“Oh shit. Who?”
“Mikah! Are you kidding me?” I ask in a hushed tone.
Turning to the right, she pushes the ladies’ room door open and I follow her inside. “What happened?” I demand after I check to make sure no one else is in here.
“We hooked up,” she says simply, washing her hands.
“Hooked up? What does that mean?”
She stares at me like I have ten heads. “It means we had sex, Ev.”
“What?! Where? And why?”
She folds her arms over her chest. “Relax. It was in a closet. No one saw us.”
“I can’t believe this. Why would you do that?”
“Every time I’ve seen the band, I’ve always been so busy drooling over the bass player I never really noticed how hot Mikah is.”
“Please tell me you didn’t have sex with my husband’s brother.”
“Why are you freaking out? We’re adults. It was consensual.”
“It was in a hallway closet. With my one hundred guests just down the hall! Including his mother and his grandmother. What’s wrong with you?”
“Um, hello? Remember when you and Storm were going at it in a storage room in a club with hundreds of people milling around? I distinctly remember guarding the door to make sure Michael didn’t show up.”
I rub my throbbing temple. “Okay. Point made. But Mikah? He’s a jerk, Amy. He’s not like Storm, Asher, and Talon. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him have an actual conversation. What happened to new hair, new Amy, new guy?”
She reaches into the neckline of her dress and fixes her bra, adjusting her boobs. “I don’t care if he’s an asshole. He’s hot and he’s fucking wild. We’re going to meet up later, he has a room here at the hotel for the night.”
I let out an exasperated sigh, not surprised that Mikah has a room here. He obviously planned to hook up with someone. Anyone.
“Please don’t, Amy. Nothing good will come of this.”
“I’m not like you, Evelyn. I need to get the D on the regular or I go stir crazy.”
“The D? What does that even mean? What language are you speaking?”
“The dick. Cock. Meat puppet. Call it what you want. I need it. And Mikah’s definitely got it. If Storm is anything like him, damn…now I know why you couldn’t resist.”
My jaw clenches. “Please don’t compare Storm to him. Storm has a heart of gold. I’m not sure what Mikah’s deal is, but he’s rude and obnoxious.”
“I like him. I’m going to see him again. Tonight and maybe after, we’ll see how it goes.”
“He doesn’t date, Amy. He just parties.”
“I’m done dating. My last sixteen relationships have crashed and burned. Now I just want to have some fun. No strings. No heartache. Just great sex and the chance to be with a famous rock star, which not many of us get to do. Stop acting like my mother.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Again.”
She turns back to the mirror and pulls lipstick out of her clutch bag. “I can’t get hurt if I don’t care, Ev. That’s why he’s perfect. I’ll never care about someone like him.”
My gut sinks, and I take a step back from her as she swipes the red tube over her lips. I don’t like this new attitude of hers at all. She thinks she’s protecting herself, but I know better. Despite her carefree, sassy attitude, Amy’s been looking for love for a long time.
She turns away from her reflection in the mirror to face me. “Evelyn, you just married the love of your life. Go and enjoy your wedding and don’t worry about me.” Her voice softens. “You finally found your happiness, and hopefully someday I will too. Until then, I just want to have fun, and I want you to focus on you.”
“All right. Just be careful. Mikah is a whole different kind of animal than what you’re used to.”
We don’t say anything else as we walk back to the party together, and she makes a beeline for the bar as soon as we get there. Storm and I lock eyes from across the room, and my heart does that pitter-patter thing—only this time in overdrive—as reality sinks in. He’s my husband now. The man I’ll spend the rest of my days and nights with and will grow old with. It’s an overwhelmingly knee-weakening, breath-stealing feeling.
Storm gives Tor a friendly slap on the back and rushes over to me.
“Where’d you disappear to?”
“I went to look for Amy.”
“She’s at the bar.”
“Now she is, but she was MIA for a while.”
“Okay…so where was she?”
“Screwing your brother in a coat closet, that’s where.”
His eyes go wide and he rocks on his heels. “Which one?”
“Which one? You only have one single brother.”
He shrugs. “Hey, I’m just making sure.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
“Weddings make people feel all love crazy.”
I straighten his tie, which is crooked from our rush in getting dressed. “Love? This has nothing to do with love. This is Mikah.”
He nods his head and grins. “Well, yeah. True. I got all the awesome love genes. Mikah got scraps.”
“You have to talk to him.”
“I don’t want him screwing my best friend. He’ll hurt her.”
“She might like it.”
“I mean her heart, Storm.”
“What do you want me to do, Evie? I can’t put his dick on a leash. He does what he wants. He gives zero fucks about anything.” He reaches out and caresses my cheek. “Stop worrying about everyone else, baby. I know what you’re doing and you better stop.”
I turn my face to kiss his palm. “What am I doing?”
“You have nothing to worry about in your own life right now, so you’re worrying about everyone else.”
“I am not doing th—”
He pulls me in for a kiss and smiles down at me. “Evie. Be happy. You don’t have to be worrying all the time. It’s okay to just relax, be happy, be loved.”
Evie falls asleep snuggled up into my side in the back of the limo on the way to Maine, where we’ll be spending our week-long honeymoon.
Sure, we could have flown to Paris or Hawaii or any number of exotic destinations, but that’s not us. Fuck all those hours of plane trips, jet lag, and food we can’t pronounce. Everything I need for a honeymoon is right next to me.
Pulling the fleece blanket up around us, it reminds me of the first time we snuggled under Niko’s blanket in the back of my truck. The moment she lay against me—her curvy body fitting so perfectly against mine, our hands linked together—I was hooked.
She was oblivious to the fact that she had me, and in total denial that I had her too. Her cluelessness and resistance only made me love her and want her even more.
It’s two a.m. when the limo pulls into the driveway of the inn, and I gently nudge her awake.
“Evie, we’re here,” I say softly. Her eyes open and she smiles sleepily at me, exhausted from the wedding. Being in a relationship with someone who has social anxiety has been a real eye opener to how hard it is for her to be around people. Me? I’m used to being surrounded by people wanting attention because I grew up in a celebrity environment. It can be annoying at times, but it doesn’t freak me out. Crowds of people make Evie nervous, and her anxiety goes warp speed to the point of mentally exhausting her. I’ve accepted that this is a part of who she is, but that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to figure out fun and sometimes annoying ways to help ease her anxiety. Being in a relationship with someone like me and dealing with my career are huge-ass triggers for her.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep on our wedding night,” she says, folding the blanket. “I suck as a wife already.”
“Our wedding night hasn’t even started yet, baby.”
We climb out of the limo, and the driver unloads our suitcases from the trunk. Evie and I each grab two and carry them up the front stairs to the wraparound porch of the Victorian inn. Katherine, the owner, opens the door when she hears us and steps out to hug us hello.
“Congratulations on your big day!”
“Thanks for waiting up for us to get here,” I say. “Katherine, this is Evelyn. Ev, this is Katherine, Asher’s sister-in-law. We’ve known each other since high school.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Evie says. “I’ve heard so many good things about your inn and your cooking.”
We follow her into the foyer. “I want you two to have an amazing time. You’re our only guests for the entire week, so we’re going to spoil you both.”
I grin at her. “You’ll probably hear us a lot more than you’ll see us.”
“Storm…” Evie blushes beside me.
Katherine laughs. “Trust me, I’m used to newlyweds. Just come out for air and food once in a while so I feel like I’m doing my job.” She picks up two of the suitcases. “Let’s go, I’ll take you to your suite.”