Once we arrive in Seattle, a car picks us up at the airport and takes us north into Seattle. Shade does the photo shoot with Gnarly Productions first, meets with representatives from Honda and Fox Racing, then it’s onto the hotel where the wedding will be held.
I thought for sure Izzy would want to get married someplace other than the hotel she works for, but apparently, Mila hooked her up.
Shade and I. . . we have separate rooms. Thankfully! There’s no way I can handle sleeping in the same room with him. And get this. Shade’s not staying in the penthouse suite. Nope. Izzy and Zane have it for their wedding night. I know what you’re thinking, who’s Zane? Well, Gigantor has a name, along with what I’m convinced might be a foot-long cock.
That night, Shade goes to dinner with sponsor reps while I go out with Mila, Izzy, and Mila’s newest BFF Jacey, to celebrate Izzy getting married tomorrow, and Mila being engaged to Caleb.
While I like Jacey, I’m not excited she has my best friend’s attention now. It’s almost weird being back in Seattle, like my life here doesn’t exist anymore and my friends have moved on. Not that I expected they wouldn’t, but it makes me realize how much I’m enjoying being in Pasadena with Shade and his brothers.
The day of the wedding is when the real shit happens. And by shit, I mean shit show.
Mila outdid herself with helping Izzy plan her wedding, and I feel like a real asshole, but I can’t deny how beautiful everything looks.
Including Shade. Did you see him just walk in? If you didn’t, just look around to where all the women are now gathered.
Have you seen Dirty Dancing? Who hasn’t, right? It’s a classic. Anyway, you’ve seen the part where Patrick Swayze walks into the hall at the end of the movie?
Of course you have. Again, classic.
So picture that scene in your head and look toward the entrance of the garden terrace. That’s exactly how Shade walks in wearing a suit. A motherfucking black suit with a black tie and everything. And his sunglasses. You didn’t expect anything less, did you? It’s like his security blanket he can’t let go of.
I’m half expecting him to come up to me, grab my hand, tell Izzy, “Nobody puts Scarlet in a wedding,” and then pick me up bridal style and carry me upstairs to the penthouse suite where we make love, and he impregnates me with his cocky-as-fuck, adorable blue-eyed babies.
That doesn’t happen though. He’s caught by a group of women drooling over him and asking for his autograph. He stops for them, his shoulders stiff. He doesn’t lift his shades, and I know why now. This guy these women are drooling over, he seldom exists. The real Shade, the one behind the sunglasses, he’s so much more than these women could ever imagine.
Sadly, I was one of those women. Before I knew him. I saw the hot, adrenaline-seeking badass, not the insecure, vulnerable recluse who hated what this lifestyle and the sport had done to his private life.
“You’re so hot!” one of the women old enough to be his mom purrs, tucking her arm in his.
He doesn’t seem to acknowledge the words as he rubs his hand along his stubbly jaw, his head bowed as he signs the woman’s chest.
He glances my direction, but I can’t tell if he’s looking at me, or Mila, or someone else. Familiarity relaxes his shoulders, and he turns away from the women and toward me. Suddenly, everything around me blurs, except him. It’s like a photo effect, one where the sides blur and focus on the image in the center. He is the center, brash and rebellious by nature, but in this moment, he’s none of that. There’s a wall of desolation around him.
Mila stares at him, her eyes wide. “Holy shit. You brought Shade? And he’s signing Izzy’s aunt’s tits?”
I let out a slow, even breath, and put on my best smile. I bite my lip nervously. The last thing I wanted to do today was ruin Izzy’s wedding by bringing someone famous, but fucking hell, I don’t regret it. Look at the man in a suit. Totally worth ruining your friend’s wedding. Also, I’d like to point out Zane is a professional hockey player and his best man is an actor in a hit movie. Shade isn’t even the most famous dude here, but he’s certainly the hottest. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“He pretty much told me he was coming with me and then scheduled a photo shoot to make it seem like it was for work.”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “Well, that’s okay. I’m sure Izzy doesn’t mind at all.”
I turn to face her, cupping her pretty caked-on makeup cheeks. “So. . . are you excited? In just like what, four months this will be you getting married!”
Her fake lashes flutter, and she draws in a shaky breath, smoothing out her dress. “Nervous as hell. Why does he want to marry me?”
“Because you’re Mila Wellington and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
“True. There’s that.”
I grab her hand. “Now, let’s get Izzy Bizzy married.”
THE WEDDING CEREMONY itself is like any other wedding. They said their vows. Not much to it, and Zane kisses Izzy inappropriately and grabs her ass like a fucking man to gain whistles from the entire Vancouver Canucks hockey team in attendance. Everywhere I look there are big as fuck hockey players and if I wasn’t so into the freestyle shade-wearing bastard by the bar signing autographs for all Izzy’s family, and a few hockey players, I’d probably hit one up.
But I’m so into the freestyle shade-wearing bastard I couldn’t be more into him without being a part of the ink covering his skin.
I’m not sure how it happens, but before I know it, I’m standing next to him. With our close proximity, I can’t help but smile, despite wanting to rip out that bartender’s tongue for looking at him that way.
“Who was that?” I give my best resting-bitch face to her, and she notices. Oh yeah, she fucking notices.
Back off, hussy.
“I don’t know.” Shade shrugs and then hands me a shot of tequila. I love that he knows what I like. “Some chick. She offered to blow me.” His eyes make a sweep over my dress. Then he smirks and lifts his own drink to his lips. “Fuck, you’re hot. Can I watch you take it off later?”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “Shush. Did she really hit on you? I mean, I’ve literally been standing next to you all night. Wouldn’t she think we were together?”
“Yep. Gave me a cherry in a shot glass too. Said if I wanted, I could have hers too.”
I eye him carefully in disbelief. “What a slut.”
He throws his head back in laughter and then leans into my shoulder, wrapping his arm around me. “You know, this reminds me of the plane ride to Paris. . . . Just admit it, you’re jealous.”
My eyes narrow at him. “I am not, Shade.”
He nods. “Yes, yes you are.”
“Fine. Fuck you.” My shoulders slump in defeat. “I’m jealous.”
He breathes out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “Finally, you admit you like me!”
“You know damn well I like you.”
“No, I don’t. You’re constantly mean to me.”
We’re laughing when suddenly his body tenses and he drops his arm from my shoulders.
“I’ve been thinking, when Willa comes back, do you think you’re going to stay in California or come back to Seattle?”
I glance over at him, almost afraid to talk about this. “Well, my life is here.” At least it used to be. Now I’m not so sure. Truth is, I always saw myself leaving Seattle. Just like Shade never wanted to go back to Glen Helen for the memories it held, Seattle, in some ways, held the same pain for me.
I’m not looking at him when he whispers in my ear, “But I’m there. Would it be so bad if you stayed?”
The significance of what he says rushes through my veins like wildfire spreading. Boom. Heart exploding.
You know when you’re driving on the freeway and you’re making great time, flying through traffic and thinking shit, this is going so smoothly. I’ll finally be on time for something.
And then someone cuts you off and decides to do fifteen under in the fast lane?
That’s my current situation, or what’s about to happen.
Take a look around the reception. Do you see the happy newlyweds dancing together? They’re sickeningly adorable.
Then take a look at Shade and me, tucked away in the shadows near the windows, looking over the beautiful gardens with breathtaking views of Seattle’s waterfront.
Then there’s Tom. You remember him, right? The guy who “liked” me and is currently living in my apartment with a dog in my bed?
He’s approaching us.
The first step he takes toward me, I flinch. He cuts through the mass of people, a few long strides, and I’m yanked to the side. By Tom.
Tom spins around, his face colored with surprise. “You brought him?”
“Yes.” I jerk my arm away from and motion to Shade. “I brought him. Shade, this is Tom Chase. My friend. Tom, meet Shade Sawyer.”
Tom frowns and rolls his eyes. “Scar, I’ve met him before.”
It’s true. Mila introduced them a few times, but I doubt Shade knows. We’ve been over this many times. His memory sucks. He doesn’t remember who he met at dinner last night. Or who he sleeps with for that matter.
And here’s where my life spins out of control. Literally before my eyes.
Shade’s standing next to me and downs his drink, his body and shoulders stiff as they were when the women were all over him.
“Dude, I remember you obsessing over him,” Tom says, motioning to Shade with a lift of his drink. “How crazy that you’re here together as a couple now.”
I want to cry. No really, the tears are damn near surfacing. “We’re not a couple. I work for him.”
Tom winks. “Uh-huh. Sure you do. Work his cock.”
Beside Tom, Shade sends Tom a death glare, his jaw tightening. These two are not going to be friends.
Tom downs his beer, then shakes his head. “You were obsessed.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were.” He nods, nudging my shoulder with his like we’re the best of friends. And we were, but now I want to slap the shit out of him. “It was your life mission to fuck him. You fuckin’ stalked him on Instagram for months. All you talked about was Shade until you finally fucked him that one night.”
Shade’s face is all I see in that moment. He’s looking at me as though he doesn’t even know who I am, because in reality, he doesn’t. I hate the look. Make it go away. Who he thinks he knows, and who I really am are two totally different people in this situation.
Tom keeps talking, and I straight up punch his shoulder. “Shut. Up. Go away.”
Tom acts like nothing’s wrong with what he said, shrugs, and walks away and I’m left to explain what happened and what this means.
Do you see Shade? Do you see the confusion? No?
That’s because it’s not confusion. It’s fucking devastation.
“I uh. . . I don’t even know what to say about him. . . .” And I leave it at that because my mouth is so dry I don’t think any more words can form let alone come out. I look over my shoulder when the crowd near the dance floor claps at Izzy and Zane dirty dancing on the dance floor. They’re kissing and I’m nearing tears. Isn’t that how it usually works for the maid of honor at the wedding. They realize how shitty their life really is?
Maybe it’s just been my experience.
I force a breath and a smile, facing Shade and nod to the terrace. “Come with me?”
I don’t want to talk about this in here because the last thing I want to do is ruin Izzy’s wedding if Shade freaks out.
He nods and follows me outside.