Chapter 13
Pen
We spend nearly two weeks at my parents', sharing time together and preparing for the wedding.
After driving back to the city, things stay busy.
I write my resignation letter— it takes several tries and more than a few tears.
I also start the paperwork to leave my apartment, and take the first few steps into wedding planning.
We're starting with hiring a planner, because there's no way we'll manage this in such a short time otherwise.
Bear helps plenty, but he's busy with secret plans related to my bucket list, so I give him some extra room where I can.
Damián's barbecue should be a reprieve, but nerves swim in my stomach as we enter the house.
Some nervous laughter has escaped from me on and off, including now as I drop my bag in the office near the front.
It's where everyone usually leaves their stuff.
Bear's and my contraband will be safe there.
Barkley darts to us from the backyard. Damián's pet is a fluffy white, furry dog, and I can't help the smile that splits my face. I love dogs. I can't wait until I can have one of my own.
Bear and I take turns playing with the full-grown pup, before we go deeper into the home.
It's an airy place, with high ceilings and large windows, bringing in lots of light.
Plants liven the modern lines, with paintings and photos on many walls as well.
It's a house meant to feel like a family has been living there for a decade, and always welcoming to friends.
Meeting here in the offseason is a tradition.
On the way to the terrace outside, we say hello to Dom in the kitchen. Nat gets us beers, while Damián prepares meat and veggies for the barbecue outside.
"Rafa can't make it," Damián says. "He's spending time with his kid."
We all nod. Rafa's priority is his child, especially during the offseason.
Logan and Evie arrive, and Nat brings them to the kitchen as well.
"Sorry we were running late for reasons we can't fully explain," Evie says, petting Barkley.
"We wouldn't have asked." Dom's tone is teasing.
He takes a swig of his bottle, eyes challenging on the newcomers. Bear and I smirk.
Logan ignores him. "Regardless of any other reasons, we needed to stop for this."
He gives two bottles of champagne to Nat, who puts them in the fridge.
"We have lots to tell you guys," Evie says.
We move to the terrace, where an outdoor kitchen and patio wait for us.
Damián turns to the barbecue, while the rest of us sit on the sofas and armchairs.
Just outside the living area, a large green space is kept simple except for a couple of flowerbeds and a tree.
Barkley sprints to a toy left abandoned in the grass, and brings it to Nat's feet.
Absent-mindedly, she plays catch with him while chatting with us.
Saint and Ames greet us. I sit next to Bear on a loveseat. Hah.
"So I heard something recently." Evie sips from her drink. "Logan and I came back home after our trip and, as a lowly front office employee—"
"Senior PR Exec isn't lowly," Logan complains.
"— I work standard hours including the offseason," she finishes.
"These guys don't get it," I joke. "Office work, office hours, who left the dirty mug in the sink? What about the container with food rotting in the fridge?"
"They don't," Evie adds, "but I have to admit my job does have some advantages."
"Like having a professional excuse to film us for thirst traps," Logan says.
"For sure," Evie agrees again with a glint in her eye. "But it also lets me hear things about the higher ups before anyone else."
"What did you hear this time?" Ames asks.
"Remember Williamson's machinations last year?" Evie gazes at us with a playful gleam in her eye.
It was thanks to Evie's work in the front office that we learned last season that Williamson, the GM, had been pushing to trade Saint for reasons no one could make sense of.
Ames startles and stares at Saint.
"I'm not getting traded, Divina." Saint kisses Ames' face. "We already got confirmation."
"And it still would make no damn sense," Logan says.
"Trading someone playing like you is still unheard of." Damián finishes doing whatever he did at the grill, and comes to sit on the arm of Nat's chair.
"And way too expensive for other teams," Dom adds. "Ridiculous."
"That's why Williamson is the one being let go," Evie drops.
I blink twice. Bear tenses next to me. A couple of gasps escape people around us.
"We're getting a new GM?" Bear asks.
"Yep." Evie nods. "Apparently Selena got tired of his plans— I heard she lost too much trust in him. Now they're waiting until they have an official announcement for who's replacing him before they push it to the media. Of course, that means it's already getting out."
"Any hints as to the replacement?" Nat arches an eyebrow.
Evie shrugs. "All I heard was that Selena's pick is a woman, but it's not certain yet."
"Not many people could fit that role." Dom's voice is monotone for once.
I glance at him. He drops back to lean on the back cushions, arms crossed, and a wrinkle between his brows.
Huh.
"In any case," Saint says, "that's good news all around."
"Yeah." Damián smiles. "I think it'll be a season of change."
Now it's the tone of his voice that makes us all turn to him.
He smirks while Nat takes out a long chain from under her collar. In full silence from the group, they take three rings out from the necklace. Two go to Nat's left hand, while a simple band goes to Damián's.
"Oh my God!" Evie exclaims.
"We eloped." Nat grins.
Her clarification almost disappears among the expressions of shock and delight. Bear glances at me with a raised eyebrow, and I can't help but laugh.
Elopement. As far as I ever imagined for myself. The thing I decided would never be for me, after all. But now, I'm getting married to my best friend with a proper ceremony, and a full reception, and a dress I have yet to find…
Think of getting married to me.
I have. Despite my lack of enthusiasm over picking flowers and a cake flavor, picturing it has been easier than I thought. I'm sure it means things. Probably, it's because seeing my parents be emotional and excited makes it all worth it.
This hope is what keeps me moving forward.
Otherwise, I'd be too worried about seeing our wedding as the start to a window of opportunity, where after a year of being married, Bear might decide what we have is perfectly good and everything he needs.
That he will stop looking for Future Wife, because he realized he doesn't need the kind of love that shows in a high-adrenaline chase scene— the kind that proves that if they spend another minute apart, the world will implode.
"When?!" Ames's exclamation brings me back.
"A few weeks ago." Nat's smile shines, as does her eyes. "We just wanted to be married, you know?"
"Ever since we won the championship in February," Damián says. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"That was my line," Logan complains.
Like a tennis match, we all turn to him and his girlfriend at the opposite end of the terrace.
Logan's frown is miraculously gone. Evie glows.
This time, when Bear and I look at each other, it's confusion that fills his face.
With slow movements, Evie pulls at her necklace to reveal an engagement ring.
Gasps from the rest of us.
Logan takes over. He frees the ring and puts it on Evie's finger.
"Hey—" Saint exclaims. "I thought I was the one with the cheeky chain!"
"It was the only way to surprise you guys," Evie says. "Seems Damián and Nat had the same idea."
Logan holds Evie's hand tight. "I couldn't stop thinking about proposing, especially after we won. So I proposed during our vacation."
"Wow," Ames says. "An engagement and a wedding in one single offseason. The group has been busy!"
Saint makes a pacifying gesture with a hand. "Meanwhile, I promise Ames and I have only been busy with our food baby— I mean her business. Her show. I've been an official taste tester for weeks."
For a third time, Bear and I exchange a look. Humor has returned to him. I bite my lip. He rubs my thigh.
"Didn't want the party?" I ask Nat and Damián.
"What do you think this is?" Damián asks and laughs. Barkley bumps his hand, asking for a pet.
"It's time for that champagne, then." Bear winks at me. "I'll bring it."
Before he goes back inside in search of our contraband, he leaves a casual caress on my face. Tingles take over my skin. It's anxiety for what we're about to do.
I sigh and catch Evie watching me. She raises an eyebrow. I smirk.
Whenever someone catches us being affectionate, they assume it means something romantic. I've gotten used to challenging them. Except things are changing. Ironic, that my friendship with Bear has been so tight, so close, that we're getting married. Platonically.
I bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh. It's the nerves, but it's also the irony of it all.
"Do you plan to elope, too?" I ask Evie and Logan like nothing happened.
She shakes her head. "I'd love a Fall wedding, but that may not work with the guys' schedule, so we'll have to see."
"As long as we get married sooner rather than later," Logan says, "I don't mind. If we end up getting married during a bye week, so be it. We'll keep the pre-honeymoon short, and the real thing in the offseason."
"Are you guys going on a honeymoon?" Evie asks Nat and Damián.
Nat nods. "We have a little trip planned in a couple of weeks…"
She stops herself when Bear arrives with a bottle in one hand and a tray in the other.
"Please take a glass and an envelope," he says to our friends, "but don't open it yet."
Everyone holds their glass and every couple has an envelope. Dom has his own envelope as well. Bear serves champagne and when he's almost done, he asks everyone to go ahead and read.
I bite my lip. A few waves of nerves travel through my belly. Meanwhile, Bear looks confident as he approaches me. Enviable, to be honest.
He stops by my side and bends until we're forehead to forehead.
"It's going to be great," he says.
He stands as a few gasps fill the space. In the envelopes, they just found our wedding invitations.
"It's a day of good news, it seems," he says in his deep voice. "We hope you'll be excited for us, too, and join us at our wedding in a month."
Silence fills the space. Even Barkley knows to stay quiet and study us. His head falls to the side, like he can understand what's going on.
I snort. Everyone else remains immobile. Shock is so heavy among the group, it could be sliced with a knife.
Oh, it's so, so ironic.
As I wait for everything to cut loose, I let myself react from deep in my gut, and laugh.