Page 97 of Mercy


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My dad freezes, his brow furrowing as he stares at me. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to respond, Charlie approaches us. “Hey, guys. The officiant is ready to get started.”

He wraps an arm around her waist before kissing her temple. “Okay. We’re coming.”

She smiles up at him before turning to me. I notice the way her joy fades, just a little, when she looks at me. Without a word, we head toward the altar together.

It makes me wonder if Charlie ever once thought her and I would be here. Did she envision forever with me? We were together for a year and a half. A long time for a couple of twenty-year-olds. I almost want to tell her how much better off she is now.

My gaze catches on Maggie on the other side of the venue with the women, and she glances up at me for only a moment. Just one look and it clears away the fog from the talk with my dad and the look from Charlie.

Doessheever see us getting here?

Fuck, do I?

Not exactly. At least, not like this. I see something, though. And that’s the most I’ve honestly ever thought about a woman I’m dating. I can see a future with her, and that sounds amazing.

Rule #30: A good sex joke can get you out of any uncomfortable situation.

Maggie

Weddings aren’t really my thing. The whole dressed in white with all of your friends in matching gowns just feels so cliché to me, but it’s hard to hate it all when Charlie looks so freaking happy. I didn’t take her for a traditional wedding kind of girl either, but I think a lot of her preferences changed when she met Emerson—at least that’s how it appears to me.

Luckily, she’s letting the bridesmaids wear black, and for that, I love her.

As the wedding planner starts arranging us into our places, I’m suddenly whisked back to about ten years in the past. This used to be me, not a wedding planner, but an event coordinator. I loved the control and all of the frantic energy that went along with it. It was like the more stressful it became, the bossier I could be, and now that makes so much sense. It’s amazing I never figured this about myself sooner.

When the wedding planner places me with Drake, I breathe a sigh of relief. Hunter is next to Isabel and Mia is with Beau. It’s better this way. I’m too afraid of what I’ll reveal if I have to walk down the aisle next to him. Besides, he’s still wearing that contraption, and I’d hate for anything between us to make that painful for him—meaning he starts to get hard against his will.

Okay, I guess I do, sort of want to see him squirm a little with the cage on. That’s why I put it on him in the first place, wasn’t it? Giving Beau just a hint of torture gets me more excited than I ever expected.

When the event coordinator gets the men lined up, I immediately see the problem. Drake is too tall to stand in the middle, so she shuffles them around so he’s at the end. My breath hitches as Beau is placed at my side.

I force myself not to react as his familiar scent makes its way to my nose. Just standing next to him has me feeling as if we’re exposed, as ifeveryonecan tell that I had his dick in my mouth an hour ago.

“Okay, we’ll do one simple walk-through,” the woman announces, and the entire group heads toward the staging area. Beau walks next to me in silence and we only glance up at each other once, our gazes meeting for one charged second.

We stood next to each other at parties, and it never felt as forbidden as this feels right now. And in just ten days, he’s supposedly moving with me to Phoenix. What were we thinking? How on earth are we going to pull this off without letting everyone in on our secret?

I know the mature thing to do would be to just come out of hiding, but I’ll be honest—the secrecy is so appealing. I love having Beau to myself. I don’t want to share him or our lives with anyone. I just want to have him in my bed and in my home without the entanglements of anyone’s opinions. What we have is sacred and it’s ours.

Not to mention, I’m the one who will feel the judgment from others. I’m too old for him or I’m not pretty enough, so I must be manipulating him to be in this relationship. It’s irrational to think that way, but I can’t help it. It’s exactly where my paranoid brain goes.

An hour later, we’re sitting around the table in a fancy Italian restaurant. The mood is light and happy. Across from me, Isabel is looking more and more uncomfortable as she adjusts herself around the bulging swell of her belly while Hunter and Drake both dote on her constantly. Next to me, Mia is clinging to the side of Garrett’s arm. On the other side, Beau sits in silence, clearly feeling uncomfortable in the current group of his father’s friends.

Whenever Charlie and Emerson break into anything remotelycoupley, Beau looks away or down at his menu. The urge to comfort him is too much, and I find myself nudging my foot against his, where no one can see.

When no one is looking at us, I glance up at him for only a second, our eyes meeting like some sort of secret language that no one else can hear or understand. With one look alone, we can say so much.

His leg brushes mine in return. Then I feel his fingers brush the back of my arm, and suddenly, I’ve never wanted to be home and away from people more than I do right now.

“Maggie!” a high-pitched voice calls from across the table, and I jump in shock, tearing myself away from the one person I want to be with at the moment. Charlotte is staring at me with an expectant smile, and I wait for her to clarify why she just screamed my name.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re coming out with us tonight, right? For my bachelorette party!”

I immediately shake my head. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, but…I really have to get home.”

“Oh, I know why she won’t join us…” Mia teases with a wink.

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