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“It was an easy choice,” I tell her, giving her a bright grin.
She returns the grin, her eyes twinkling. “Liar.”
I don’t even disagree with her on the accusation because she’s completely and utterly right.
By the look in Owen’s eyes, I know Angie chose the right dress.
She knows, too, the moment she sets her eyes on Owen. The big grin that fills her face, the way her eyes widen with awareness of him, and how the blush creeps down her neck means one thing—she feels gorgeous under her soon-to-be husband’s gaze. The way she should.
When Angie hands me her bouquet, she leans in and gives me a kiss on my cheek before whispering, “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
It is a promise I intend never to break. As she turns to Owen, my dude cries like a baby, and I can’t deny it is hard to keep it together. I swear there isn’t a dry eye in the place as Owen and Angie proclaim their love for each other. I watch as Owen’s hands shake with hers, how he stumbles over his words, and when they kiss, sealing the deal, even I wipe a tear from my cheek. These two are my bestest of friends, a family I’ve always wanted, and watching them become one will be a highlight in my life I’ll never be able to forget.
I stand against the bar, watching as they move around the floor for their first dance. With the way they gaze into each’s other eyes, I’m pretty sure, to them, no one else is here. I feel my lips tip up as I tear my gaze from them to look around the venue. The Parthenon is a beautiful place already, but they made sure to decorate in a regal way, with gold and white throughout the whole space. They didn’t have to do much since the Parthenon is so stunning, but what they did really added to it. Huge white flower arrangements fill each table, which is covered with a gold tablecloth. The chairs around the tables are fancy and painted gold, making it feel as if we’re in ancient Greece and Angie truly is Athena. In front of a statue of Athena is the table for the wedding party, full of flowers and gold candleholders. Along the front of the table, it reads “Owen and Angela” in elegant gold script.
It is a stunning environment.
One full of love.
I continue to look around the room for something—or, better yet, someone—to capture my attention. Of course, gorgeous women are everywhere, but most are holding on to their spouse’s or date’s arms. I should have convinced Tennessee to be my date. That would have been a blast, for sure. Man, her eyes are heavy on my mind. I wonder what they’d look like when I’m between her legs and taking her over the edge. Lost in that body that is begging to be held. I may have made a bad choice, picking this wedding over her.
But when Angie’s gaze falls on me, her lips tipping up just for me, I know that’s not true. I was there for Angie when she needed me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do for her. Remind her how fucking gorgeous and perfect she is. Help her have the confidence that she should never, ever lack. I wasn’t sure about my role as dude of the bride, but I gotta say, I killed it. I tip my beer up to my lips, taking a long pull as couples move to the floor, dancing alongside the newlyweds.
“Think I can leave?”
I hadn’t even realized Quinn Adler, Owen’s baby brother, had come to stand beside me until he spoke. I cup the love-sick fool’s shoulder and shake my head. “Sorry, dude. I was told you gotta stay.”
He doesn’t like that answer, and I don’t blame him. Who wants to watch people get married and be happy when you’re brokenhearted over a girl who says she loves you but doesn’t want to be with you? That shit makes no sense to me, but I hear no one thinks Emery Brooks is making sense. As long as I’ve known Quinn, he’s been smitten with Emery. Told me numerous times—mostly because he didn’t want me to hit on her. Not that it would have stopped me if she’d interested me. She’s beautiful but not my type.
“I wish she were here.”
I just shake my head. I heard at the last wedding, he sang to her and begged her not to leave, but she blew him off. It was completely cringeworthy and awkward, and I’m thankful I missed it. Owen gave me a play-by-play, and even that made me embarrassed for the kid. “Let’s be glad she’s not so you aren’t making a fool of yourself.”
He groans, shaking his head. “She makes me foolish.”
