He grins. “If someone gives Raegan shit, let Torrie know. She’ll escort them out.”
“Does that include you?”
His grin spreads into a smile. “If she makes you happy, she makes me happy. But her dad seems like a real tool.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I didn’t see it coming. I thought he was a good guy.”
“He might be. We all make mistakes, and sometimes those lead to even worse mistakes. Or, he might just be an asshole.”
“Jury’s still out.”
Dad laughs. “You’re a natural.”
“Let’s go get you hitched, old man.”
Guests have been seated, and a harpist sits off to the right side, playing a song that sounds nothing like my dad’s taste in music. But I don’t focus on that for long because my attention is focused on Rae. She’s mid-conversation with Dr. Swanson, her hands moving around animatedly like she does when she gets excited about something.
“He doesn’t like anybody,” Dad says, following my gaze.
“I’m fairly positive it’s impossible not to fall for Raegan. Plus, she’s studying marine biology. Cetology, to be exact.”
“Cetology?”
“Dolphins and whales.”
“Smart girl.”
I nod.
Raegan turns in her seat, our gazes tangling. Her smile hits me like a sucker punch, my admission to my father ringing in my ears as I realize how much love I have for her.
We walk toward the officiant and take our places, and I see her eyes following me, a smile staining her lips and my memories.
The music changes and the guests stand, turning to face the back where Carol appears in a white gown. Her sister is her only bridesmaid, and like Dad and me, they walk together. I still don’t know if she’ll be in our lives for long, but for the first time that I can recall, I feel hopeful for my dad that she is.
As the ceremony ends, Dad and Carol walk past a line of applause and cheers, their hands clasped. I turn my attention to Raegan. She’s clapping and laughing at something Dr. Swanson tells her before her eyes turn to find me, then her smile grows. I cross the distance, extending my arm for her to take.
She threads her arm through mine, stepping beside me. “I’ll see you at the reception?” Raegan asks him.
He grins. “I’m hoping to see your resume this summer for my summer program. Maybe I’ll have to come pick it up so I can meet your dolphin. Blue?”
Her blue eyes grow round, and she nods. “You’re welcome anytime.”
Dr. Swanson nods, turning his attention to me. “Hold on to this one. She’s a special young lady.” With the tip of his head, he follows the crowd toward the reception hall.
She watches him disappear around the corner, and then her attention shifts to me, her eyes still bright and round as she smiles at me. It’s blinding and perfect and endless. I want to say a thousand words, all directed toward promises and declarations, but they all tangle together into three simple words that seem nearly too big. Instead, I pull her flush against me and kiss her. She places her hands on either side of my face, drawing me closer as she kisses me without abandon, her high translated into the kiss that has me wishing to leave here and now. She pulls away slowly, her smile still intact, calling for a reciprocation.
“I’m sorry I missed the conversation,” I tell her honestly.
She shakes her head. “I don’t feel like I said any of the right things.”
I kiss her again, a chaste brush of our lips that I can tell she regrets as her eyes open slowly like she was waiting for more.
“We should go in there,” she says.
“We can leave.”
“We can’t leave. It’s your dad’s wedding. Plus, there’s cake. I have rules about cake.”
Laughter hits my lips. “I thought you preferred ice cream.”
She shakes her head. “My grandpa prefers ice cream, but I’ve never discriminated when it comes to sugar.” She slides her hand down my arm, joining our hands. “Plus, I’ve never danced with you, and I’ve heard you can tell a lot about a guy by how he dances.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Her tone is a challenge, but her eyes are bright with laughter. “Plus, this dress deserves to be worn for more than an hour.”
“My floor would love to wear it.”
She tries to hide her laugh as she shakes her head. “Poppy is way better at compliments.”
I tug her back against my chest, her eyes dancing between mine. “You look beautiful in the dress, but Raegan Lawson, you could wear my jersey, sweatpants, or nothing at all and still be just as sexy.” Her cheeks color as she grins, leaving another stain on my thoughts.
37
Raegan
I take a seat at the assigned table, Lincoln at my side. He’s talking to the other three couples at our table, answering questions about Brighton’s win last night. My lips are tipped into a smile I can’t seem to fight, my shoulders relaxed with his hand on my thigh—and even with the slight chill in the air, I feel comfortable, my breaths easier.
As the table breaks into a gentle laughter as Lincoln makes a joke about the weather, I lean close to him. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I grin. “No. They’re loving your attention. Practice your interview skills. I’m just going to run to the ladies’ room and see if Mom’s texted.”
He stands, helping me up. “Don’t leave me for too long. You’re not the only one who isn’t cut out for small talk.”
I press a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Maybe we can find a restroom together on our way out.” I reach for my small clutch, smiling at the table as I excuse myself. Lincoln’s eyes are on me, heavy and intent with lust and desire—the concoction that always spikes my bloodstream and makes me feel beautiful and bold.
I make my way through the maze of tables, the intricate and colorful topiaries constructed of greenery and flowers set in the middle of each table has my gaze skipping across each candle and person and ribbon, still shocked by the utter elegance and grandiose of it all. The bathrooms are even fancy, the doors going all the way to the floor and don’t have gapes at each side, a real handle that locks on the door.
I wash my hands, memorizing the fancy details that I plan to tell Poppy about tomorrow like the neatly folded hand towels in place of an air dryer and the multiple bottles of soaps, hair spray, even perfumes that are neatly set on the counter beside an attendant who smiles at me.
“What a small world. You’re Lincoln’s friend’s sister, right?” I look up, catching the familiar sight of Nikki in the mirror.
I toss my used towel into the hole of the counter and turn to face her, guilt swimming in a tall glass of inferiority as I take in her perfect figure, flawless skin, shiny hair, and movie-star smile. I nod. “Or you can just call me Raegan,” I say, trying to laugh. “It’s a little shorter.”
She smiles. “You really like him, don’t you?”
My response is delayed, caught between honesty and remorse for having hurt her. I want to tell her it wasn’t intentional—that I would never have consciously kissed another girl’s date, that we’d tried fighting our feelings for each other, and unfortunately allowed others to get hurt in the crossfire that came with the battle of our wills and desires. “I’m sorry,” I tell her finally.