Hannah walks up, and Levi snakes her into his arms. “There’s my beautiful bride.” He dips and kisses her nose.
“And there’s my drunk groom.”
“You say drunk, I say happy.” Hannah snickers then looks at the rest of us. “What are you all staring at?” She turns to follow our gaze. “Oh no, what is he doing? He knows who that is, right?”
We shrug.
“He’s not making it out alive tonight,” Hannah says, looking worried for him.
“He’s a big boy. Maybe it’s time they play nice and make up.”
Hannah doesn’t look convinced, and to be honest, neither am I. But instead of pulling my best friend out of the crossfire, I watch as an angel steps off the dance floor and falls into my arms.
“What’s that cheesy look for?” she asks, like she doesn’t know.
“Just looking at the most beautiful girl in the room, wondering if she’s an angel or a devil.”
Her flushed cheeks from dancing form into the sexiest grin. “Oh, I’m an angel all right. But later, when it’s dark and we’re all alone, I have some very, very bad things I plan on doing. So, one might say, I’m a bit of both.”
Hell with this.
I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, startling everyone around us. “Great wedding. Congrats to the lovely couple. We have to leave now.”
“Chase.” Bridget laughs while hanging upside down over my shoulder.
“Don’t come looking for us!” I wave everyone off and storm away. Then I spank her tight little ass. “Feel like a little role playing tonight, Angel?” I ask, carrying her out of the banquet hall toward the elevator leading to our hotel room.
“Oh, goodie, what is it tonight? I was a fan of the naughty college student.” I spank her ass again, because damn, so was I.
“Even better.” We ride the elevator up with her still over my shoulder. An elderly couple side-eyes us the whole way up. I don’t put her down until we’re in our room and I’m kicking the door shut behind me.
“Oh boy, you look serious. This must be a good one.” I walk toward her. I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but I’ve never felt so confident and scared shitless at the same time.
“That depends,” I say, stopping before her.
“On what?” Her voice is laced with lust.
“On how you feel about playing my fiancée.” I fish for the small box that’s been burning a hole in my pocket all night and bend down on one knee.
* * *
The End