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I take a huge step forward, like some phantom is snatching me from between them while I sputter out words. "I...I have to...I gotta..."
They both just smirk at me now.
"You gotta...run?" Ezekiel questions, his meaning clear.
"Check on the..." I motion behind me, words and sense failing.
"You wanna make sure Charlotte has your sprinting shoes?" Jeremiah teases.
I shake my head, taking a moment to get my damn self together. "I truly cannot stand either of you."
"I wish you'd give us the chance to change your mind." Jeremiah wiggles his brows.
"Not even if it would save you from the bluest of balls." I grin, just now feeling like the effect of being between them is finally wearing off. "Now, I've got a wedding to run, so if you're both done working yourselves up for something that will never happen, I gotta go."
"Oh, my little Lexa." Ezekiel chuckles as I begin walking away.
"Not your littleanything," I shout, looking over my shoulder.
"She's right." Jeremiah hits him in the chest. "She'sourlittle Lexa."
I roll my eyes as I turn my head straight again. Reminding myself, yet again, that what I told them is true, and it has to be true. It can never happen. I can't let it happen. Even if every part of me wants it to.
Dinner, the first dance, cutting the cake, it all goes off without a hitch and then I'm paying the waiter the extra hundred before I take my earpiece out for the night. Everything's not done, but I'm going to enjoy the last part of the reception, the part just for family and close friends without having to worry about if someone will need something in the kitchen or the venue clean-up. I'll check on all of that when we're done.
"Everything was amazing," Charlotte says, linking her arm with mine as we begin walking in the opposite direction of all the people leaving the reception hall.
For them, the reception is over, and they can retire to their hotel rooms. But for the bride and groom, me, Shawn, Charlotte, Jackson, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, we're heading to the double doors at the other end of the hall that lead directly to the beach.
"Thank you." I smile at her. “You know how worried I was."
"And all for nothing." She bumps her shoulder into mine.
"Oh, there were quite a few hiccups." I chuckle.
"But you couldn't tell, so you clearly did your job well."
"You know you're in trouble, right?" I ask. "Shawn slept the whole wedding, and almost the entire reception. He's gonna be up all night with you and Jackson."
"Much to Jackson's dismay. He swears we're having sex," she says lower, snickering. "But there is no way I'm doing anything with my nephew in the room, awake or asleep."
"Yeah. It would feel like his eyes would pop open at any moment like, what the hell are you two doing?"
"Exactly. I don't even know how the hell Soph and Law have time for it since he's sleeping in their bed."
"Something tells me they find a way."
We both begin laughing, but then I feel it. The moment we get close to where Jeremiah and Ezekiel are. It's a different feeling when I can feel them looking at me. With Jeremiah, it's an eagerness, an energy like just his gaze swears to take me to places my body has never been. With Ezekiel, there's a wildness to it, an energy that vows to own me and never let go. Both feelings are far too tempting. And when I look up, there they are, standing with Jackson, looking so much alike but so different. Both have discarded their suit jackets, unbuttoned the top of their black shirts, and both even have their sleeves rolled up to the elbows just the same.
Ezekiel's chest and shoulders are wide, arms strong, thighs tight and visible beneath his suit pants. Jeremiah is a few inches taller, slimmer, but his muscles are still unmistakable with the way his shirt stretches over his chest right now. Jeremiah's hands are in his pants pockets and Ezekiel's arms are crossed. Both have beards, but Ezekiel's is longer. Ezekiel's hair is cut low while Jeremiah's hangs down to his shoulders, begging for my fingers. Ezekiel's forearms are covered in tattoos, while Jeremiah only has one that's partially visible through the top of his shirt. But their eyes, both a light brown, are focused on me as we approach them.
"May I have this walk, my love?" Jackson asks Charlotte.
"You okay?" she whispers to me.
She and Sophie know good and well how I get whenever I'm around Jeremiah and Ezekiel, even if I wish it wasn't so easy for, apparently, everyone to see.
I nod. "I'm fine. Go ahead."
