Chapter 16 Nathan
Chapter Sixteen
Nathan
Okay, so I’m a fucking coward.
I admit it.
At least to myself.
I don’t give Adrianna one single minute alone with me before the wedding because if I do?
If she looks me dead-on with those big brown eyes and actually thinks about what we’re doing?
She’ll bolt.
I know it.
She knows it.
The universe probably knows it too.
So, I use her mom and Bella as buffers.
Human shields.
Emotional airbags.
And I wow them—shamelessly—with all the celebrity perks I usually hate using.
But today? Screw it.
Today, they’re useful.
I get us whisked through the private terminal, ushered into a VIP lounge stocked with snacks shaped like gold stars, then checked into the new Vegas Stargazer, which, honestly, is mind-blowing.
I’ve been here and to the Manhattan one a few times. Usually I’m miserable, tired, or hiding.
But right now?
This is the happiest I’ve been in years.
Bella is an absolute delight.
Smart.
Funny.
Quick-witted.
Sarcastic in that dry Bosco way I remember so well.
And shockingly? She knows my music.
Most of my fans are older these days—people who discovered my first hit when they were in college and stuck around—so hearing a kid her age reference my B-side tracks nearly knocks me flat.
“So,” Bella says, swinging her legs from her spot on the plush velvet bench in the suite she’ll be sharing with her grandmother—which yes, is located way down the hall from mine and Adrianna’s suite, “how long have you known Aunt Ad?”
I’m double-checking the marriage license paperwork, making sure every last signature line is correct and that our ID copies are where they should be.
But her question halts me.
I sit down, leaning my elbows on my knees.
“I’ve known Adrianna since I was younger than you,” I tell her.
Bella’s eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod, curious. “Yeah. Why do you ask? What’s up, Bella? You can talk to me.”
She hesitates—not like she’s scared of me, but like she’s scared of the answer to her own question.
“Nothing. Well, it’s just that.” She twists her fingers in her lap. “Aunt Ad is, well, she’s like my mom. And if you guys get married, I was wondering,” she continues, her voice dropping even smaller. “What happens to me?”
Jesus Christ.
My chest caves in.
This kid.
This bright, brave, beautiful kid is worried she’ll get left behind.
That someone will take her aunt away.
That someone will split her from the only mother she’s ever known.
I slide down to kneel in front of her so we’re eye-level.
“Sweetheart,” I say gently, “look at me.”
She does—nervous, hopeful, guarded.
“You go where we go. It’s that simple.”
Her eyes shine.
“This might not be a typical family,” I continue, voice low, steady, sure, “but it’s our family. And we’re going to be a good one. I promise.”
And fuck—I mean it.
Every word.
Every breath.
Because in this moment—kneeling in front of Bella Bosco in a ridiculous Vegas luxury suite, about to marry the girl I’ve loved since childhood—I know exactly what I want.
A family.
A home.
Adrianna.
Fuck, yes—I want her.
But it’s not just her.
It’s Bella with her sharp mind and big heart.
It’s Mrs. Bosco with her warmth and fierce love.
I want all of them.
I want them to be my family.
Bella’s voice is small when she asks, “Do you mean it?”
I nod without hesitation.
Because yeah. I fucking mean it.
“I’m all in, Bella.” I hold out my hand, palm up. “What about you? I might not always get it right, but I swear to you I’ll work on it until I do.”
She stares at it—thinking, weighing, deciding—then slaps her smaller hand onto mine with surprising force.
“All in,” she says, nodding like she’s sealing a pact with the universe.
I grin like an idiot.
The bedroom door clicks open behind us, and I turn, and it’s a goddamn miracle I don’t hit the floor.
Adrianna steps out, and she looks—goddamn.
She looks fresh and beautiful and nervous and strong all at once.
Her hair is swept over one shoulder, her lips soft and pink, her cheeks flushed from emotion or stress or both.
Every inch of her is a punch to my chest. A reminder. A promise. A dream I never let myself have.
She freezes when she sees me kneeling with Bella, and I swear the whole room holds its breath.
Mrs. Bosco appears behind her and gives her a gentle nudge, smiling at me like she already knows what I’ve never said out loud.
“Everyone ready?” she asks warmly.
Ready?
I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life.
I rise to my feet, heart hammering, blood roaring in my ears. I extend my hand to Adrianna—because I meant what I told Bella.
I am all in.
And holy hell, I want this.
I want her.
I want this marriage.
I want this family.
I want this chance.
“I was born ready,” I say, and it’s the truest damn thing I’ve ever spoken. I swallow hard. “How about you, Ad? You ready?”
She looks at my hand.
Then at me.
And that moment—that one long, terrifying heartbeat—feels like the entire world balancing on the edge of her answer.
Then, she moves.
Slowly, almost uncertainly, she places her smaller hand into mine.
The second our skin touches, something clicks in my chest.
Like a lock finding its key.
Like a chord I haven’t heard in years finally ringing true.
I squeeze gently.
She squeezes back—tiny, hesitant, but real.
And whatever she thinks I’m doing this for—to protect Bella, to fix a problem, to help a friend—she has no fucking clue what the real reason is.
That I love her. That she’s mine.
That she’s always been mine.
But I’m going to show her.
I’m going to prove exactly how much she means to me.
“I’m ready,” she whispers.
And just like that—my whole damn life finally starts.