Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
"Fuck no. I told her to hit it and quit it." He chuckles. "But Daphne doesn't like being told what to do." He shrugs so it's no surprise she didn't take my advice. "She's got a lot coming up. With school. A few years she has to focus on herself. I don't know what you two are doing with this whole marriage thing. If you're going to get it annulled when you get home or go with it. Just… promise me you'll take care of her, either way, okay?" He pats my shoulder the way Zack did. "She hates talking about her feelings. She hates asking for help. She needs someone like you. Someone tough and annoying. So whatever this is, I'm happy for you two. Just don't fucking break her heart."
Right on cue, the door swings open. Laurel and Cassie step inside, blocking the view with their bodies.
Laurel moves just enough I see a flash of pink. "Now, presenting, Mrs. Jackson Steele. Just kidding. As if Daphne would ever refer to herself that way. Or take a man's name. But you get what I mean." She steps aside.
Cassie does the same.
Daphne steps into the room in a bright pink dress, her hair pinned at the nape of her neck, her makeup as dramatic as her outfit.
"Of course," I whisper to Damon. "Anything she needs."
He smiles his approval, but I barely notice it. My entire world tunes to Daphne.
She's so fucking beautiful. It defies reasoning.
I meet her in the middle of the room right as a familiar song fills the room. Marvin Gaye. Let's Get it On.
Laurel chuckles. Zack too.
Cassie rolls her eyes.
Damon shoots my brother a look. "Can we be more creative than this?"
"Does the couple have a request for their first dance song," Zack calls. "No commentary from the musical duo allowed."
Cassie mimes zipping her lips.
Damon pulls her into a hug.
"A waltz," Daphne says. "That's one of the styles you know, right?"
I name the first pop-song waltz I can think of, and I guide her into a dance position.
And we move around the room in time with the music. It's messy and silly—we're both out of practice—and perfect for that.
And even though I know this isn't a real marriage, I feel it when I look into her eyes.
And I see it in her smile.
This feels like falling in love.
The grooms join on the next song. We give them space to share the ceremony, then the entire crew steps onto the dance floor and celebrates with us.
After a few songs, Cassie commandeers the stereo and plays a nonstop mix of Daphne's favorite party songs.
What makes them party songs? I don't know. And I don't even consider asking. That's the quickest route to thirty minutes of Cassie and Damon discussing the merits of various styles of music and lyrics.
Whatever the label, the playlist feels right.
Whatever the music, I hold Daphne close, sway with the rhythm. I'm not sure how long we dance. Time slows and speeds at once.
The songs pass in a blink, and they go on forever.
I want that with her. The bliss of feeling every moment. The free fall of pure flow.
Eventually, we break, fix drinks, mingle, eat delivery cheese pizza. We let our friends and family toast to our new beginnings. We bleed into the party.
It's not that I lose myself, exactly. I know where I stop and she begins. Where I stop and the rest of the world begins. But I don't feel the walls I usually do. I don't feel the need to step back, push people away, deny the love others want to offer.
Maybe it's marriage.
Maybe it's all the cheap gin.
I don't know.
I just know I need her.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jackson
Daphne sighs with relief as she steps into our hotel room. Even though it's early by most people's standards, she's exhausted. "What time is it?"
I hold up my left hand. Not that she can read my watch from there. It's ten. We stayed at the party for a while and stumbled home, tired and full.
For the first time in a long time, I feel the way people do in pop songs. I'm a part of her family, and she's a part of mine. Not the way we were last week. Not as long-time friends.
As something else.
Something deeper.
She could be my family.
I could have a family. One all mine.
It's not what she wants, I know, but the desire overwhelms me anyway.
Daphne smiles as she plops on the pleather couch. "Always showing off your wealth." She shakes her head in an over-the-top tsk-tsk gesture. "Haven't you heard of stealth wealth?"
"I'm a corporate lawyer," I say.
She nods exactly and checks the time on her phone. "It's only ten? It feels like three a.m." She tosses her phone on the couch cushion. She's full too. She's wearing the hazy bliss all over her face.