Still more knocking.
I needed to move. Needed to push this all aside and focus on what mattered. On Will. On our love. On making it the most picture-perfect wedding anyone in the world had ever seen.
“Harrison? Are you all ri—”
In the mirror’s reflection, I saw Adrian open the door and poke his head into the bathroom.
I guessed he’d been knocking. I tried to answer, tried to turn around, but I couldn’t let go of the edge of the marble countertop.
Adrian came the rest of the way in and closed the door quietly behind him. “Jitters?”
Jitters. It was like asking me if I had jitters the first time I ran on the football field after signing my contract with the Titans. Whatever laughter threatened to spill out curdled in my gut and threatened to make me sick. I took in a deep breath and steadied myself, or at least tried to. I couldn’t find words, was afraid I’d actually be sick if I opened my mouth. I managed a nod.
Adrian gave a nervous smile. “I hear that’s normal.” His eyes narrowed as he studied my reflection, still I couldn’t move. “Want me to get you something? Water? Champagne?”
I shook my head, probably a little too violently. God, the thought of alcohol right then. Talk about being sick. Although… maybe it would help
“I saw Robert Kelly with a flask earlier. I can get that for you.” Adrian moved a little closer. “I don’t know what it is, but knowing Robert, it’s something that’ll make you feel good.”
I nearly laughed, and it didn’t make me want to hurl. I could totally picture Robert Kelly sneaking a drink into the wedding. I could also see him having a bit too much of the drink and putting on quite the show for the live feed. The thought allowed me to release the counter and turn to face Adrian. “Of course Robert Kelly brought a flask to the wedding.” Nope, I was wrong. I grasped the counter behind me again to keep standing.
“A rainbow one, no less.”
I snorted. Hey, I was able to a laugh. That had to be a good sign. “As expected. It is Lavender Shores, gay mecca and all.”
He shrugged, his warm brown gaze unable to hide his concern as he studied me. “You feeling okay?”
“I look that bad, huh?” I attempted a self-deprecating grin. “I thought maybe my reflection was lying to me.”
Adrian winced. “I’ll go find you another shirt. No harm done. You’ll look like America’s gay sweetheart again in no time.” He reached for the door handle.
I wasn’t sure what was wrong with my shirt. I was more concerned about my face, and my stomach. But I didn’t want him to leave me in the bathroom alone. “You really have heard that it’s normal?”
He turned back to me. “What?”
“Having jitters before the wedding. That’s normal, right?”
Adrian moved closer once more. “Yeah. Anybody in their right mind would feel that way before they walked down the aisle. Especially when doing so in front of the whole damn world.”
There went my stomach again, and my heart. Good Lord, what the hell was wrong with me?
Adrian closed the distance, his large strong hands reaching up and gripping my shoulders. I startled at his unexpected touch. Had we touched before? His gaze met mine. “This is normal. Anyone would be nervous. Just breathe.”
I tried to breathe. Tried to decide if I was feeling sick, terrified, or… some other thing with Adrian’s hands on me.
He gave me a surprisingly strong shake. “You’re gonna be fine. You got this. Keep your eye on the ball.”
I nearly laughed at that as well. How many times had I heard that particular phrase?
Adrian gave a tiny shake of his head like he was starting over. “You’re marrying the man you love. That’s the only thing that matters. You and Will. Trust me, I know. I’m seeing soul mate after fucking soul mate… er… sorry… I’m seeing soul mate after soul mate get married lately. I can tell you, from what I see, it’s worth every bit of work and fear there is to get to that other side.”
I was marrying my soul mate. I was getting married in a few minutes, I was getting married. To Will. To my soul mate. In front of the entire world.
I let go of the counter.
I was marrying Will.
I needed to pick one of the flowers. The purple one, Mom’s favorite color. The bearded one, her favorite type of iris.
I took a breath.
Neither was right. I couldn’t pick either. And even if one of them was right, even if I had the perfect purple bearded iris plucked from the strain that she’d grown in our yard, it still wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be gold. It wouldn’t be approved.
“Just let everything else fade away. Don’t worry about the cameras, don’t worry about the crowd, don’t worry about anything. Just keep your eyes on Will the whole time. He’s the only thing that matters.” Adrian’s voice brought me back from flowers, back from my mother, back from gold. Those brown eyes still held mine. So sincere, so gentle. “You get through this, and then the two of you have the rest of your lives together.”
I quit listening to what he was saying and focused on his face. That handsome face. That glowing skin. That was the right color of gold.
He was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. I’d started to notice countless times over the months since Jasper brought him into our lives, but I’d always cut the thoughts before they could finish forming. But they came now. He was beautiful. And his hands were strong, holding me up. His fingers digging into my muscles, grounding me to the spot.
And he could see that I needed something. He could see that I wasn’t okay. He knew.
As if in a dream, my fingers uncurled from the counter’s edge, lifted, and cupped either side of Adrian’s face.
I kissed him.
He stiffened and sucked in a breath through the kiss.
Somewhere in my brain, a voice shouted to let him go. To quit kissing him. But I couldn’t. The smell of him blended with the taste of his lips. Spice, soft musk, earth, sun.
Adrian trembled, then kissed me back. His body sank against mine as his arms wrapped around my back and pulled me to him.
The world spun, and we kept kissing.
Then everything froze, stilled, sighed in relief.
He jerked back as if stuck with a needle. “Shit.” Adrian released me and stumbled backward a couple of steps. “Shit, shit, shit.” He dragged his hand across his mouth, lifted his eyes to mine, and looked away as if he’d been stung. “Shit. My fault. Shit.” He pointed to the door, mouthed silently and then grasped the handle. “Sorry. Totally my fault. Sorry. Sorry. Shit.” Then he was gone, shutting the door with a bang behind him.
I stared after him, trying to figure out if that had really happened. It couldn’t have. No possible way. It absolutely could not have happened.
I was getting married.
To Will.
I was marrying Will.
I waited for the door handle to twist again, it didn’t. Finally, I turned back around and looked in the mirror once more.
I met my own brown eyes. “That didn’t happen.” My whisper caused me to flinch as if someone else had spoken in my ear. My reflection lifted his hand to his lips, though I felt the pressure on mine.
The taste of Adrian was still there. The warm sense of earth still lingered in my nose.
It had happened.
I looked back down at the boutonnieres.
“Harrison?” Angela’s voice preceded her walking into the bathroom without a knock. “We’re ready. We have just enough time for….” She faltered. “Are you okay?”
The flowers were wrong. I couldn’t pick either one of them. They weren’t Mom.
And Will wouldn’t want them.
I nodded, I think.
Angela waited for a second, then gripped my shoulder, replacing the sensation of Adrian’s hand that still remained. “Okay, good. I’ll have the makeup crew come back really quick. It’ll put us a few minutes behind, but it’s needed.”
It didn’t feel like my wedding. It
didn’t feel like a wedding at all. As soon I stepped in front of the cameras I knew what to do. I slipped into autopilot and turned off my brain. Exactly what I’d done since Will and I had started the series.
Everything became a blur. I was aware of standing in front of the throngs of people watching as Will and I took our place in front of the officiant. I felt Jasper’s presence at my back, was even aware of Adrian and Connor. I wasn’t sure why Connor was there instead of Johnny, but not like it mattered. Neither was right, they were both the wrong flower, the wrong hue, I wasn’t sure which. But they looked the part.
For a moment, I came back to myself as Micah played a stunning rendition of “At Last” on his violin. It was sweeping, romantic, timeless. It was perfect. Or at least it should have been. As the final strains rang out, I glanced at Will. His attention had been captured by Micah, who played somewhere over my shoulder, and then his gaze met mine. His brows knitted, and he blinked.
The officiant said something. We’d rehearsed this the day before. After Micah played, it was the vows. Will and I had crafted a rough outline and then sent them to the network. We’d been practicing them for weeks. I knew them as well as I knew my own name. At least I had when we’d spoken them at the rehearsal.
Will mouthed, “You okay?”
Everyone kept asking me that. But it shocked me from Will—he knew the cameras were on us, knew there was a chance they would pick up his words, and still he took the chance.
It touched me, warmed my heart.
I nodded slightly, letting him know I was okay, while trying to keep the movement invisible to those watching.
He smiled slightly and risked mouthing again. “Good. I love you.”
I loved him too. He was my everything. He was absolutely my everything.
Everything.
They’d been the wrong irises.
The wrong irises.
Forgetting our lines, our roles, forgetting that we were in front of hundreds and hundreds of people, that we were in front of the entire world, I leaned into him, pressed my lips to his, and then pulled back.
My heart broke.
I pulled him to me, though he was stiff in shock and surprise. “I love you too. I’m sorry. But I can’t do this.” I pressed my lips to his ear. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
I released him but couldn’t bring myself to look in his eyes, and I turned.
Then I remembered. We were in front of hundreds and hundreds of people. We truly were in front of the entire world.
I ran.
Six
Adrian
Micah had taken a red-eye flight to New York after the wedding—or after the wedding that didn’t happen. He was recording for some album over the next several days. Moses had worked the morning shift at the Green Violin, and I’d volunteered to close.
It was the last thing I wanted to do. I’d much rather stay out in the fields, get lost in the earth. Hell, I’d sooner stick an old-fashioned yoke around my neck and plow the new property by hand. But I wanted things to seem normal. Closing the store for no reason during business hours wouldn’t seem normal.
I knew I was being insane. Nobody in Lavender Shores was looking at me or the Green Violin, trying to determine if I was acting normal or not. Well, spoiler alert for them, I wasn’t. And I knew it. But I couldn’t seem to get control of myself.
With every customer that came in, I expected pointing, accusations, and was surprised when no one picked up an eggplant, squash, or overly large onion and beat me over the head with it in retribution.
I’d broken up a marriage. A wedding, more specifically, I supposed, but it was the same thing. I’d broken up America’s gay sweetheart couple.
Maybe that wasn’t right. I had to remind myself that I didn’t know if I’d broken them up. It seemed I had to keep reminding myself of that every fifteen minutes. It was why I hadn’t fallen asleep the night before, not for one goddamn minute. I’d broken off the marriage. Kissed a man minutes before his wedding.
Oh no, that was too simple, too sugarcoated.
I kissed a nearly married national heartthrob minutes before he married the golden child of another founding family of Lavender Shores. Prompting said golden boy to be humiliated in front of the entire world as he was left standing at the altar.
Though, in all fairness, judging from the endless clips filling my Facebook feed, the real attention had been on Harrison running away. There’d been actual aerial footage. Him running down the aisle, slipping on something and falling. It looked like he fell hard. But he popped right back up and started running again, though his limp made him look more like a fast zombie than a handsome groom.
I’d done that.
I hadn’t told Micah, Amelia, or Andre—hadn’t told anyone. I kept expecting someone to know. Everyone to know.
I startled when Jasper walked by the front windows. Shit.
As he came in, I hurried over, turned the deadbolt, and put up the Closed sign. The afternoon sun poured through the windows and lit up our produce store that looked like a mix between Whole Foods and Crate & Barrel. Maybe I’d get hit in the head with a heavy gourd yet.
For his part, Jasper seemed pale, intense. And beyond stressed.
I should go first. It was only right. I needed to go first. “I’m so sorry.” I started to reach for Jasper’s hand and then remembered I no longer had the right. “I’m so, so sorry, I wish I could take it back. I didn’t mean to ruin your brother’s life.”
His blondish-red brows knitted. “You don’t need to be sorry. Harrison told me what happened. I don’t know if he’s beating himself up more for running away from Will or for kissing the man he keeps suggesting I date.” Jasper let out a breath of a laugh and shook his head. “He’s acting like the universe is ending. As if he had this huge affair, broke up his marriage, and ruined his relationship with the world.”
Strange, that’s what I thought I had done. Except for not ruining the relationship with my brother, but still.
I replayed Jasper’s words.
Harrison had said that he’d kissed me?
I’d replayed the kiss on an endless loop all night long. For a good portion of it, I had convinced myself that Harrison really had kissed me. Then on the other portion, I was certain I’d been the instigator.
Semantics. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if Harrison had kissed me, or I had kissed him.
I’d wanted it. Hadn’t even known it, but I had. Some part of me had longed for Harrison to kiss me.
And worse. Somewhere, not smothered by the guilt, I longed for it again.
I was probably just as much a part of the guilt as anything else.
“Good grief, Adrian.” Jasper took my hand, bringing me back from replaying the kiss yet again. “You look as miserable as he does. You didn’t do this. It’s not your fault. Harrison was very clear that he was in a panic or something and he kissed you.”
I squeezed his hand in response, and though I knew I shouldn’t ask, I couldn’t keep from it. “How is he?”
Jasper released his hold on my hand and appeared to debate answering. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep Harrison’s confidence or if I’d just revealed how I actually felt about his brother. “Not good.” He licked his lips and looked away, glancing around the store as if he might find something that could help. “He’s hurting. In every way. Beating himself up for probably ruining his relationship with Will. For giving the country something to mock. On top of it all, his knee is killing him. I’m worried he’s damaged it by running or in the fall, somehow.”
“Sorry about that, too. Maybe it’ll work out between him and Will?” The words left a sour taste on my tongue, but they were the right thing to say, so I kept going. “Maybe with the show over, things can go back to normal. I think it was wearing Harrison down.”
“It definitely was. I think it was wearing all of us down.” Jasper shrugged. “Although, I doubt things will ever go back to normal between him and Will, but I could be wrong.” He sh
ook his head. “Harrison stayed with me last night, of course. And I should get back. I’m not worried he’ll do something dangerous or anything like that. I just don’t like the idea of him alone.” Jasper hesitated, holding my gaze once more. “Let me know if you need anything?”
“Thanks. You too.”
He nodded without a word, turned, unlocked the door, and headed back toward his bookshop.
I hurried over and relocked the door. Before closing hours or not, I did not want to see any customers. I leaned against it, and then slid down to the hardwood floor.
Maybe Harrison was right in what he told Jasper. Maybe he had kissed me. I was pretty sure he had.
But I wanted him to do it again.
Guilt stormed in like gangbusters. Even worse, so did desire.
It was a little after sunset when I knocked on Andre’s door. He opened it and smiled. His smile used to light up a room. He was always light and happy. The two of us always the class clowns growing up. But since Meghan, the smile was someone else’s. A stranger’s. It altered as he met my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
He was my twin, my brother, my best friend. He was also my priest. It was time to confess.
I leaned, trying to peer around him. “Is Katniss close by?”
“No, she’s over at Amelia and Bethany’s. They’re going to have a Pixar marathon and a cousin slumber party.” He gestured with his thumb back into the house. “I was about to crack open a twelve-pack…. You look like you could use a drink.” He glared at me. “And I was honest with you about it, so don’t call Donovan and set up some stupid therapy intervention. I want to get drunk—stupid, blackout drunk—and forget it all. Just for tonight.”
“No problem.”
He flinched, clearly surprised at not getting an argument.
Andre had beaten me to confession time, so I launched in. “I think I was partially responsible for breaking up Will and Harrison’s wedding yesterday.”
Andre’s eyes widened. “Yeah, saw that on TV. Almost made me wish I hadn’t stayed home. How are you responsible for that shitshow?”
The Glasshouse (Lavender Shores Book 6) Page 6