I pop off the bar to go find Indy, but then I add one more thing. “You know that jersey you’ve got with my last name on it? When you see it hanging there in your closet, let it serve as a reminder to you, that soon enough, it’ll be her last name too.”
I clink my glass with his because sometimes I’m an asshole, and then I go find my girl.
She’s off by herself because her friends have no reason to spend time with her if I’m not around to distract her from, so I sneak up behind her while she’s wearing that forced smile and speaking to guests.
As soon as my palm slides around her waist, her hand is on mine, fingers linking together.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the older gentleman she’s speaking to cuts in. “Ryan Shay. I’m a huge fan of yours. I cannot wait until you’re back on the court. The team needs you.”
I wear my professional smile once again. “The guys are doing great without me.”
“Well, that’s because you’re on the sidelines, still running every game.” He chuckles a hearty laugh. “Don’t let us down, son. We need to make it to the playoffs. It’s been too damn long and I’m getting too damn old.”
“Yes, sir. I’m going to do my best.”
“Excuse us,” Indy cuts in. “I’m going to steal my boyfriend for a bit.”
Boyfriend.
She pulls me away and straight towards the exit.
“Boyfriend, huh?”
“Oh, you don’t like that? Would you prefer something else? My honey? My boo? Or how about my lover? Everyone”—she turns around and pretends to announce to the crowd behind us—“I’m going to go get railed by my lover now!”
I shift her shoulders, ushering her towards the exit. “Okay, you’re not allowed to give nicknames.”
“So only you’re allowed to hand out nicknames?”
“Well, yeah, mine are good.”
Blue.
Ind.
Baby when we’re in bed.
Mrs. Shay is another I’d like to add to the list in the future.
“What do you want me to call you then?” she asks, halting us in our tracks.
Cupping her cheeks, I kiss her for everyone who wants to see. “You can call me yours.”
She smiles into me. “Can you take me home now?”
“You don’t want to stay here?”
She has a room upstairs for the night and I have a bag in the car in case things went my way today.
“I want to go back to the city where it’s just you and me in our home.”
Our home.
“I like the way that sounds.”
“Are you leaving?” Maggie cuts in before we’ve made it to the door.
The night is over, the majority of the guests have gone, and I haven’t seen most of the other bridesmaids in well over an hour so I can only assume, they’ve left too.
“Mags, do you really want me here?”
“Of course, I do.”
“I mean me. Do you want me here? Not as Alex’s girlfriend and not as a part of the group.”
Maggie stays silent for longer than I like.
“Look, I love you. We’ve been friends our entire lives, but I don’t fit in anymore, and I’m okay with that. If you want to be my friend, truly be my friend without any hidden agendas, I’d love that, but if you don’t see us spending time together because your husband is friends with my ex, I’ll be okay with that too.” She runs a hand down Maggie’s arm. “You look so beautiful today and I’m so happy for you.”
She really is. I can see it in her face. There’s no hidden jealousy or sadness. Indy seems entirely content.
Indy leans in to hug her. “We can talk about it another time if you’d like, but I’m happy, Maggie, and I’d love if you were happy for me too. Go have fun, okay?”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the exit.
“Indy,” Maggie calls out. “I am happy for you.”
Indy offers her a small smile before we are finally out of that fucking wedding.
33
INDY
Indy
Daily update—I’m in love with your brother.
Stevie
Best daily update I’ve ever received.
As soon as we are back in my hotel room to gather my things so we can go home, Ryan’s arms are around my waist, his lips ghosting the back of my neck.
For a man who I assumed was practically terrified of women, he has no issue touching me every chance he gets.
“Let’s get you packed up so I can get you home and in my bed.”
He grabs my things from the bathroom as I stuff my duffel bag with the clothes I wore yesterday.
“Ryan?” I call out.
“Yeah?”
“When did you start learning sign?”
He peeks out of the bathroom, half the door frame covering his tall body. “Your mom texted me to check in on you a couple of days after I met your parents. I asked for her advice on the best way to start learning since she was an adult when she learned too. We’ve been video chatting once a week ever since, and they’ve both been teaching me.”
Tears prick the back of my eyes before pooling at the base of my lashes because this man turns me into an emotional wreck in the best way possible.
“Your mom also helped me enroll in an online class which I’m passing with flying colors, thank you very much.” Ryan’s lips tug into a beautifully soft smile as he watches me from across the room. “Don’t cry, Blue.”
“I can’t help it.” I suck in a sharp intake of air. “I adore you.”
He chuckles, leisurely making his way to me, thumbing underneath my eyes.
“That’s why you sounded so casual with my mom when you walked in on us talking the other day,” I surmise.
“She’s funny. I like her a lot.”
“But not as funny as me, right?”
He laughs again. “Of course not.”
The pads of his fingertips graze against my cheeks before running down the column of my neck.
“Why?”
“Why what, baby?”
“Why are you learning sign?”
I’m fairly certain I know the reason, but I want to hear him say it.
“Because they’re your family and you’re mine, and the fact you even have to ask is mind-blowing to me. Learning to communicate with your family is the bare minimum, Ind.”
I guess it is, but I didn’t know the bar was on the floor until Ryan Shay walked into my life and quietly raised it to the fucking moon.
“And because I love you and when I tell your dad that, I’ll be the one to say it.”
The pads of his fingers skate along my collarbone, dusting the skin at the top of my breasts. Ryan’s eyes roam every inch of me, his pupils dilating and going dark. His hands are so commanding and controlling in his career, but he touches me with a soft delicacy as if he’s savoring every inch of my skin.
His middle finger traces my sternum, dipping into the “V” of my strapless sweetheart neckline.
“Two hours is a long drive.”
His deep voice alone has heat pooling between my legs.
“Too long,” I agree, stepping into him, my palm flattening over the zipper of his pants where an impressive bulge is waiting. “This would be awfully uncomfortable to drive with.”