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The fire dances in the moonlight and it paints their backyard in a warm glow.
Unlike a few months ago, when I spilled my secrets to Sophie, and Owen and Mack overheard, there’s not an entire team of Revelers running around. The kids are in bed, so it’s just the four of us. Ross and Casey took Sam home a couple of hours ago because it was way past his bedtime, and Lola and Bo left shortly after they did because Lola had an early recording session planned for tomorrow morning.
“I think everything is set,” Sophie says, with so much peace and contentment it warms my heart. “Everly called yesterday to go over the last-minute details, but she’s literally handled everything. I have no idea how I’ll ever repay her.”
Owen chuckles as he kisses Sophie’s forehead. “It’s her job, babe. Trust me, she’s been paid.”
Sophie laughs, lightly tapping his chest. “You know what I mean. I feel like she’s gone above and beyond, taking on our wedding with such short notice. Most people book her a year or more in advance. I feel like she’s been a godsend and miracle worker all in one.”
“She’s been so great,” I tell her. “Especially, since a lot of what she’s done should’ve been my job.”
Being Sophie’s maid-of-honor and keeping up with the Revelers during playoffs didn’t really work out so well.
“You’ve been a little busy,” Sophie says. “Besides, we kept things simple.”
They really did. She didn’t want a bachelorette party and Owen didn’t want a bachelor party, so tonight was our joint “let’s just hang out one last time before the wedding”. Sophie opted for simple flowers and the cathedral doesn’t really need decor. It’s beautiful all on its own. Their reception is at Lagniappe, and once again, it’s just a great vibe. The only extra thing she wanted was a second line parade from the cathedral to the restaurant, but that’s not too hard in a place like New Orleans.
“I can’t wait to watch you walk down the aisle,” I say, reaching out my hand toward her.
She takes it and gives it a squeeze. “I can’t wait to do it and I’m so happy you’ll be by my side.”
“I’m ready for you to take my last name,” Owen chimes in, kissing Sophie’s neck and making her squeal. “Mrs. Thatcher.”
“I love it,” Sophie says with a wistful sigh. “Say it again.”
“Mrs. Thatcher.” This time it comes out more like a growl.
Mack and I take that as our cue to leave. “Well, it’s been great,” he says, gently lifting me off his lap. “But we don’t want to stick around and watch you consummate your almost wedding.”
Owen chuckles, helping Sophie up.
We hug and exchange one last round of “I love yous”.
“See you in the morning,” I tell her.
She smiles and I see a lifetime of memories flash before my eyes—middle school dances, sobbing over broken hearts, our mothers planning our weddings and non-existent children, the struggles of high school, and then finally feeling free as college students. Through all of that, I always knew we’d remain friends, but I never could have predicted this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MACK
“Feelslike we’ve been here before,” Ross says, placing four lowball glasses on the small table in front of us and popping open a familiar bottle of whiskey.
“And I believe I called it,” I chime in. “I remember standing in this very same scenario telling you that you would be next.”
Owen chuckles. “That wasn’t a hard call to make, seeing as you were still playing the field, Ross was already married, and I had one foot in the door.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him with a smirk.
He eyes me suspiciously. “But I feel like I can confidently declare that you will also be next and it’s not by process of elimination.”
I swallow the amber liquid Ross poured, allowing it to both burn and soothe my senses.
“Fuck,” Ross says, wincing slightly from the whiskey. “Mack has to find the balls to declare his love before you can go declaring his impending nuptials.”
Everyone laughs at my expense, but I don’t fault them, because what Ross said is true. I know I need to talk to Greer and lay my heart out there on the line, but fuck, I’ve had a few things going on and when we have had alone time, I’ve spent it worshipping her body and exerting myself so I can crash and do it all over the next day.
“To Owen,” Ross says, bringing us all back to why we’re here today. “To finding your second chance at life, on and off the field. I wish you the best, brother.”
