Chapter 13
FISHER
I’m walking through the art district near the infamous firehouse, wondering what the hell my life is and how I got here. My roommates stroll down the street in front of me, Hazel and Ally on either side of Lila like they’re three old friends who’ve known each other forever.
“Hurry up, slowpoke.” Lila—er, my fiancée—glances back at me with a smirk on her face. She seems much less nervous this evening than she did the other night when she met everyone for the first time.
It’s wild that she fits in so well with our group, and I can’t help but wonder what it’ll feel like once she’s not in it anymore.
Will Lila carve a spot into our hearts, then leave us feeling a hole where she used to be?
Or will she drift away as easily as she came into our lives, and everything will feel like she was never here?
Do I keep using our and us instead of I and me to keep this whole charade from feeling personal? Of course not…our hearts will be just fine.
“This is so cool! Why have we never come here before?” Ally asks as she looks around the street, which is lined with tents for the local market that’s happening today, each providing various products, art, and artisanal foods.
We pass a booth selling different flavors of honey, each jar with a small piece of lace covering the lid, then tied up with twine.
“Mmm,” Penn hums, licking his lips. “Hazel, I want some honey.”
She glances at him with a heavy sigh. “I can’t take this guy anywhere; he’s always hungry.”
Ally snorts a laugh. “Maybe we should start calling him Pooh.”
Penn rubs his belly—which is actually a six pack. “Hey, my guy Winnie had the right idea with the honey. It’s delicious.”
“We’re here for wedding fanfare,” Hazel says, walking toward him and tugging him away from the honey booth.
“Let me go! I’m supporting small businesses.” He pulls his arm away, and we wait while he purchases five jars of honey and a dozen honey sticks.
“If you leave a sticky mess in the kitchen with that, I’m hauling your ass to the Hundred Acre Woods so Winnie the Pooh can deal with you, Matthews,” Noah grumbles.
Penn ignores Noah and pinches open a honey stick, tipping it to his lips.
We make it barely ten steps before reaching a booth that sells matcha powder. Noah immediately heads over to peruse.
“We’re going to be here all night at this rate,” I tease.
“Sorry, Fishy. Are we not giving enough attention to your wedding prep?” Penn mumbles around the honey stick.
“Duh, I live to be the center of attention.”
Lila shakes her head. “Once Noah is finished, I know a booth that sells vintage clothing.”
Ally claps her hands in excitement. “Hurry up, Noah!”
He waves a hand at her, purchasing a small bag of green powder then making his way back to our group.
Noah grabs hold of Ally’s hand, and Penn sidles up beside Hazel, snaking an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
I glance at Lila, unsure. She grins at my obvious indecision and reaches for my wrist so I’ll follow her.
Looking down where her hand touches my skin, I see the vintage ring on her hand.
The ring I gave her. Something in my chest swells at seeing it on her finger.
She didn’t have to wear it this evening, but she did.
I like that she’s wearing it. I probably like it too much.
I can’t resist checking her out as she pulls me along behind her.
Lila’s onyx hair is pulled back in a loose braid, and she’s wearing slouchy ripped jeans with a fitted long-sleeved top that shows how tiny her frame is.
I could probably fit my hands around her waist. The desire to do just that has me stretching my fingers and sticking my free hand in the pocket of my jeans while allowing Lila to drag me through the street by the other.
She’s smiling and energetic, and I have the overwhelming desire to keep that smile on her face. To make sure she spends whatever time as my wife, however long we’re helping each other out, happy and content.
Lila stops in front of a white tent with racks of clothing and shelves lined with bags and shoes.
“Lila! Good to see you,” a Chinese woman who looks about sixty calls out to her.
The man beside her, who looks like he must be her husband, smiles. “It’s been a while,” he says.
“I know, things have been busy.” Lila drops my wrist, and I try not to pout. She hugs the couple, then gestures toward the group of us. “These are my friends.”
The couple says hello, then Hazel and Ally are off rummaging through the racks.
“Whoa, check out this vintage Burberry coat!” Hazel lifts up a plaid trench that my mother would love. Not that she would ever be caught dead in a thrift store.
“I thought we were supposed to be finding ugly clothing?” I ask.
Hazel’s shoulders fall, and she hangs the jacket back on the rack. Her hands move across the rest of the rack before she gasps. “Fisher, I think I found your wedding suit.” She grins as she shows me a two-piece brown and orange tartan leisure suit. The pants look like bell bottoms.
“That is possibly the most hideous outfit I’ve ever seen.” Lila snickers.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “It’s perfect.”
Reaching for the hanger, I remove the jacket and shrug it on over my shoulders. It’s a bit snug on my arms, but the sleeves are long enough.
I look at the tag on the pants. “I think it’s a sign, the bell bottoms are 32x36.”
I usually have to special order pants that are long enough for my height, so whoever originally bought this ugly-ass suit had some height on him.
Noah’s jaw drops, he’s the same height as me so he understands what a big deal this is. “You’re kidding.”
Ally squeals. “Guys! There are two more leisure suits! They’re all the same size.” She’s holding two suits. One is mustard yellow, and the other is baby blue and has a vest instead of a jacket.
Penn shoves past Noah. “I call the vest!”
“You couldn’t pull off the yellow with your skin tone, anyway.” Noah shrugs.
Penn gasps in mock offense. “I so could.”
“No way,” Noah says. “You’re clearly a cool winter.”
Penn gives him a blank stare. “The hell are you talking about, Downsby?”
Ally’s head falls back as she laughs. “I’ve been on a color analysis kick, and apparently Noah’s been paying attention to the reels I watch.
” She hands the ugly yellow suit to Noah.
“But he’s right, you’re a deep winter so the blue will enhance your skin tone, while Noah is an autumn and will look dapper in the yellow. ”
Lila pumps her eyebrows. “What season is Fisher?”
I give her my best smolder. “I can be whatever season you want me to be.”
“So, the season I lost my mind and agreed to marry you?” she fires back, resting a hand on her hip with sass…but I don’t miss the start of a blush creeping up her neck.
I hold her gaze for a few seconds too long, simply because I enjoy making her squirm.
Finally, I look away, clearing my throat.
“In all seriousness, guys—and I hate to be the bearer of bad news—but all three of us are going to look ugly in these no matter what season we are, or whatever the hell Ally was saying.”
The girls laugh.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Noah admits.
“I still think I could pull off the yellow if I wanted to,” Penn mutters.
Hazel pats his shoulder. “I’m sure you could.”
“It appears they’re fresh out of wedding gowns,” Ally says, turning to Lila. “But at least the guys are covered.”
“I’m sure I’ll find something that works.
” Lila shrugs. She seems totally nonplussed about the whole thing.
She might be the least fussy person I’ve ever met, and nothing like other women I’ve dated.
Most women I date want to be with me for my status as a pro athlete.
Or back in high school and college, they wanted me for the Fisher name and the weight it carried in Georgia.
I never really cared—they gave me what I wanted, I gave them what they wanted.
Lila, on the other hand, has made her derisive feelings about my family clear, and she hasn’t asked me about hockey, or getting free tickets to a game, even once. I’m unsure she even knows what a puck looks like.
“No way!” a voice shrieks as we step onto the street, purchased suits in hand, and I look up to see a group of middle-aged women rushing toward us, as if my thoughts conjured them. “You guys play for the Lions,” the blonde says.
Penn smiles politely. “We do.”
“Can we get a picture?” Her red-haired friend asks, batting her eyelashes at me even though she’s wearing a wedding ring.
“Uh, sure,” I say reluctantly. Whether we like it or not, this is part of the job. Usually I love interacting with fans, but I was enjoying my evening with my friends…and Lila.
Noah grumbles behind me but moves to get in the picture too, the three women standing in front of us. Ally snaps a few photos with one of their phones.
The red head rests her hand on my back, a little too close to my ass. Once the photos are taken, I quickly remove myself from her orbit. Even if I wasn’t supposed to be a happily engaged man, I’ve never been one to toy with married women. That’s a hard no for me.
The blonde takes her phone from Ally, barely acknowledging her existence before she and her friends are scrolling through the photos and giggling.
“Thank you so much,” the blonde one says. “And congrats on making the playoffs.”
“Thank you,” Penn says, grabbing onto Hazel’s hand.
We quickly move away from the women and Ally sighs, turning to look at Lila. “You’ll get used to it.”
“I can’t imagine being in the public eye,” Lila says. Something moves across her features so quickly I can’t decide what it was…apprehension, maybe?
“Does that happen a lot?” Lila asks, looking up at me as we walk. “I don’t really keep up with sports, but are you guys like, super famous?”
Hazel and Ally crack up laughing. “Oh, Lila…I like you,” Hazel says. “Have you ever been to a game?”
Lila grimaces. “Like a hockey game?”
“No, a baseball game,” Penn teases. “Yes, of course a hockey game!”
She laughs. “Sorry, no. But if it makes you feel better, I’ve never been to any sports type events.”
“Sports. Type. Events,” Noah repeats slowly.
“Don’t worry, Lila,” Penn says with a smug smile. “We’ll teach you all about hockey. You’ll be a true fan in no time.”
“Puck yeah,” Noah agrees, using puck in place of the f word. It’s a stupid superstitious thing we do for good luck that dates back to the other guys’ college days…we have a chart and everything for when we slip up.
Lila wrinkles her nose, scrunching her pretty features adorably. “Honestly? I’d rather learn about that color analysis stuff.”
Noah and Penn look offended, but I laugh.
Is this what it’s like to have a girl in your life you enjoy hanging out with…
even without anything physical going on?
Is this how Noah and Penn feel having girlfriends who are a part of their everyday lives, meshed seamlessly into their friend group?
I’ve been involved with a lot of women, but they’ve all been situationships.
Mutually beneficial arrangements with no strings or emotions attached.
I was always happy that way…or so I thought. But being around Lila makes me question if maybe something was missing, something more that I never cared to look for.
A few minutes later, we arrive at another booth, this one lined with rectangular tables with clothing folded neatly on each of them and one rack in the center with dresses.
Classic rock plays from a small Bluetooth speaker, and the woman working the booth has dreadlocks and is wearing a tie dye dress.
The girls head straight toward the rack of dresses.
Lila’s slim fingers move each hanger, her hands sliding across the fabrics like she’s reading each gown, trying to connect with them.
Her movements are graceful, artistic. I’d love to watch her paint.
I bet she gets so focused and everything around her fades.
Maybe she bites her full bottom lip as she adds details and shading to the canvas.
She looks up and smiles at something Ally says, her eyes bright, her smile wide. Her skin glows under the twilight sky, making it look soft.
Her hands were smooth and warm when she clutched my wrist earlier. I wonder what the rest of her skin feels like.
Hazel pulls out a white silk gown. “This is gorgeous.” She holds it up to Lila, but Lila shakes her head.
“It’s too pretty. I’m thinking this one.” She reaches for a ruffly 1980s style gown. The monstrosity has beading galore and puffy sleeves.
Ally stifles a laugh by slapping a hand over her mouth. Hazel snickers. “Those ruffles will swallow you up, but it’s definitely not Fisher-family approved…so it’s perfect.”
“Try it on!” Ally insists, jumping up and down. She turns toward me abruptly. “Fisher, you have to leave. It’s bad luck to see your bride in her dress.”
I blink, realizing I’ve been staring at Lila as she interacts with my friends’ girlfriends and barely listening to the words they’ve exchanged.
Noah nudges me with his elbow. “Uh, Fishy, you okay?”
I roll my shoulders back. “Yeah, I’m good.”
My eyes move back to Lila, who’s being shoved toward a makeshift dressing room by Hazel and Ally.
Penn huffs a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, this is about to get interesting.”
“Yep,” Noah agrees, blowing out a breath.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Are you talking about the wedding clothes?”
Penn tilts his head and smirks. “No, we’re talking about the fact that you like Lila.”
“Of course I like her.” I tut. “We all like her.”
Noah slaps me on the back, hard. “We do not like her in the same way you do. We like her as a fun addition to our friend group…you like her like you want to stare at her forever and make babies with her.”
Penn sighs like the thought is adorable. “Little Fishers, can you imagine?”
Groaning, I walk out of the booth away from them, but they follow me. “You both are ridiculous. I can admit I find her attractive…but my feelings for Lila are totally platonic. We’re friends, and we’re both in this to save the firehouse."
Penn and Noah give each other a knowing glance.
I roll my eyes, striding forward to put some distance between myself and the two romantics behind me. They’re reading too much into this. I was watching Lila because she was holding that poofy dress, nothing more.
Developing feelings for Lila would make a mess of this whole charade…so it’s a good thing I’m not developing feelings. Nope, I have my feelings completely under control.