Chapter 10 Hope
HOPE
The music hits me the second we walk through the door. The bass thumps so hard I feel it in my chest. The clubhouse is packed with brothers everywhere, and the air is thick with the smell of beer, leather, and smoke.
Amy squeezes my arm, grinning. “Look at you, all glowy and bride-like.”
I laugh, scanning the room for Frost. My heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when I'm about to see him. Near the back hallway, I catch a glimpse of him before he disappears around the corner toward the bathrooms.
I smile to myself. He probably didn't see us come in.
“Come on.” Amy tugs me toward the bar. “Let's get a drink.”
We weave through the crowd, and Hawk spots us immediately, his face breaking into a huge grin.
“There she is!” he booms, spreading his arms wide. “The bride and my future daughter-in-law!”
“My future sister-in-law,” a voice says, coming out of the shadows.
“Paige!” I yell, throwing my arms around her.
She squeezes me back. “I told you I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Amy smirks. “I can’t believe you actually made it.”
Paige took a trip to Paris with her boyfriend for three weeks, promising she’d be back in time for the wedding. I didn’t think she was going to make it.
Colt raises his beer. “About damn time you two showed up.”
“Fashionably late,” Amy says, sliding onto a stool.
I settle next to her and Paige while Eagle waves down the prospect behind the bar. “Shots. We're celebrating.”
“Eagle, I don't know if—”
“Nope.” He cuts me off, shaking his head. “You're getting married in two days. Tonight, we drink.”
“Please, Hope,” Paige begs. “I just got off the plane and had one helluva trip and need a drink with my girlies.” I raise my brow, and she sighs. “We’ll talk about it later, I promise. Tonight is about you and Frost, and my drama can wait.”
“Fine,” I concede with a groan.
The prospect lines up the shot glasses and pours an amber liquid that I'm pretty sure is whiskey.
Hawk slides one toward me with a grin. “To Hope and Frost. May they never kill each other.”
I laugh, picking up the glass. “I'll drink to that.”
Amy raises hers. “To love and bad decisions.”
“Cheers to that,” Paige says, and we all knock them back.
The whiskey burns going down, warm and sharp, and I feel some of the tension from this morning start to ease. The worry about Frost being distant and the stress of the flower disaster fade into the background. This is exactly what I needed.
“Another,” Paige says, and the prospect pours again.
I laugh at Paige and Amy as they try to cross arms together to do their shots like a couple would drink champagne. The shot glass is halfway to my lips when suddenly it's ripped from my hand.
I gasp and spin around. Frost hurls the glass against the wall. It shatters, the crash so loud it cuts through the music like a gunshot. Everything stops. The music, the conversation. Everything. The entire clubhouse goes silent.
Frost is standing right in front of me, his face twisted with fury, his chest heaving.
“What the fuck, Deacon?” Paige shouts as she jumps off her stool.
“You stay out of this,” he barks and turns back toward me. “How the fuck can you drink when you're pregnant with my kid?”
His voice roars through the room, echoing off the walls.
I stare at him, then I look at Amy. I don’t know what comes over me, but I burst out laughing.
This has to be a joke. Some weird, prenuptial prank the guys put him up to.
Maybe Chaos dared him or something, but when I look back at Frost, the laughter dies in my throat.
Because Frost's not laughing. He stares at me like he doesn't even know me, like I'm a stranger who betrayed him in the worst possible way.
My stomach drops.
“What... what are you talking about?” I ask, my voice small.
“You know damn well what I'm talking about.” His voice cracks, raw and jagged.
I shake my head and stand up from the stool. “Frost, I honestly have no clue what's going on.”
“So, you're gonna stand there and keep lying to me?” He takes a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Is that it?”
“Lying?” My voice rises, defensive now. “I'm not lying about anything!”
Amy moves forward, her hand reaching for Frost's arm. “Back the fu—”
I grab her, pulling her back, and shake my head. “No. Amy, don't. This is between him and me.” I reach for Frost, my hand outstretched. “Baby, please, just tell me wha—”
He jerks away from my touch like it burns him. The movement is sharp, full of rejection, and I feel it like a physical blow.
“Fuck it.” His voice is hollow now, empty. “I need some air.”
He turns and walks out the door. All I can do is stand here surrounded by silence and a hundred pairs of eyes. I start to hyperventilate. I can't breathe.
Paige steps in front of me. “It’s okay, Hope. Breathe,” she coaxes. “In and out… that’s right, like that.”
I follow her instructions and close my eyes to focus on my breathing.
What just happened?
I slowly open my eyes.
Chaos steps forward, his face serious. “Hope, what the fuck is going on?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Pregnant with his kid?
The words echo in my head. Why would he thi—
And then it hits me. The phone call this morning. The florist and her insensitive comment about me being pregnant, asking if that's why the wedding was rushed.
Yep, I'm pregnant. Sure, why else would I be getting married in a hurry?
Oh my God. Frost heard me, and he thought I was serious.
“It's a misunderstanding,” I say quickly, looking at Chaos.
“This morning, the florist… she canceled our flowers.
She made this shitty comment about whether I was pregnant, like that's why we're getting married so fast. I was being sarcastic.
I said 'Yep, I'm pregnant, sure, why else would I be getting married in a hurry', but I was being a bitch because I was pissed about the flowers.” The words tumble out in a rush.
“I didn't know he heard me. I thought he was stressed because he was still sick.
If I'd known he heard that, I would've explained right away. I'm not pregnant. I swear I’m not.”
“Shit,” Chaos grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I'll go talk to him.”
I'm not listening anymore. The shock is wearing off, and now I'm fucking pissed. Frost didn't even ask me. He didn't even give me a chance to explain. He decided I was lying, that I trapped him, and he walked away.
“I think I should just call off the wedding,” I say, my voice louder than I intend.
Paige's head snaps toward me. “Hope.”
“No, I’m serious.” I'm shaking now. “If he can't even stay and fight for me, if he can't have a civil conversation about what happened instead of assuming the worst and throwing a tantrum like a child, then maybe we shouldn't get married.”
The words hang in the air, and I can feel every brother in the room watching me.
Amy grabs my arm, pulling me aside, away from the crowd, Paige right on our heels. Amy’s voice is low but firm. “Hope. Stop.”
“Stop?” I laugh, but it's bitter. “Did you see what just happened?”
“Yeah, I did. You know what I also saw?” She steps closer, her eyes locked on mine. “I saw a man who's terrified. A man who thinks the woman he loves has been lying to him.”
“I wasn't ly—”
“I know that, and you know that, but he doesn't.” Amy's grip tightens on my arm.
“Think about it, Hope. You two have been together, what, a few months?
You're getting married in two days. Everything has moved so fast. Now he thinks you're pregnant and didn't tell him. He thinks you only said yes because you had to.”
I swallow hard, the anger starting to subside.
“You've been through so much together,” Amy continues, her voice softer now. “Working through Frost’s grief over his mom, moving away from Spring Valley to live in Nevada, away from your only family. The club girl at the party for your bachelor/bachelorette party, the food poisoning, the fucking flower disaster. Every single time, you come out stronger. You think one misunderstanding is gonna break you?”
“He didn't even let me explain,” I whisper.
“And you didn't chase after him,” Paige points out. “You both fucked up. He jumped to conclusions, and you got defensive instead of going after him.”
I close my eyes, tears burning behind my lids.
“Can you really walk away from him?” Amy asks quietly.
I don't answer because I can't. I can't walk away from Frost or imagine my life without him. Even now, my pride screams at me to stay here and let him crawl back, while my heart pulls me toward the door.
“That's what I thought,” Amy says, and there's no judgment in her voice, only understanding. “You two need to clear the air and pull your heads out of your asses. You both fucked up, but you're made for each other.”
I open my eyes, looking at her. “What if he doesn't believe me?”
“Then you make him believe you.” Amy squeezes my arm. “But you have to try, Hope. You have to fight for this.”
I take a shaky breath. She's right, I have to fight for us. Even if it means swallowing my pride and chasing after him. Because losing Frost? That's not an option.