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After what feels like an endless walk, the wide corridor ends in a large atrium. But I still see no evidence of a wedding. High above, an enormous wall clock ticks the passage of another minute.
This is about to be a problem. I’m picturing Tess wringing her hands somewhere in the depths of the Palace Hotel and cursing me out for shirking on bridesmaid duties.
“Cool, you finally showed up.” A big hand touches my right arm above the elbow.
Instinctively, I wrench my arm away.
Then I turn my head and come face to face with Emerald City’s beloved hometown sports legend. The man who fires a fifty yard pass with the ease of swinging a badminton racket, absorbs crushing hits from giant men with good cheer and is arguably the most idolized player in pro football.
“Conner Wiseman.” I don’t know why I felt the need to speak his full name.
Faces swivel our way. Audible gasps are heard.
I’m tall and I’m wearing heels but I still need to look up to meet Conner’s blue eyes, which are gleaming with amusement.
“Haven Marchenko,” he bellows.
Then he opens his arms for a hug. He’s not getting one and I don’t think he expects to. He’s just being obnoxious.
But the sight of Conner in a tux leads me to the conclusion that there is absolutely no fucking justice in the world.
I mean, it should be illegal to look this good and flaunt it so casually. His shoulders are wide enough to block the sun. His jawline is a work of art. He wears his dark blond hair the same way he always has; short and combed neatly, parted on the right side.
I’m a little pissed at myself for having instant recall of this last detail.
But I’m a lot more pissed about the way my heartbeat speeds up while I can’t figure out what words should come out of my mouth. I don’t get nervous around men, not even the ones I’d enjoy seeing naked.
So what the hell is up with this sudden schoolgirl stupor?
My blood sugar must be dropping. I did skip lunch.
Seeing Conner here is certainly no surprise. And I’m very aware of what he looks like, how he’s bulked up into a muscled demigod since high school. After all, I never miss watching his games. I’m just a big sports fan. That’s the only reason.
Conner drops his arms and patiently waits for my appraisal to come to an end.
Somehow I’m positive he hears the thoughts storming through my head and finds them hysterical.
“You look different,” he says, and from the way his eyes rake me over, it’s clear he approves of the change.
My tongue gets temporarily stuck in my mouth.Pathetic.
“Well, you look the same, Conner. The wedding is about to start.”
“Nah, we’ve got time.” He leans against a marble pillar, happy to remain right here and continue this unspeakably awkward conversation.
I don’t feel the same way. “Can you just tell me where to find Tess?”
“Yup.”
I wait.
He smiles.
Seconds pass by while he just stands there grinning.
“Conner.” I chew out each syllable. “Cut the shit. Where the fuck is the wedding?”
He lets out a low whistle. “So youarestill like this. I was told you’d mellowed.”
