Kennedy whoops and Logan says something I can’t make out above her celebration.
“Loving Amy is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” Colin says through the din. “And I want you—and the whole world—to know it. She’s gonna be living with me, permanently. Forever. She’s The One. I’m done looking, and she is, too.” He looks at me. “Right?”
“Right.”
He exhales with relief.
I roll my eyes. “You knew that, Colin.” I smile at my brother and Kennedy. “Are you guys surprised?”
Logan and Kennedy look at each other and snicker, before Logan answers “nope” and Kennedy replies, “Not at all.”
“We saw you two at the rehearsal dinner,” Logan says. “And then at the wedding reception. We’re not blind.”
“Oh my God, Logan,” Kennedy says to her husband. “I had to point it out to you!”
“Yeah, but once you did, I wasn’t blind anymore.”
Kennedy giggles.
“You’re not pissed at me?” Colin asks my brother. “Not that it would matter. I love Amy, no matter what anyone thinks. But I’d prefer not to piss you off.”
“Why would I be pissed?” Logan asks. “You’re like a brother to me. This is best-case scenario, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Me being like a brother to you is exactly why I thought you’d be pissed,” Colin admits.
Logan looks genuinely dumbfounded.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Colin says, as I swat his broad shoulder.
“Are you gonna call both sets of parents next?” Logan says. “Because I should warn you, my mother is gonna lose her shit. She’s always wanted you and Amy to get together.”
“What?” I shout. “When did Mom say that?”
“Every time Colin was a better big brother to you than me. Which happened a lot.” Logan smiles tenderly at me. “I’m thrilled for you, Amy. Always follow your heart. Take whatever path calls to you and run with it. Fuck the O’Brien way.”
I clutch my heart and nod, tears re-emerging in my eyes. He doesn’t need to explain that last comment any further. I know precisely what he means. “Thank you, Logan. I love you so much. You, too, Kennedy.”
“We love you, too,” Logan replies. “So, when did you two get together—the night of the rehearsal dinner, or did you exercise superhuman restraint and wait till the night of the wedding?”
I motion to Colin to answer my brother’s question, exceedingly curious to hear his answer.
Colin purses his beautiful lips, contemplating. “Hmm. Well, our connection started the night of the rehearsal. There was an instant attraction between us that only grew exponentially the more we talked. But we kissed for the first time at the wedding reception, so I’d say that’s when our romance began. After that kiss, it was game over. There were sparks. Fireworks. Fireflies. It was everything the best love songs are written about.”
I hold my breath, wondering if he’s planning to tell Logan and Kennedy about the love song he wrote for me, given what a natural segue his last comment would be for that part of the story. But, no, Colin’s next comment makes clear the beautiful song he wrote is a special, intimate gift from him to me.
“Now, if the question is how long I’ve loved Amy, then that’s a different answer,” Colin continues, after shooting me a shy smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “Call me a creeper, guys, but I’ve loved Amy my whole life—from literally the moment I first saw her.”
Kennedy gasps and clutches her heart, thoroughly swept away by Colin’s romantic words, and our foursome talks a bit longer about Colin’s comment and our great news in general. Eventually, however, Colin wraps up the call.
“Gotta go, guys,” he says. “There’s something I want to do, before Amy and I call our parents.” We hang up the call, and Colin grins mischievously at me. “Let’s go find Fish and Caleb. I’d love their help with something.”
We find the duo downstairs in Caleb’s living room, looking like they’re having a jovial conversation.
“Hey, guys,” Colin says, as we enter the room. “I wanna make it Instagram official with Amy, and I’d love to have you both in the shot.”
I inhale sharply in surprise, not only because Colin is willing to announce our relationship to the whole world—but because he wants to do it in such a shocking way. Since C-Bomb and Dax had their falling out several years ago, the members of Red Card Riot and 22 Goats haven’t been photographed together. And now, Colin is planning to post a photo of two members of 22 Goats with Red Card Riot’s iconic drummer . . . and lil ol’ me?
To my surprise, Caleb leaps up energetically, as does Fish, with both men saying they’d love to help out. Without hesitation, all three men huddle around me, with Colin sliding his arm around my shoulders, and Colin snaps the momentous shot. When he shows it to me, it’s after he’s already posted it to his Instagram account—and the caption he typed underneath the photo makes me feel physically dizzy:
Two Goats, a Red Card Rioter, and the love of my life who makes me swoon.
“Well, that’s not gonna fly under anyone’s radar,” C-Bomb says dryly. “In about ten seconds flat, that post is gonna break the internet.”
“That’s the idea,” Colin says. He addresses me. “You want my ex to see that post? If so, I’ll have to unblock her on Instagram.”
I can’t help snickering. “Hell yeah. I’m probably a petty bitch, but I want every woman you’ve ever dated, had sex with, or merely kissed—every groupie who’s ever dreamed of sleeping with you, every girl I saw sneaking through your side gate as a teenager, every boy who didn’t ask me to a dance in high school, and every girl who made fun of my hair growing up—to see that photo and wish they were me.”
All three men guffaw at my surprisingly diabolical response, as I break into peals of gleeful laughter along with them.
“Done,” Colin says. He grins broadly. “Now that I’ve posted it, I think we’d better call our parents, pronto. Otherwise, in a matter of minutes, someone else is going to steal our thunder and tell them the good news first.”
Thirty-Three
Colin
When Amy and I reach my moonlit bedroom—or, rather, from this day forward, our moonlit bedroom—I stow her suitcase inside the doorway and immediately begin kissing her ravenously while peeling off her clothes. I’ve had a hard-on since leaving Caleb’s house, a primal ache coursing through me like a mania to consummate the lyrics of my song—to express the same sentiments and promises contained in my lyrics, only this time with my body. If Fish hadn’t been giving Amy and me a lift home, if I’d been driving, I would have found some dark, secluded place to park, so I could have fucked my woman a full half-hour ago.
When Amy’s naked before me, I rip my own clothes off, tossing each article of clothing this way and that as I guide her to the bed. When we’re both naked, I lay Amy down onto her back and begin worshipping every inch of her, every soft curve, murmuring words of adoration as I do.