“Yes,” she answers, jolting my attention back to her weirdness.
Shit! What was I even talking to her about? Thankfully I’m rescued.
My mom breezes in wearing a green ball gown, with my dad following in a black tuxedo.
“Fucking Brance.” I shake my head.
“Pardon?” She bats her eyes at me.
Chuckling, I say, “Nothing. My girlfriend’s best friend is… unique, that’s all.” She looks confused.
“It was his idea to have us all dress up.” She nods—that’s all she gives me.
Suddenly I cringe almost like someone has dragged their fingernails across a blackboard. Unfortunately, it’s Claire’s high-pitched, annoying laugh piercing the large room, making me want to duck and run.
Of course I can’t. “Excuse me, I have some ass kissing to do.” She opens her mouth; however, I walk away. I know its rude, but I did my duty and Jax can step up again.
“Reed!” My mother’s face is flushed. Clearly this isn’t her first glass of champagne. “Come here.” She waves me over, animated.
Looking at the tall couple standing in front of me, I extend my hand to what must be Lexi’s father. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Reed.”
“Oh, such lovely boys.” The tall, plastic blond woman gushes.
“Yes, Dimitri and Anna, this is our other son Reed.” My mom beams at me.
“I just met your daughter.” It’s all I can think of saying. Looking over their shoulders, I notice Olive Oyl is whispering something to Maria. I almost rub my eyes in disbelief. She looks like a real person. Her makeup is soft and her dress is… awesome.
Breaking away from my parents and Dimitri and Anna, I reach for her elbow. “Claire, you look beautiful.”
She looks so happy her eyes mist up. I almost feel guilty about all the things I say about her. Almost.
“Reed.” Her bony hands grab my arms. She must see I’m truly being sincere because she throws herself into my arms.
There goes feeling sorry for her. Stiffly I pat her back.
“I can’t cry. Brance will never forgive me. And it would mess up Tilly’s taping of my eye.” She blinks, and her tears instantly evaporate. I can’t help but chuckle at her dramatics.
I want to whisper that she probably doesn’t want everyone to know that she has a fucked-up eye because of Botox. Instead, I grab her hand and kiss it. A bit over the top, but the room seems to love it besides Jax, who snorts loudly.
“I’m being honest—you are a vision tonight, Claire.”
“Reed, you charmer.” I know she loves that I’m giving her my attention since I never do.
“Mother,” I say turning toward my mom, “looking lovely as always.” I kiss her cheek. She smells like peppermint. Must have been drinking her favorite coffee drink—the main ingredient is peppermint schnapps.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look so handsome tonight. You’re not a little boy anymore.” She strokes my cheek with her hand.
“Brad?” Her voice is loud. “What are we going to do? Our babies are growing up so fast.” Clutching his jacket, she looks a little unsteady.
“Dad, how much has she had?” I ask, arching my brow.
He laughs. “Don’t worry about your mother, Reed. I’ve got her.” He winks at me.
Frowning at him, I turn away. The last thing I need is a visual of my parents.
“Holy shit.” Jax exhales as he stares at the double doors that have been painted a silvery blue. Following his eyes, Brance stands to the side, allowing me the most stunning view I will ever need.
Tess.
My heart is thudding so hard, I don’t even hear the classical music playing anymore. I’m so fucked! So ruined. I’m unable to move, even speak. Vaguely, I hear my brother say something. Holding up my hand to shut him up, my eyes sweep her form, seeking her eyes.
Like a magnet, she moves toward me. God, that fucking walk of hers gets me every time. My hand goes to my chest. It hurts to look at her.
She wears a red chiffon dress—well, I think it’s chiffon; I have no fucking clue. All I know is that it’s tight around her breasts, making them almost spill out and the waist is covered with what looks like small pearls. Layer after layer, the rest of the dress makes her look like a princess.
Tess’s body always drives me crazy, but in this dress…
Brance is whispering like a proud father, something about Dior. All I see is the most exquisite girl in the world.
Her dark brown hair is straight and shiny, parted in the middle. Her eyes are smoky, and her puffy lips are red, matching her dress.
She stops when she gets close to me and twirls. Time slows, and everyone fades into the freshly painted white walls. It’s only us. As she twirls, the dress expands, like a butterfly, and I inhale again. Her face looks so happy. Like a flawless angel, she throws her head back and laughs. My eyes latch on to her long neck. And the pulse—I swear I can hear it from here.