Chapter Thirty-One
A string quartet begins to play, and a hush falls over the pretty glass chapel. Latecomers rush to find seats, stealing furtive glances around the room as though checking to see if anyone has noticed their tardiness. The song ends and a new one begins. I recognize this melody, though I can’t name it. Guests stand, rivaling the sound of the music with the rustling of jackets and the scraping of shoes against the wood floors. Moments later, the room stills as we await the bride.
“Oh my God, Katie. It’s your boyfriend,” Craig says in a stage whisper.
I roll my eyes and look up, knowing I’ll see an overly hairy dude or an old guy in a swanky suit—Craig’s idea of wedding humor. But it’s neither.
In the doorway, waiting for the cue to walk down the aisle, is Ryan.
Or not.
His hair is wrong—all short and spiky—but the face… I shift my eyes to his knuckles. No tattoos. It has to be his twin. But how? He walks down the aisle with Hannah’s oldest sister on his arm.
The next couple steps forward, and I squeeze the bench back so hard my knuckles turn white. This time, there’s no doubt. It’s Ryan. It’s in his posture and the easy way he holds Isabel’s arm in his. I bet she feels safe, like if one of the hanging light fixtures suddenly fell, he’d protect her. The black tux he wears hugs his broad shoulders as if it’s made just for him. And anyone would notice how muscular his thighs are beneath the smooth fabric. He looks like a clean-cut rebel.
My mouth goes dry, and I clutch Craig’s arm. My knees suddenly feel like they might give out. I stare at Ryan as he passes. His hair is shorter since I last saw him. It makes me wonder what else is different about him. Are he and Jasmine together? God, I don’t even know if he still lives in town. I’ve made a point to avoid his street at all costs. The bridesmaids and groomsmen reach the front and separate into two lines. I release my grip from Craig’s arm and grab his hand.
“Ick. Your hand is sweaty!” he whispers, tugging his from mine. “Don’t freak out. If you perspire on your gorgeous dress I’m going to rip it off and strangle you with it. Pull yourself together!”
He’s right. There’s no need to freak out. So Ryan’s here. His twin is here. No big deal.
I just need to make sense of all this. My brain scrolls through possibilities and stops on Hannah’s words: he’s amazing…not sure if he’s your type…we love him. Ryan is the friend she had mentioned who lives in a town with the name Playa. I should’ve asked for more details that day, but as I recall, I was feeling optimistic about Edward.
The first notes of “Wedding March” play, and I turn to see Hannah with her father. A lump forms in my throat. He leans to whisper something, and she nods before looking up at his face. She mouths the words, “I love you, Daddy.” He kisses her head, and I can practically hear him say, “You’ve done well, buttercup.” Whether it was soccer, schoolwork, or something else, that’s what he always said. My heart blooms for her, for them. But tiny petals of it fall as I imagine my future wedding. My dad won’t be there to walk me down the aisle. He won’t be there to touch his nose to mine and call me Katie-Kat. Tears slide down my face, but I don’t bother to wipe them away.
It’s a happy occasion, I remind myself. As Hannah walks down the aisle on her father’s arm, whispered compliments waft through the air.
The officiant expounds on love and trust and knowing, and I wonder about the knowing. Does it hit you right away, or does it take time? Alex repeats, “I give you my heart. I have no greater gift to give.” The words are so pure and simple, yet they mean everything. My gaze travels back to Ryan.
His eyes skim the rows of benches where the guests are seated. Does he sense my gaze? Can he feel the pull of my stare?
My heart flips as he locks his eyes on mine. I lift my hand in a tiny wave, never moving my eyes from his. When he turns his attention back to the bride and groom, a hint of a smile hangs on the side of his mouth. I want to think I put it there. My skin itches with the need to talk to him.
When the officiant announces Hannah and Alex as husband and wife, the guests stand and cheer, spurring a long kiss from the newlyweds. And that’s it. Sixty seconds ago they were just a couple in love, and now they’re married. Now they’re permanent.
Craig and I trail behind a long line of guests as we exit. Bits of exuberant conversation about the bride and groom float around us as we gather on the stone steps. I try to copy their enthusiasm, but my mind is stuck on Ryan.
Finally, an usher directs us to the reception area down a grassy slope. “You’re quiet.” Craig takes my arm as we walk.
“I don’t mean to be. The ceremony was beautiful.”
From my peripheral vision, I see lines on his forehead appear as he makes a wry face. “Did you see any of it, or were you too fixated on your boyfriend?”
“Craig!”
“What? No wonder you’re all wound up about the guy. He’s even better in real life. He has that badass vibe going and those soulful eyes.”
We resume walking. “It’s killing me.”
“It should excite you. Enjoy the moment, okay? What are the odds that he’d be in your friend’s wedding?”
“You’re right.”
“Per usual. It’s like fate.” He grins. “Now let’s check this place out.”
The reception hall looks like something out of Coastal Living, with wide-planked blond-wood floors, a white exposed-beam ceiling, and floor-to-ceiling windows all around. Glass vases filled with creamy hydrangeas and ruby roses sit centered on tables. We wander to the huge windows, only to realize they’re actually sliding doors, giving the illusion of no barrier between inside and out. Waves slap softly against the rocks below. Everywhere I look is ocean. I see the beach every day, so I can’t imagine why it would look different here, in this setting, but something about being high on a cliff, surrounded by potted trees covered in twinkling white lights, makes the ocean look magical. Up here, I don’t have to watch out for a wayward kid on a skateboard or an overly focused bike rider yelling, “On your left!” as he speeds past.
We watch the sun dip into the ocean. Going, going, gone. The ocean swallows up the last bit of sparkling gold.
“This is definitely a romantic setting, Katie. Perfect for a kiss.”
“Oh my God. I’d die to kiss him again. Am I blotching? I feel like I’m getting hives.”
He stops and turns to me. “You’re fine.” He tilts his head. “Well, you may be a little spotty, but who cares? You’re beautiful. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”
“Right. Thanks.” I exhale and tell myself to calm down. “Have you seen anyone interesting tonight? The bartender is pretty cute.” I motion to the guy with slicked-back hair making drinks over by a wooden dance floor to our right.
“I’m not really looking right now.”
“What? You’re always looking.”
Craig stares at the darkening ocean, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he seems a little unsure. “Maybe I’m in like with someone.”
“Wait. Not Blake?”
“No, a guy I met in the hot-food section of Whole Foods two weeks ago. He’s awesome.”
I link my arm in his and rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy for you. Give me details.”
He tilts his head onto mine, and we stare at the ocean. “The first night we hung out, we talked until two. I mean, we had some drinks and food, but it was mostly talking. We’ve seen each other every day since then. He’s kind of blown my mind.”
I bump my shoulder to his. “I could make a joke about blowing something.”
He bumps me back. “I’m glad to see you’re coming around, Katie. Get it? I did it again.”
“You’re too much.” I shake my head, smiling. “Seriously, though, I’m really happy for you. Will I get to meet him?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s head back in and find some wedding-wear disasters we can dish about.”
As soon as we’re inside, Craig moves to block my view. “Uh-oh. Don’t look now, but your man is walking in. And just so you’re prepared, he’s with a girl. She’s not wearing a bridesmaid’s dress.”
“Oh, man. This is going to be harder than I imagined.” I clench my teeth. “Does she have spiky hair and dimples?”
“Not even close.”
My shoulders sag with relief. But then another thought occurs. Just because it’s not Jasmine doesn’t mean he hasn’t already found someone else. I take a breath. “I can’t let it get to me. This night is about Hannah and Alex. We’re here to celebrate them. My feelings can wait.”
“Do you want me to go flirt with her? It’ll be a good distraction. I’m a skilled wingman.”
“Very funny.”
“I’d do that for you, Katie.” His eyes grow wide. “Hurry. Look now. He has his back turned, but you can see her. The one in the blue dress.”
I surreptitiously peek past him and see a willowy girl with her hand on Ryan’s arm. Her dark hair is twisted into a low knot. She turns slightly. “It’s his sister,” I whisper. “I met her once.” And saved her child from rolling into the street.
Throngs of wedding guests begin crowding the door across the room, blocking my view. They applaud and catcall as Alex and Hannah arrive hand in hand, wearing huge smiles. People swarm around them, wanting to touch them, as though they can steal a little bit of the wedding magic for themselves.
“Let’s say congratulations.” Craig grabs my hand, and we walk toward them.
He manages to finesse a trail through the mob of people to Hannah. She draws me into a hug. “Katie! I’m so happy to see you.”
“Aw, sweetie.” I dab at my eyes. “You’re married. Can you believe it?”
“No. And yes. Oh my God. It’s all so surreal.” She hugs me again.
“I love you, Hannah.” I start to introduce her to Craig when she’s pulled away by another well-wisher.
“I love you, too! We’ll talk again soon,” she calls. “I promise.”
We make our way through the crowd until I see a familiar face. “Hi, Mrs. Reynolds!”
“Katie Capwell. It’s been too long, dear. How are you?”
I smile at Hannah’s grandma and hug her. “I’m great. Thanks.” As I pull away, Ryan appears right behind her.
“Hey, Mrs. R. You better save a dance for me tonight.”
“Oh, Ryan dear. I wouldn’t miss it.” Her eyes twinkle when she talks. He even has a way with the older ladies.
Tossing a grin my way, he says, “You should’ve seen her at the rehearsal dinner. This lady has some serious moves.”
She pats his arm. “Ryan, this is Katie Capwell. She’s one of Hannah’s oldest and dearest friends.”
“We actually know each other.” His expression turns serious, and he pins his gaze on me.
“Well, I’ll leave you to chat, then. So nice to see both of you.”
Ryan looks from me to Craig. I should say something. Anything. But I’m too flustered to talk. Craig nudges me, and I find my voice. “Uh, Ryan, this is Craig. Craig, Ryan.”
Ryan offers his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
They shake, and Craig turns to me. “I’m going to hunt down a drink. Can I get either of you something?”
I squeeze his hand. “Thanks. I’d love a glass of wine.”
Ryan holds up a hand. “I’m cool, but thanks.”
Craig rushes off, and I’m left standing with Ryan. If he were to look, I’m fairly certain he could see my heart pounding against my dress.
“Hey,” he says, that half grin hanging on his lips. Damn. I’ve kissed those lips.
“Hi.”
He looks to the ground, wearing a soft smile. When he looks up, his eyes are cautious. “I’m surprised to see you here. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has.” Too long.
“You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.” I wish we could toss aside all the formalities and talk like we used to.
“So, uh, you grew up with Hannah?”
“We met in middle school. How do you know Alex?”
“We were next-door neighbors until we graduated from high school. He’s like a brother to me. Speaking of brothers, we got the tae kwon do studio.”
“You did? That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”
He starts to say something when a teenage girl rushes to him. “Ryan, Mom said to ask you for your jacket.”
“Why?”
Her eyes plead with him. They’re the same green as his. She has her arm pressed to her side, and she points to it with her free hand. The zipper on her dress is broken.
In a quiet voice, I say, “I can fix it if you want. I have a sewing kit in my purse.”
She whips to face me, keeping her arm glued to her side. “Really?”
“Yep.”
Ryan shakes his head. “You have a sewing kit? You’re like a Girl Scout. Always prepared.”
“Gran taught me well.”
The girl smirks at Ryan. “Looks like I won’t need your jacket after all.”
With a laugh, he says, “This is Gabby, my little sister. Gabby, this is Katie.” The look he gives me when he says my name makes everything disappear for a moment. It makes me feel like possibilities are in the air.
“Nice to meet you,” Gabby chirps, breaking the moment. “Thanks for helping me.” We make our way to the bathroom, and she keeps a running commentary.
“Go into one of the stalls and then pass your dress to me, okay?”
She clicks the lock on the door. “So how do you know my brother?”
“I was one of his clients.”
“Oh. He’s a pretty good teacher. He showed me some cool self-defense moves not too long ago. He was going on and on about how one of his clients went on a date with some jerk who chased her down the street, and if he hadn’t been there, he didn’t know what would’ve happened. It freaked me out. Here’s my dress.” She passes it over the stall door, and I take it, my mind stuck on her words. Ryan was talking about me. That has to mean he cares. I think. Possibly. “Will it take long?” she asks, pulling me from my musings.
“It’ll take only a second. It’s along the seam, so it’s an easy fix. Cute dress, by the way.”
“Thanks. My mom helped me choose it. I wanted this beautiful red one, but she said it wasn’t okay to wear to a wedding. And I was like, ‘But it’s okay for Emily to wear blue?’ She said navy is subtle. I reminded her that Ry’s tattoos aren’t exactly subtle, but she said he’s an adult. I made my point, though.” As she rambles on, it strikes me how different I was at her age. The fear of upsetting someone by expressing a dissenting opinion was crippling, so I never spoke up.
“Your mom gave you good advice. You never want to outshine the bride, and red has a way of stealing attention.”
“Huh. I didn’t think of it that way. I assumed my mom thought it was too mature for me.”
“Maybe that, too.” I smile. “Here’s your dress. As good as new.” I pass it over the door.
“Thank you!” Seconds later, she bursts from the stall. As we head out, she rushes ahead of me. “Thanks again. I’m going to find my mom to tell her. See you later.”
I hang back, watching her go. Maybe I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of her mom—Ryan’s mom. I’m curious to know what she’s like. His whole family must be here, but the crowd swallows Gabby, and I’m left standing alone.