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I was shocked she said yes.
But I was one hundred percent game.
I've always enjoyed making people laugh and smile, but it's next level with Bella. And last night, I didn't feel any of the usual bullshit. I didn't have to step into that Joel Young, life of the party role with her.
Maybe that's not most people's idea of a good reason to get married.
I don't care.
Being with her last night felt right.
Fuck, all I want right now is to wipe all that misery off her face.
This feels right.
What else matters?
The fan is still going on about my beautiful wedding. I should pay attention, but I'm a little distracted here.
This is supposed to be the first day of my honeymoon. I'm not in the mood for celebrity shit.
The fan squeals. "OH MY GOD." She nods to the entrance of the restaurant. Bella is standing there in this prim and proper outfit. She looks like a blockbuster movie's idea of a nerd with her hair pulled into a tight bun and her collared shirt popping out of her sweater.
Nerdy and hot as hell.
Our eyes meet.
She offers me a weak smile. It's plastered on.
But then most people aren't super pumped about celebrity shit.
It doesn't mean she's miserable we're married.
Fuck, this doesn't make sense. She was happy last night. Giddy. And not drunk giddy but genuinely happy.
Right now…
The fan bounces to Bella. Then she's hugging Bella. "Your wedding was beautiful. I'm so happy for you!" She squeezes tightly. "And you, you're so pretty too."
Horror spreads over Bella's expression. She looks to me and mouths is this normal?
I nod. It is.
Her brow eases, but she's still wearing tension all over her shoulders.
I motion come here. "Sit with me."
Bella pulls away from the fan. Her eyes meet mine. She nods, okay.
The fan looks to me. "Can I take a picture of you guys? Please."
No fucking way. "Not right now, sweetie, but I promise to post some on Instagram soon."
The fan accepts the answer with a pout. She throws her arms around Bella again then she scampers off into the casino.
Bella stands there, dumbstruck. Once she's caught her senses, she takes the seat across from me.
The toes of her boots tap the toes of my sneakers.
