“It’s crazy how good looking they all are, isn’t it?”
I look over to Jules smiling at me.
“Calendar worthy,” I agree.
“I want to apologize to you.”
I turn to face her, refusing to do what people expect and say not to worry about it.
“I know my actions have hurt other people, and I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m so glad you two are happy. He’s so in love with you.”
I bite my lip and look over at Brooks as he jokes with his colleagues.
“And I’m so in love with him.”
She squeezes my arm before walking away.
“And now with their significant others,” the photographer says.
I swallow, trying not to let disappointment settle inside of me.
“Babe?” Brooks says, his eyes locked on mine as he lifts his hand in my direction.
I cough, trying to clear my throat, but my eyes are still stinging as I make my way to him.
The pictures are taken and as soon as the photographer declares his job done, everyone starts to mill around.
“Ignacio Torres,” a man says to me with his hand out.
“Oh hey, Ig,” Brooks says. “This is my boyfriend, Archer Bremen.”
Ignacio rolls his eyes. “I know who he is. Big fan, man. Welcome to the family.”
Brooks flexes his fingers against my back.
“Big statement with the significant other picture,” another man says as he approaches.
“Wren,” Brooks mutters.
“Wren?” I ask with a smile, holding my hand out. “The man with the disguises.”
He shakes my hand, giving me a wink. “I figured you’d get a kick out of that.”
Brooks mutters something under his breath when Wren gets distracted by a beautiful woman with purple hair.
“You think we’re horndogs? Those two will probably end up getting naked in the toolshed within the hour,” Brooks whispers in my ear.
We spend an hour walking around talking to people. Brooks doesn’t hesitate to introduce me as his boyfriend, but each time he says it, he seems to grow more nervous. It doesn’t make much sense considering we haven’t gotten one snide remark. No one has seemed surprised or disgusted.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when we get a minute to ourselves.
“Come with me.” He clasps my hand, but it’s the clench of his jaw that makes me nervous.
Maybe it was too soon. Maybe he feels like he’s been put under a microscope.
He pulls me into a quiet bedroom upstairs, far away from the party filtering out of the house and into the backyard.
“What’s wrong?” I ask again because he didn’t answer me the first time.
He faces me after closing us into the room.
“I want to talk about that look on your face when I said I’ll never get to see you in a suit again.”
I shake my head. “I was… It was nothing. I blame the wedding.”
“I was certain that you were thinking about marrying me.”
I shake my head. “You just kissed me in front of everyone. I was high on the love I could feel between Jules and Kit. It was—”
Brooks drops to one knee, his hand pulling a ring from his pocket. “So, the answer is no?”
“Are you—I can’t imagine spending a single second with anyone else.” I try to swallow my emotions. Rock stars aren’t supposed to cry, but that doesn’t stop the tears from beading on my bottom lashes. “Yes.”
“Yeah?”
I nod like a maniac, clutching my palm to my chest the second Brooks slides the ring on my hand.
Then his lips are on mine, the promises he made with his eyes during the ceremony coming to life.
“Nothing says I want to marry you like a blow job.”
I pull back, a retort on my lips about not sucking his cock in his friend’s parents’ home, but his fingers start working open my pants, and who am I to deny the man?
A loud knock startles both of us, and Brooks barely manages to stand in front of me when the door swings open.
“Hate to interrupt.” The man that was introduced to me earlier as Gaige Ward stands in the now open doorway.
“Yet here the fuck you are,” Brooks mutters, opening his jacket as I zip my pants back up.
The action is so fucking obvious, a laugh bubbles from my throat.
“Deacon just got a call from New Mexico,” Gaige says.
“Cerberus?”
The man nods. “The shit has hit the fan and they’re requesting our help.”
“How long?”
“Wheels up in an hour,” Gaige says before backing out of the room and closing the door.
Brooks warned me that things like this would happen, but it doesn’t really prepare me.
“You have to go,” I whisper when he turns back around to face me.
“I’ll think of you every second.” He presses his lips to mine. “I love you, Archer.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, knowing I’ll count every single second until he’s back in my arms.
THE END