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“You got married by Elvis?” she asks, interest lighting up her dark eyes.
“We did,” Fiona says in a small voice.
“Congratulations,” Biba calls as I lead Fiona to the door of the suite.
“Thank you,” Fiona says sadly.
Once in the hall, I take a deep breath before I knock on Grayson’s door. When I glance at Fiona, she’s looking at me with such despair I want to gather her in my arms.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
I squeeze her hand. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. If they don’t understand—” —if they don’t forgive—“—that’s their problem. We didn’t do anything wrong. We fell in love. That’s not wrong.”
Fiona shakes her head. “It’s not.”
But it will seem like it if Bexley doesn’t understand. I give a quick knock on the door. Inside, the voices quiet and it’s a long minute before someone opens it.
“Hey,” Rachel says. “What’s up?” She holds the door open with a rueful smile. Pretending I’m stepping into the batter’s box against a Cy Young pitcher, I pull Fiona into the room.
“Fee wants to talk to Bexley, and I’d like to clear things up with Grayson.” There’s no hiding from the cold expressions on the faces assembled. “We can do this all together or separately. Makes no difference to me.”
“Bexley,” Fiona pleads, stepping forward with more courage than I have. “I couldn’t tell you, not when we’re here for your engagement. I couldn’t do that. It would spoil your weekend.”
“You got marriedand I wasn’t there,” Bexley cries. “And you marriedhimand I didn’t even think you liked him.”
Fiona heaves a deep breath and I worry about how her anxiety is dealing with this. “Can we talk?” she asks quietly.
Grayson nudges Bexley. “Go,” he says. “I’ll deal with Mase.”
Fiona squeezes my hand one last time before she follows Bexley into one of the bedrooms, leaving me with the firing squad.
“What the hell, dude?” Grayson starts.
I shrug. “She’s amazing.”
“Do you really think it was a good idea tomarryher? Bexley’s flipping out because how is Fiona going to deal with you? Her anxiety is off the charts—”
“Fiona is dealing with all of this quite well,” I say in a cool voice. “I think you should focus on that rather than on what Bexley thinks.”
“She’s her best friend,” Boen says in a voice just as cold as mine.
“And has been for a long time. You’ve known her for a long time, same as David. Have you ever seen her this happy?”
Neither one of them answer, but Rachel leans forward. “I don’t know her as well, but my impression of Fiona was like Boen—smart and quiet. This Fiona that’s here with us for the weekend is different than the one I met back home.”
“She got up on stage with the strippers,” Shae points out. “Plus, she told off Emelia. She’s really cool.”
“I would have never described her as cool,” Rachel admits, turning to Boen. “She’s a lot of things, but maybe not that. Then,” she adds, “she’s cool now, once I got to know this side of her.”
“I bring out that side,” I tell them, pride steadying my voice. “Because I love her.”
“Mase,” Grayson exhales with a shake of his head. “Seriously? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” And then I tell them about my night with Fiona after they left us at Bubbles—the talking and the dancing and the shopping, and my realization that I didn’t want the night to end. Didn’t want it ever to end. “So I got down on my knee and asked her,” I finish. “I didn’t think she’d say yes but she did and it’s been crazy ever since. Crazy good.”
“You really think you love her?” Emmett asks, his skepticism mirrored on Grayson’s face. “After one night?”
“How long did it take you to realize you were in love with Shae?” I turn to Grayson. “And you? I heard the story of you and Bexley—how it was like she hit you with a bat that first night. You were into her right away.”
