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Gulp.
He’d already changed out of his suit into a pair of gray sweatpants—help me, Jesus—and a tight black tank. The food was placed in the middle, with all the boxes opened and two makeshift plates in spots. He flipped through the channels but stopped, glancing at me as I entered.
Hawk’s eyes trailed over my body, bringing goosebumps to my skin before he noticed the bundle I held. Hopping off the bed, he took the dress from me and placed it carefully over the back of a chair as I sat everything else on the dresser.
“Dig in.” He nodded to the food, resuming his lounging position at the end.
Sitting on the other side, I picked up the stolen fork and looked at everything we’d gathered. There was steak, mashed potatoes, chicken, broccoli casserole, salad, macaroni and cheese, and even fried apples. It was a food coma waiting to happen. Taking a forkful of potatoes, I lifted it to him.
“Happy wedding feast.”
“Happy wedding feast,” he said, giving me another rare smile.
It was silent as we ate and watched an old movie on the TV, both of us in our own worlds as we gorged on the food.
“Oh, I got you something,” he said, startling me. He grabbed a smaller box off the side table and held it out to me.
Lifting the lid, I didn’t know if I should cry or laugh at what lay inside.
FIVE
BLAKE
I blinked at the wedding cake, shock and glee winning in the end, and a laugh bubbled out of me as I caught sight of the topper. I picked it up and held it out for Hawk to see. His mismatched eyes were soft as he stared at me, one corner of his mouth tilted up in an almost smile.
“Seriously? How did my mom think this was okay?”
The groom resembled a superhero, opening his shirt and showing the letter “B” on his chest, while the bride looked uncannily like Sandy from Grease before she went all black leather and curls. Her high ponytail mimicked my usual one, but the conservative dress and pink lips, as she stared adoringly at her groom, made my eyes roll. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen, highlighting just how insane marrying Brandon had been.
“Oh god.” I covered my mouth, my eyes wide as horror filtered through me. “I would’ve been B Cup. We’d be the B&B Cups,” I wailed.
Hawk scrunched up his nose and tilted his head. “I thought his last name was Cupley?”
Narrowing my eyes, I threw the ‘50s housewife-like bride at him. “Same difference. Blake and Brandon Cupley.” My body shuddered. “It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking through life for the past ten years. Why on earth would I marry someone with the same initials? It’s bad enough having Bryce with the same. People are always sending us the wrong things as it is. You don’t even want to know how many cleat chaser’s gifts I’ve been on the wrong end of.” I gagged, remembering the last one.
My mind raced with this new revelation, my earlier numbness evaporating as the reality of the situation smacked me in the face. My life had been so hollow, so vacant. I might as well have been a doll because the only purpose I served was arm candy. Mediocre arm candy at best since I barely wore make-up and was most comfortable in ponytails and high tops.
“Clearly, I chose the easiest path and didn’t question anything! What has my life become?” My tone grew more high-pitched as I spoke, panic and daunting horror overtaking me.
“You’re more of a Frenchie than a Sandy,” Hawk mumbled, fixated on the bride topper in his hand.
“Not the point!” I shrieked, finally catching his attention, and ignored how his comment made my heart leap. Why did he know me better? I’m obviously more of the oddball sidekick than the main character.
Hawk glanced up, his eyes bulging as he took in my panicked state, and he quickly sat up from his lounging position. He grabbed a fork and stuck it into the pie the attendant had given me. When the fork was full, he shoved it into my mouth, stopping my shrieks.
Sugary sweetness hit my tongue as fruit and meringue melted in my mouth. He withdrew the fork slowly like I was a scared animal about to attack. As the sugar settled into my system, I did calm a smidgeon. Damn him.
Hawk refilled the fork and lifted it again but stopped, this time to sniff it. Just as he did, I felt the telltale sign of cotton filling my mouth as my tongue started to numb.
“Shit! Where did you get that pie?” he asked, leaping off the bed and taking the fork and pie with him.
“The server gave it to me. Why?”
He didn’t answer as he searched through my bag. I didn’t even care, more focused on the weird feeling in my mouth.
“My tongue feels funny.” I stuck it out and touched it, wondering why it felt bigger than usual and like it had a ball of yarn wrapped around it.
“Here.” Hawk shoved a pink pill in my mouth and lifted a water bottle to my lips.
