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Thankfully, Lesley didn’t have to explain, because the lights dimmed and the DJ announced the wedding party was ready to get the night started. They danced into the room one couple at a time to the song “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas—which was a little cheesy, but also very… them. Owen’s brother and Sarah’s sister took turns sling-shotting each other as they entered the room, and some dark-haired guy leap-frogged over Vicki, who proceeded to crawl through his legs. And then Mason and Jenny danced into the room like they were doing a waltz, him with a flower from her bouquet in his mouth. “My daddy looks so, so handsome,” Finley said, wiggling around on my lap.
“You’re right, he does.” The words sort of slipped out—I only hoped the rest of Mason’s family couldn’t hear.
“And now, introducing for the very first time—Mr. and Mrs. Gardner!” the DJ boomed. Owen and Sarah came through the door hand-in-hand, and he dipped her backwards to kiss her, pumping one fist in the air like Sarah was a prize he had a won. And in a way, I guess she was.
Daya and I were absolutely ravenous by the time the meal was served. After clearing about a fourth of her plate, Finley asked me if she could be done—as though I had some kind of authority. “Yeah, I guess so,” I told her. She decided there were some balloons on the dancefloor that needed popped. Mason’s mom wandered off to talk to someone at a nearby table, and the second she was gone, the groomsman with the dark hair took her empty seat.
He had piercing gray eyes and a chiseled jawline, and he carried himself like he knew he was attractive. “You look familiar,” he said, scooting his chair closer. He was clutching a bottle of beer to his chest. “Have we met?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He held out his hand. “Xander.”
“Kendall,” I said, shaking his hand. His grip on me lingered a bit too long for my comfort, but the way he stared at me was even more unsettling. “So, um… are you a friend of Owen’s?”
“I’m his best friend,” he said, a bit too confidently. “And you—you’re a teacher at Sarah’s school, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well, you’ve just got this inherent warmth about you, this ‘educator’ vibe—I could sense it right away.”
Daya touched me on the shoulder. “I’m going to go get a drink,” she said before getting up. I tried to beg her with my eyes to stay, but she didn’t get the message. I was stuck with this guy.
“I’m a writer,” Xander said as he set his beer down, giving the impression he planned on sitting here for a while. He had somehow inched closer without me noticing.
“Okay. What do you write?”
“I’m a journalist. I strive to, you know, take the mundane and turn it into a captivating story. Reveal the hidden gems within the everyday occurrences of small town life. That kind of thing.”
I almost laughed. “You’re a reporter for the Woodvale Times, you mean?”
“Uh, yeah,” Xander said, blinking a couple of times. And then he cleared his throat, wrapping his fingers around his drink. “So tell me, Kendall, what’s your story?”
Oh, God. I couldn’t take it anymore. Luckily, Mason swooped in behind me at that very moment, placing one hand on the back of my chair. “I see you’ve met Xander.”
“You two know each other?” Xander asked.
“Oh, you don’t remember the conversation we had when you pulled her pic up on the Grissom website and asked if she’d be at this wedding? Or what about when you tried to get her number from me last week?”
If looks could kill, Mason would’ve dropped dead. Xander looked like he wanted to strangle him. I pressed my lips together tight to hold in the laugh that threatened to escape. Mason’s other hand found its way to the back of my chair, and his closeness suggested a more-than-platonic relationship between the two of us. Right now, though, that didn’t seem to matter to him. He just wanted Xander to back off.
“That doesn’t ring a bell?”
Xander sighed. “We were having a nice conversation until you interrupted us.” He looked at me. “Weren’t we?”
I didn’t take my eyes off of his when I said, “Is that what that was? I thought you were just listening to yourself talk.”
A couple feet away, Mason’s sister let out a hearty laugh. And Xander, deciding he’d had enough, snatched his beer off the table and rose to his feet. And though he had a mischievous grin on his face, he pointed a finger at Mason, saying, “Fuck you.”
“You wish,” Mason muttered as Xander walked away.
I joined Lesley in laughing as we watched Xander return to his spot at the head table. “I knew I liked you,” Lesley said, tossing an ice cube into her mouth.
Mason leaned over my shoulder and brought his mouth to my ear. “I didn’t mean to get all ‘touch her and die’ just now, but that guy pisses me off,” he whispered. He placed one hand on the table beside me, the other still on the back of my chair. I could only imagine what his sister was thinking about the way his body hovered over mine.
When I turned to face him, our mouths were dangerously close. “You’ve never been sexier to me than you are right now,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear. I watched his eyes drop to my cleavage.
“I want to tear that dress off of you and do unspeakable things to you,” Mason said, his voice low and husky—the way I loved it.
