by Lexi Ryan
I told Isaiah thirty minutes. I can talk to Sabrina for a few before I head that way. “Let me get dressed, and then we can go down and get coffee together or something.” I turn to the bathroom.
“Wait.”
I stop and face her. “What?”
“I’m going to lose my nerve, so let me say this, okay?”
Nodding slowly, I fold my arms. “Okay.”
She draws in a ragged breath. “You’re a good guy, Carter. You aren’t a cheater.” I wait, unsure how to respond, and she laughs. “Though I guess you kind of are . . .” Turning, she starts to pace the room. “I’ve thought about that night we had together so many times. I felt something special, and I think you felt it too. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have taken me home with you.”
“Sabrina . . .”
She stops pacing in front of the bed and stares at the rumpled sheets. What does she see there? Are the rumpled sheets proof enough of what’s between Teagan and me, or does she know that Teagan stayed with her sister last night?
When she turns back to me, there are tears in her eyes. “I like you a lot, Carter, and you deserve better than Teagan.”
I almost laugh. “I think you have that backward.”
“Heath deserved better than her too, but the moment he spotted her, it was like I didn’t exist anymore. And look what she did to him.”
I replay her words in my head. “You were with Heath?”
“We were . . . dating. Until he dropped me for her.” She shakes her head. “I told him he deserved better, and he didn’t listen. I’m telling you the same thing. Maybe you made a mistake with me, but that’s because we have a connection. Just like Teagan has a connection with Rich that will always lead her back to him.”
“Sabrina, you don’t really want me.”
“I do.” She steps closer to me and places her palm flat against my bare chest. “I want you to choose me.”
“No.” Christ, I feel bad for this woman. The desperation in her eyes has nothing to do with me and her, and everything to do with her personal demons. “You want to be chosen over Teagan. That’s not the same thing.”
“Do you love her or something?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard as the truth slams into me. I should tell Teagan before I tell Sabrina, but here I am. I won’t deny it. “Not or something. I’m in love with her.” My throat burns. I am. I fucking love a woman who’s pushing me away because I’m a mess.
Dad. It’s my fault he’s dead.
Maybe we’re all a mess.
Sabrina blinks away. “You weren’t in love with her when you took me to bed.”
“That doesn’t change how I feel now.”
Hurt washes over her face before she stomps toward the door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Teagan
I knock on the door first. It’s ridiculous, I guess. I mean, it’s my room too, but after our fight last night—after the things I said—I feel like he deserves some privacy. So I knock, and when he doesn’t respond, I knock again.
I was grateful that Saanvi was nearly drunk upon returning to her suite last night. She was giggly and chatty and completely oblivious to the fact that I was one wrong word away from falling apart. I slept like hell, wondering if I’d ruined everything between me and Carter, wondering if we ever stood a chance to begin with.
“Carter?” No answer.
I use my key and squeeze my eyes shut at what awaits me inside. His suitcase is packed and sitting by the door. He’s ready to leave, and I can’t blame him one bit.
I pull out my phone and open the text stream between us to tell him it’s okay. To tell him I understand if he wants to go, and I appreciate all that he did. But our most recent texts stare back at me from the night he showed up at my house and made me dinner.
Carter: You home?
Me: In my pajamas and curled up with a book. I’m trying to enjoy the calm before the chaos tomorrow.
Carter: Want to come to the door?
I close my eyes, remembering that night. Was that only four days ago? It feels like a lifetime has passed since he sat across from me and made me laugh with his stupid pet names. I tap to start a new message, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to ask him to stay, because I’m not sure I deserve it. But I can’t bring myself to tell him he should go either.
Carter
I could count the number of times I’ve seen Isaiah cry on one hand, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him cry like this. When I push into his bedroom, he’s sitting in silence, curled on his side—as much as a linebacker teen with a thigh-to-foot cast can curl—tears rolling onto his pillow.
I sit on the couch beside the bed and run through a dozen things I can say. None of them are right.
Before I can figure anything out, he says, “It’s my fault he’s dead,” and my heart breaks for him all over again.
“Isaiah, it’s normal to feel like that, but—”
“You aren’t hearing me. It’s my fault.” He rolls to his back and stares at his ceiling. “I’m the reason he went back in there—the reason he broke the rules and got himself killed.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. Why would you think that?”
“Because I was there. He caught me hanging out there a few nights before the fire. It’s where a bunch of us would go to smoke.” When I lift a brow in question, he sighs. “Weed, Carter. But as far as Dad was concerned, we might as well have been smoking crack or some shit. We used to smoke in Rafe’s basement, but his mom said she could smell it, and we’d all heard rumors that people would hang out at the warehouse to drink and smoke and screw.
“The night of the fire, Dad had the neighbor check to make sure I was home like I was supposed to be. Only I wasn’t. I was at the warehouse. About an hour before all hell broke loose, he’d texted me. Get the fuck home.” He releases a long breath and shakes his head. “I ignored the text. I was being a punk and was pissed at him for trying to control me. I wasn’t about to admit to anything or let him tell me what to do.”
I rest my elbows on my knees. That’s why Max was so insistent about there being kids inside. He thought his son was there.
“I was there when the fire started,” Isaiah says, his voice low and distant. “We couldn’t get downstairs. By the time we realized the building was on fire, it was too bad. We crawled out through a second-story window and jumped down onto one of the rusted-out old cars in the back. The fire trucks were already there, but we hid. We didn’t want anyone to know where we’d been because we’d get in trouble, so we ran into the forest. Everyone else scattered—headed home or wherever—but I couldn’t make myself leave. I saw Dad go in. I was so scared, but I told myself this was his job. He wouldn’t do anything stupid. I stood watching through the trees and waited for him to come back out.” He pushes himself up and grimaces as he scoots back to lean against his headboard. When he turns to me, tears stream down his cheeks. “Only he never did.”
I reach for his hand and squeeze. He doesn’t pull away. “Your dad made his own decisions that night. He was trained. He knew the dangers, and it wasn’t the first time he took risks when he was told to pull out.”
“I wanted to blame you, but I couldn’t, and the guilt ate at me. It’s my fault.”
“No more than it’s mine.” I draw in a long, deep breath. “Every day since it happened, I’ve blamed myself.”
He shakes his head. “What were you supposed to do? Drag him out? If you’d gone back in and tried, you’d be dead too.”
“I know. And for more days than I want to admit, I wished for that. Thought it would be easier to live with than this failure. But I’m glad I didn’t, because I couldn’t have saved him from the fire, but I can be here for you.” I squeeze Isaiah’s hand hard, and he surprises me when he squeezes mine in return, and I feel the shift in both of us—from guilt to true grief—like a presence in the room.
Maybe we both blamed ourselves because that was easier than accepting that Max is gone. He�
�s never coming back, no matter how unfair that feels. And maybe now, together, we can finally let him go.
Teagan
He came. Carter came to the wedding. I almost cried with relief when I saw him seated in the pew behind my mother, but I kept it together. Of course he came. He’s Carter Jackson, and I can count on him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that the hour-long ceremony passes in a blur, and before I know it, Saanvi and Liam are kissing and everyone’s cheering as they head back down the aisle. The bridal party follows, and we take our places for the receiving line.
Sabrina nudges me when I stand too close to her. “Back off, would you?” She’s been shitty with me all morning, and I’ve ignored her. I do the same now. I wish we could both let go of the past, but she’ll probably always hate me for what happened with Heath.
The next fifteen minutes are a blur of greetings and handshakes as everyone makes their way through the receiving line. I wait and wait for Carter to come through, but he doesn’t. I spot him across the church vestibule, talking to Liam’s dad. He looks somber, and when I catch his eye, he nods solemnly and gives me a subdued smile before following the rest of the guests out of the church.
I try not to read too much into that, but I can’t help it, and all through the pictures, I analyze that half-smile from a hundred different angles. Is he still mad at me? Does he want to talk? Or is he just biding his time until the weekend is over and he can get away from this mess?
Valarie claps her hands. “Okay, everyone! I need the bridal party to go out front. The limo will take you to the reception while the bride and groom finish pictures.”
I go to my sister and pull her into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
Saanvi squeezes me tightly. “Not as happy as I am for you. Good things are happening between you and Carter. He’s the one for you. I know it.”
My eyes burn with the tears that have been threatening all day. I hurt Carter, and if I’d been honest with myself, I would’ve realized I was pushing him away because I was scared. Because I knew he’d be able to hurt me more than anyone else. In my desperate attempt to save my heart, I broke his.
And he showed up anyway.
He’s playing the good boyfriend, even though I’ve proven to be a shitty friend.
When Saanvi pulls back, she cocks her head to the side and smiles at me. “Don’t get in your own way, okay?”
“I’m afraid it might be too late for that,” I whisper, and to my dismay, a tear slips free.
She squeezes my wrist. “We’ll talk. As soon as all the formal stuff is done, we’ll sneak away in the limo and talk it out.”
“No. Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “Saanvi, it’s your wedding day. I’m fine.”
She sweeps away my hot tears. “You’re my sister, and I want to be there when you need me.”
I kiss her cheek. “You always have been. I’ll see you at the reception.”
Liam and Saanvi follow the photographer for more pictures, and I head outside with the rest of the bridal party. I’m the last to pile into the limo and have to take the only open seat—beside Sabrina. She pulls away from me and sneers.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Nothing. I’m just having a shit day.”
When Rich climbs in after me, I balk. This limo is for the bridal party. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked him to stick around,” Sabrina says, flashing me a look that dares me to defy his right to be here. “For me.”
Rich winks at me from the seat opposite us. The groomsmen dig into the mini fridge and pull out bottles of champagne. Rich grabs one. “Here we go,” he says, popping the cork. The champagne bubbles over the side, and he hands the bottle to me. “Your favorite champagne, if I recall.”
I take it and look around. “Where are the glasses?”
“Come on, Teagan,” Rich says. “What happened to the girl who could chug half a bottle of wine in one go?”
She grew up? But I smile and drink from the bottle before passing it on to Sabrina. She tilts it upright, and the guys chant, “Chug, chug, chug!”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Rich says, grinning at her.
The ride to the reception is blissfully short, but somehow the bridal party has drained four bottles of champagne by the time we pull up to the Jackson Brews Banquet Center. I’m worried how much of that Sabrina’s responsible for.
She’s a grown woman. She makes her own decisions.
The group is considerably louder and less coordinated than before as we file into the reception. While the rest of them make a beeline for the bar, I search for Molly to give her the update on the bride and groom’s arrival. I find her on the dance floor, chatting with the band.
“Hey there!” she says when she sees me. “You look gorgeous. The henna is so detailed!”
I smile. “Thank you. You should see the bride.”
“Oh, I can’t wait.” Molly’s smile is genuine, and something tugs in my chest—an opportunity lost. A different life, down a different path, where Molly my friend would have become Molly my sister-in-law.
“How’s everything going here?” I ask.
“Smoothly. The waitstaff will circulate with hors d’oeuvres in”—she checks her watch—“two minutes. And the bar is open.” She grins when she spots the rest of the bridal party already gathered there. “As your friends have already discovered.”
“Thank you for everything, Molly. Today means so much to Saanvi, and I’m so proud to have you lead the charge in giving her the magical celebration she deserves.”
“You’re welcome.” She frowns and studies me. “But why . . .?”
“What?”
“Why do you seem so sad?”
I swallow, and again my eyes fill with hot tears. When this day is over, I’m going to let myself have the longest cry ever. And then I’m going to beg Carter to forgive me and explain that I’m insecure and jealous, and so scared to be hurt again. I’m going to tell him that I want us to try to be together. For real.
“Is this about Carter?”
“What did my brother do now?” Brayden asks from behind me.
I spin around to face the eldest Jackson brother. He’s in a dress shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Knowing Brayden, he’s probably been working most of the day. “Nothing.” I force a smile, even knowing my friends can see right through it. “Carter’s a prince.”
Brayden snorts. “Now I really don’t believe you.”
“Are you talking about me again?” Carter asks.
I’m so relieved to see him walking toward me that I almost melt into a puddle. “I was telling Brayden that you’re a prince.”
“Of course I am.” He wraps one arm around my waist—for show or because he wants to touch me? “Do you need anything?” he asks softly, studying my face in that way of his that makes me feel like I’m precious.
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
He brushes his knuckles down the side of my face and gives a shaky smile. “You look amazing. Just . . . stunning.”
Even as my heart swells, I try to tamp it down. I can’t let myself want him too badly. We have so much to figure out.
Molly grabs Brayden’s arm and backs away. “You know where to find us if you need anything,” she says before pulling Brayden back to the kitchen with her and leaving us alone.
“Thank you,” I tell Carter. “You’re stunning too.”
He laughs, but I wasn’t making a joke. Carter in a suit is a sight to see. His broad shoulders fill it out perfectly, and there’s something about seeing him like this that makes me want to wrap his tie around my hand and drag him down to kiss me.
“The pictures went okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. They were easy.” I press a hand to my stomach. I haven’t eaten all day, and the champagne I had in the car is starting to go to my head. “Are you okay?”
He looks out the long bank of windows that face th
e lake and nods. “I will be.”
Between me and a chance with Carter is a gaping hole where my courage should be. If I want him, I’m going to have to find it. “We should talk.”
I almost expect him to evade, but he pulls me into his arms and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I’d like that.”
I don’t get to say more, because Valarie appears. “Teagan, could you get the bridal party to take their seats, please? The bride and groom will be arriving soon.”
“Later,” Carter says, scanning my face.
I nod and force myself to take a deep breath. I haven’t lost him. “Later.”
“If I could have your attention, please?” I use both hands to hold the microphone, trying to hide my trembling. We’ve made it through dinner and to the part of the evening I’ve been dreading since Saanvi asked me to be her maid of honor—my speech. As everyone turns their attention to me, I remember why I hated my public speaking class so much.
“I’m Teagan, Saanvi’s big sister. Public speaking has never been my thing, but I couldn’t be more honored to be able to stand by her side while she begins her life with a man who makes her so happy.” I smile, the words coming easily now. “Liam, you’ve married a woman who’s always believed in happily-ever-after and who deserves one of her own more than anyone I know. Please keep sweeping her off her feet. Keep making her smile like she’s smiling today. And Saanvi, don’t be afraid to tell him if you need something. I remember when you were three years old and insisted on tying your shoes yourself. You’d make such a mess of the strings that no one could get them unknotted. It’s okay to ask for help, and as you go through life, if there are times that your marriage is a little tougher than others, it’s okay to tell this guy what you need. He’s promised me that he’ll do everything in his power to give it to you, and I believe him.”
Sabrina stands up and reaches for the mic. I clear my throat and discreetly turn away to finish my speech. “I consider myself lucky to be able to say—”