell and curve?
“Sydney’s right. You look beautiful,” Sharon chimed in, standing up to get a better view.
Sydney very much considered doing the same, but she wondered if her legs would betray her.
Brynn moved over toward Reese, looking the dress up and down. “Do you like it?”
“Of course she likes it,” Marcella said obstinately, fretting around Reese’s legs and checking the angles on the dress. “She looks gorgeous.”
There was no world in which Sydney—or any person with eyes—could disagree. The soft green of the dress complimented Reese’s fair skin tone, and her dark hair with its errant auburn and russet strands positively popped.
And for as good as this feeling was, like Sydney was a puppy dog who just wanted to throw herself into Reese and beg for attention and affection, it made her nervous, too.
Amping up their fake romance was throwing Sydney off, she decided. Coupled with her lack of physical contact with anyone in, oh, close to a year, and she was wound tighter than she would be during a finals match.
Relax , she coaxed herself, releasing a deep, calming breath.