“Uncle West, Evie wants to know if I can run with her to town to pick up a few things for the centerpieces,” Scarlett says from the doorway.
“Yeah, of course,” I say.
From the second we arrived, Elle’s sisters surrounded Scarlett, bathing her in attention like she was some kind of novelty, making her feel like the guest of honor, even going so far as to call her an “honorary Napier sister” for the week.
We weren’t going to come to the wedding—at least I wasn’t going to. Elle had planned on bringing Scarlett all along. But after a while, the thought of sitting this out while my best girls danced the macarena barefoot plagued me, and I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun.
That and I couldn’t help but remember Elle mentioning that her high school boyfriend was going to be in attendance.
I’m not a jealous man, nor am I insecure, but there’s something about weddings and old flames that makes people nostalgic. Throw in an open bar, and it’s a recipe for bad decisions. Not that I don’t trust Elle. It’s him I don’t trust. Elijah with the Pacific-evergreen eyes. The one she wrote about in that column about first times.
He may have been her first everything.
But I fully intend to be her last everything.
At the very least, I should be there to serve as a buffer between the two of them should he choose to annoy her with his presence. She’s a kind and gracious woman, but I’m a skilled conversationalist—and I’m fully prepared with an exit strategy for any and all encounters.
“You want to see my room?” Elle takes my hand, leading me up a polished staircase, past a wall of family portraits, down a hallway lined with vintage sconces, and into a bedroom anchored with a pink canopy bed covered in stuffed animals. “This is probably the least sexy room you’ll ever be in in your entire life, but this is where I grew up.”
The faint scent of strawberries and bubble gum fills the air, and I make my way toward a bulletin board hanging over a dresser on the far wall. It’s pinned with track medals, prom pictures, and newspaper clippings, and I’m introduced to a version of Elle I’ve yet to meet.
“You were adorable, and I mean that in a noncreepy way,” I tease, feasting my eyes on a picture of a freckle-faced girl with thick glasses and a mouth full of braces, silently imagining her image merged with mine. I was lucky in that I never went through that awkward teenage phase. By some stroke of good fortune, I was blessed with clear skin and straight teeth. “Is this Elijah?”
I point to an image of two awkward teenagers dressed in stuffy formal wear, standing in some mechanical pose in front of a balloon backdrop, her hand on the lapel of his rented tuxedo.
She laughs through her nose. “Yes. That’s Elijah.”
Maybe it’s unfair to say this about a teenager, but the guy looks like a tool. Arrogant smile. Smug posture. Perfect hair. Dimples.
“Speaking of, you’re going to meet him tonight, so don’t say anything crazy.” She turns me to face her, straightening the collar of my dress shirt.
“Elle.” I tsk and tilt my head. “You should know me better than that by now.”
“I’m serious. Be nice.”
“I’ll be more than nice. In fact, I want to shake his hand and thank him for sending you straight into the arms of someone who actually knows a good thing when he has it.”
Rising on her toes, she presses her cherry blossom mouth onto mine, and I waste no time pulling her against me. I give her perfect ass a squeeze, and she swats me away.
“Later,” she says. “We have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. My mom will serve both our heads on a platter if we miss rehearsal.”
I scan the restaurant for Elle’s emerald-eyed ex the second we step inside the old barn turned winery turned rehearsal dinner venue.
I find him at the bar. At least I think it’s him. He looks vaguely like the douche in the prom photo. Earlier I overheard one of Elle’s sisters talking about how Elijah’s a dentist in Saint Louis, and the guy at the bar is flashing a megawatt smile in an unnatural shade of ice white. It’s so bright it’s practically glowing from the other side of the room, like a beacon of light—or a bug zapper.
Placing my hand on the small of Elle’s back, I navigate us through the crowded setting, watching to see if she’s looking for him too.
“Aunt Candace!” Elle trots toward a woman in a floral jumpsuit. “I haven’t seen you forever!” The two make small talk for a moment before she finally introduces me, which then leads to an introduction to her uncle Curt and her cousins Natalie and Natasha (twins), followed by another aunt-uncle-cousin set, as well as her grandparents on her father’s side.