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Someone.
“Where’s Zoey?” I rush out, panic filling my voice.
“I left her back at our place. She’s still too frail to be walking about the city. I got my neighbor to watch over her for a few hours,” she assures me and smiles. “She’s okay, thanks to you. She doesn’t like the pain meds and whatever else they have her on, says they make her drowsy, but she really liked the Xbox and new games you dropped off for her. Thank you.” She reaches for my arm then, laying a hand on it. That one, innocent touch heads straight to my cock and hardens it in my tux.
“I thought she might need something to entertain her while she recovers,” I reply gruffly. Luckily, I’m saved from saying anything else when a voice cuts through the air.
“Alaric Mathew Holmes and Layla Marie Johnson,” the clerk calls.
“They are playing our song. Shall we go in?” she asks, tilting her head to the clerk.
I want to, God do I want to, but suddenly I’m frozen in place, my feet unable to follow through with my brain’s orders.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I hear myself say and immediately regret being such a fucking pussy.
Layla takes a beat and lets my words sink in.
“I’m serious. You don’t have to do this,” I repeat. I can’t tie this beautiful creature to a monster like me, no matter how much I want to. It’s selfish.
“I know I don’t, but we made a deal. You saved my sister. That means something to me. You upheld your side of the bargain, so here I am to uphold mine. Now, are we doing this or not?” Her eyebrow arches high on her forehead.
Unable to help myself, I grab her hand and speed walk us into the chambers we were just summoned to before she has time to reconsider. I squeeze her hand as we step into the room and greet the city hall officiant ready to perform the service.
It’s not how I envisioned Layla would ever get married one day. She deserves a big wedding, a fancy dress, and hundreds of guests to watch her walk down the aisle. But somehow, this little affair is more than perfect for us. Neither one of us has many family and friends, so a big wedding was never in the cards for us. I do wish I could have had the self-control to wait longer just so Zoey could be here. That’s the only thing that feels off about doing it like this.
The officiant starts his speech, but he stops when I raise one finger to ask him for a minute.
“What’s wrong now?” Layla questions, her hands perched on her hips. “You know, between the two of us, I thought I was the one who was supposed to have cold feet.”
“Give me your phone,” I order instead of fueling her sass.
“Now? We’re about to get married and you want my phone now?” She huffs.
“Yes, Layla. I’m very aware of what’s happening. Now give me your phone,” I demand.
She glances hesitantly at the officiant before looking back to me, but in the end, she gives me what I asked for. Without a second to lose, I scroll through her contact list and find the number I’m looking for. It’s not too hard to locate since she hardly has more than a handful of numbers in her phone. I open the FaceTime app and dial the number, and Zoey’s face comes up within seconds.
“Wait . . . You’re not Layla,” she grumbles when she comes face-to-face with my mug.
“That’s right. I’m not.” I grin, unable to help it.
Layla shifts from one foot to the other, mauling her lower lip as I talk to her sister.
“Do you know who I am, kid?” I ask outright, wondering just how much Layla explained about our peculiar situation.
Like Layla, Zoey pauses for a second, taking in all my features before she says anything.
“You’re him. The guy my sister is going to marry,” she finally responds.
“That’s right, I am.” I beam, pleased that Layla told her at least that much.
“Huh. You don’t look crazy to me,” she retorts pensively.
“Is that what your sister said?” I laugh, noticing Layla’s cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.
“No, not really. I kind of thought you might be. I mean, no offense, mister, but you don’t know us. Are you sure you want to marry into our family? We’re not exactly very lucky,” Zoey says solemnly. For such a young little thing, she’s very smart.
But then again, she always was.
