Lily

A phone rang.

Rang was probably too delicate a term. It blared like a tornado siren, ripping me from the sweet, sweet arms of sleep long before I was ready.

“West,” I mumbled into my pillow, reaching over to shove him, “make it stop.”

But the other side of the bed was cold, the covers smooth. No big, warm body. No dip in the mattress. No West to be found.

I frowned, blinking lazily, brows drawn as I looked to his side and the siren cranked from my nightstand.

And in a snap so complete that I was instantly awake, I remembered.

“Wedding day!”

Inexplicably, I was sitting up in bed, smiling, reaching for my phone like I’d been awake for hours. A picture of West and me showed behind the Accept button. My hair was in a messy bun on top of my head, my arms around his waist and his around my shoulders. And he was kissing my forehead with the most blissful smile on his face. My favorite picture ever.

Well, until hopefully today. Because it was wedding day!

I hit Accept, grinning like a fool. “Morning, Mr. Williams.”

“Mornin’, Miss Thomas For Now.”

Somehow, my smile split wider. “How’d you sleep?”

“Terrible. I think Tricky’s spare bed is stuffed with hammers.”

“Better hammers than nails.”

“I think there were a couple of those in there too. Sleeping without you is my least favorite thing in the world, next to sleeping without you in that prisoner bed.”

“Well, that was the last night for a good long while.”

“I dunno. I think I should come over and we should take a nap.”

I smirked. “A nap, huh?”

Shuffling on the other end of the phone. “Yup. A naked nap.”

“You didn’t get enough naked napping last night?”

“Lily, twenty-two minutes before you shoved me out the door at midnight is not nearly enough time for the naked napping I’d like to do with you.”

I laughed again, my cheeks tight and high and too happy to be legal. “You’ve got me all night.”

“I’ve got you forever.”

I swear, my heart burst open like a piñata. “Yes, you do.”

A pause. Footfalls. “I’m coming over.”

My smile fell like a sack of bricks down a stairwell. “No, you aren’t.”

“Oh, yes, I am.” A door opened.

My heart stopped.

I flipped off the covers and flew out of bed for the door so fast, I might have left skid marks on the hardwood floor. The doorknob jiggled just as I threw myself into the door and threw the bolt.

“Dammit, Lily,” he said through the door.

“It’s bad luck, West. What happened to Mr. Traditional? Where’s the guy who wouldn’t sleep with me until he took me on a date?”

“That guy was a sucker. Trust me, if I’d known what I was missing, I would not have waited.” The doorknob jiggled again. “Come on. I don’t believe in that hoodoo any more than you do.”

“It’s not superstition, it’s tradition. Think of how blown your mind will be by me when you see me walking down the aisle.” My throat squeezed at the thought, and I rested my hand on the door, imagining he was doing the same. “We’re getting married today.”

“Best day of my life.” His voice was tight, rough, but I could hear him smiling when he added, “It’d be better if you’d open the damn door and let me kiss you.”

Another laugh left me, though my nose burned with unshed tears. “In your dreams, Weston.”

“Only the best ones, Lil.”

All the candy from the heart piñata exploded into glitter. “Now, go back over there and spend the day getting ready.”

“You’re kidding, right? All I have to do is shower and put on my suit. Well, that, and figure out how to entertain myself for the next eight hours.”

“I’m sure Tricky and Cooper will keep you busy. Would you send Rose over?”

“Depends.”

“I’m not opening this door for you, so give it up.”

He sighed. “You’re gonna pay for that later.”

“Ooh, I hope so.”

A chuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But if you try to sneak and see me again, I’m gonna kill you.”

“We’ll see about that, Twinkle Toes.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling and smiling and smiling. I wondered absently if I’d smile enough today to actually make it stick like that. Funerals sure would be awkward.

I hated to hear him walk away. Truth be told, I really had wanted to open the door. Naked naps sounded real, real nice. But I didn’t have time to lament. Within a minute, a knock rapped.

“Hey, it’s me,” Rose said. “West is locked up, and Patrick is guarding the door, so I think we’re safe.”

I unbolted the door and opened it a crack, peeking out to make sure the hallway was otherwise empty. And, once cleared, I relaxed and opened the door the rest of the way.

Rose smiled, lips together, eyes twinkling as she passed me. “You’re getting married today! I can’t even believe it.”

I closed the door and bolted it again against my fiancé. “Me either. All this planning, and it’s finally here. So surreal.”

“Well, buckle up because it’s going to get nuts, starting in—” She looked at her watch. “—forty-five minutes. We’ve got to be at Astrid’s for hair and makeup, which means we’re in a cab in fifteen. So scoot!”

She popped me on the ass, and I yelped.

“God, you don’t have to be so pushy.”

“Being pushy is my special gift to the world. Now, go. You have a bag packed, right?”

“Yup,” I said as I headed to our bedroom.

I’d moved in with West what felt like ages ago, and Rose and Tricky had taken the apartment I used to share with her. One, two, switcheroo, and we were still living across the hall from each other. I wondered how long we’d stay here, loathing the idea of moving without them once we all started having kids.

My stomach did a little backflip at the thought. Kids. Babies. With my best friend.

Because we were getting married. Today.

Life was a beautiful thing.

It was July, and the day was set to be a scorcher. But the ballet was on hiatus for me, and NYU—where West taught—was on hiatus for him. So sticky, sweaty heat it was. And I couldn’t be happier. We had an entire month of travel planned—a European tour, ending off in Greece. And I was so ready to go. Ready to start. Ready for what was next.

I pulled on my favorite sundress and a pair of white canvas sneakers, popping into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face and wrinkle my nose at my hair, which I re-bunned and shrugged off for a mess for the professionals. And a few minutes later, I snagged my bag and was ready to go.

“Your dress is at Astrid’s right?”

“I hope so,” I said on a laugh. “I couldn’t very well leave it here. I swear, West is worse than a kid at Christmas. Knowing that he isn’t allowed to see it—or me, for that matter—is driving him crazy.”

Rose snorted. “I wonder if that’s why he was poking around in the spare closet yesterday.”

“Guaranteed.”

Rose’s phone dinged with a message. “Okay, Patrick has him occupied. Let’s make a run for it.”

I gripped my overnight bag and braced myself to bolt. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“We’re not running from the cops, Lil.”

I raised a brow. “His legs are nearly twice as long as yours. You really want to take the chance?”

She sighed. “Fair enough.” Her hand gripped the doorknob, and she looked over her shoulder at me. “Ready?”

I nodded.

“Three … two … one!”

Rose threw open the door, and I hurried out with her in my wake. And, predictably, Rose and Tricky’s door opened.

“Hang—God, Tricky, get offa me. Lily, hold up! Wait—oof!”

A thump sounded, followed by some very masculine grunting.

“Go, go, go!” Rose yelled, running for the stairs like we were heading for a foxhole under a hail of bullets, and, laughing our asses off, we sprinted down the stairs, hanging on to the handrails so we wouldn’t break an ankle.

We burst out the door and onto the sidewalk, giggling and panting, and Rose bent, propping her hands on her knees. “He’s impossible!”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Lily!” I heard from in the stairwell. “Lil—goddamn it, Tricky, leave me be!”

“Shit!” I hissed.

Rose and I took off, screaming, Taxi! at the top of our lungs, diving into the backseat of a cab the second Rose could reach the handle.

We slunk in the seat like teenagers hiding from the cops, bent awkwardly against the door, huffing.

“Seventh and Grove, please,” I said.

“The Village?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you, and hurry!”

I snuck a glance as the cab pulled away just as West shot out from the building with Tricky on his back like a spider monkey, and I died laughing.

“I cannot believe him,” Rose said, cackling at them through the back window.

“At this stage of the game, I think he’s just trying to make a point.” I sat, adjusting my bag and unfolding my legs.

Rose pulled a notebook out of her bag and flipped it open, scanning the page. “Okay, Maggie is meeting us at Astrid’s, and we’ll have three hours to get all of our hair and makeup done. I’ve ordered lunch from Taco ’Bout It, and after Astrid’s, we’re off to the loft.”

“Look at you, all organized.”

She shrugged. “Just doing my duty as your Maid of Honor, AKA Literal Best Friend Ever.”

“Cam did it all, didn’t she?”

“Yup, sure did.”

I chuckled. “Honestly, as long as it gets done, I couldn’t care less how.”

“Exactly. So why not have a pro handle it? Intelligent delegation is the key to success. She’s got a full-blown itinerary for deliveries, and she’s meeting the caterers, florist, and DJ there to make sure everything is on track. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a headset and printed out, highlighted lists for us to abide by when we get there.”

“Give that girl a raise.”

“Psh, she almost makes as much as I do. Of course, she works twice as hard, so I probably shouldn’t complain.” She snapped her little book closed as her phone buzzed. She scanned her screen. “Okay, everyone’s there except us. Maggie’s got coffee and donuts.”

“Bless her.”

“Only one. You don’t have any Spanx, and your dress fits you like a glove.”

I raised one brow. “Says the girl who ordered tacos for lunch.”

“For your information, sassy, I ordered you a bowl instead of tacos.”

“Ugh, what a tease.”

“You’ll thank me when you don’t have a little tortilla baby in that dress.”

I laughed. “You really are the literal best friend ever.”

“I know,” she said with a sideways smile that stretched genuinely. “So are you. And I am so happy for you.”

Tears pricked my eyes again, and I wondered how many times I was going to cry today. “I love you, you big old schmoop.”

“Don’t let it get out. I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

And with that, we laughed our way downtown to my sister’s place. She lived in a gorgeous apartment in Greenwich Village, afforded by her status as a well-known model. And by well-known, I meant her face was on a billboard in Times Square and in at least three magazines at the checkout at the grocery store. Four, if you included Star.

We floated out of the cab and up the stairs to knock on Astrid’s door, which she answered with a mimosa in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Oh, good. You’re here.” She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me in. “We’ve got to get started.”

I eyed the box of donuts longingly as I passed them. “Hang on, let me get a—”

“I’ll bring you a donut. The pink one with cream cheese frosting inside.”

I relaxed. “You’re a good sister, Astrid.”

“I really am,” she said over her shoulder at me with that aloof smile of hers still on her lips.

Maggie lit up from a chair in the kitchen, next to the empty one where Astrid deposited me. “Lily! Mornin’! Did you get a donut?”

“She did,” Astrid answered, displaying one in front of me. “And a mimosa.” She offered one as well.

“How did you—”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all. I have a tray prepped. Or Alfonso prepped a tray, and I took one to give to you. Same thing.”

I laughed and shoved the donut in my mouth. Five bites, and it was gone.

Astrid looked unamused. Maggie stared at my mouth, trying not to gape. Rose was unaffected—my donut annihilation was nothing compared to what I could do to a bacon cheeseburger.

“What?” I asked with my mouth full.

“Nothin’,” Maggie said cheerfully. The hairstylist behind her was working through her curly blonde locks, which had grown to halfway down her back, and it looked like he was prepping for an elaborate braid. “Oh, we should toast!”

“On it,” Astrid said, turning for the kitchen island and placing a mimosa in Rose’s and Maggie’s hand. Graciously, she slammed her own mimosa and filled up a fresh one.

“Rosie, you do it,” Maggie beamed. “Yours are always the best.”

She laughed and raised her glass, her face pinching in amused thought. “Hmm … okay, okay.” Her glass lifted an inch higher. “To happily ever afters, babies and mortgages, tax deductions and someone to grow old with. But most importantly—here’s to steady dick.”

With a roar of laughter louder than four girls, a hairdresser, a makeup artist, and a houseboy named Alfonso should have been able to supply, our glasses touched rims with a sweet tink, and we drank to my future.