Chapter 14

14

Heidi

Lucy doesn’t have a mirrored dresser in her room, so Mikayla and I brought in a chair from the kitchen and set up in the bathroom. I’m not really sure what Amanda meant by “make her look like a bride”, but I was too afraid to ask.

I looked for something white in Lucy’s closet for Mikayla to wear, but Lucy lives in dark colors, and she’s also pint-sized compared to the rest of us, so there’s no way anything would fit. And I don’t exactly drive around with my makeup collection in the trunk, so I can’t do much with Micky’s face, not that she needs it. And also, we have completely different skin tones. The most I can offer is to do something with her hair, and so that’s where I start.

I watch Mikayla through the mirror as the flat iron preheats and smile when she does. “You’re getting married,” I say, almost as excited as she is.

“Crazy, right?”

“Are you kidding?” I laugh out. “We’ve been waiting for this moment forever.”

“I know…”

“You don’t have to go into detail,” I state. “But whatever was holding you back, you’ve worked it out now?”

Before she has time to respond, there’s a knock on the door.

“If you’re anyone but Jake, you can enter!”

The door opens, and Roman pops his head in. “Demander said I need to help you. Though, I…” He glances at Mikayla, then me. “I don’t really know how much help I’ll be.”

I don’t look at him when I say, “I tried to find something white, anything , but I couldn’t. Maybe you can try?”

“On it,” he replies, closing the door between us.

I settle my hand on Micky’s head, ready to get to work, but she shifts, turning to me, her eyes wide. “What?” I ask.

“You’re blushing!”

“Shut up! Am not.” Maybe a little, but it’s hard not to. Roman is hot —all dark hair and dark eyes and tanned, masculine arms. Even beneath his sweatshirt, I can tell he’s built?—

“Heidi!”

“ What ?” I laugh. “So, he’s hot? So are a million other guys. I literally just met him tonight. I know nothing about him.”

“Jake said he played baseball with him. Didn’t you guys go to the same school?”

“Yes, but I don’t remember him.”

“Ooh,” Micky sings, facing the mirror again. “I bet you’ll remember him now.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and I bet he’ll forget me tomorrow.”

Mikayla’s nose scrunches. “Did he remember you from school?”

“Yeah.”

“See?” She raises her eyebrows. “You’re impossible to forget.”

Shaking my head, I tell her, “Either way, it’s not like—” I shut my mouth the second the door opens again. Roman walks in with sheer curtains, toilet paper, and a length of rubber hose.

“Those curtains are from Katie’s bed, are they?” Micky asks him.

Roman smiles. “No, but that’s where I got the idea. I took these from the curtain rods in the living room. There’s more in Cam and Lucy’s room if we need them.”

“And the toilet paper?” I ask.

He shrugs. “If the curtains weren’t appealing.”

I giggle, take the fabric from him. “I think this will work.”

“And the hose?” Micky asks him.

He looks so proud as he twists the hose to form a ring. “I figure we can join the ends and turn it into a crown or veil somehow.”

I gasp. “You are a genius, my friend.”

“Thanks.” He stands taller. “Sucks they’ll need to replace their hose, but whatever, right?” He squeezes Micky’s shoulder, adding, “You only get married once.” And then he turns to the door again. “I’m going to find some tape.”

“So resourceful,” Micky says once he’s left. “Good boyfriend qualities.”

“Quit it.” I aim the flat iron at her head. “Loose curls?”

She nods. “Loose curls.”

When Roman returns a few minutes later, he has another set of curtains, scissors and tape. “I have an idea,” he announces, all giddy with excitement. “You mind if I make the veil?”

“Go ahead,” I answer. “I’m not your boss.”

“Not yet,” Micky murmurs.

I shove her shoulder, causing her to laugh. “Ignore her,” I tell Roman, who’s looking so adorably confused. He sets himself up in the bathtub with all his supplies and gets right to work.

For a solid minute, no one speaks as I work on Micky’s hair, and Roman cuts strips out of the curtain. Not that I’m watching him. In fact, I’m trying my hardest to ignore his very presence. Me and boys right now? Not a good mix.

Micky breaks the silence. “I bet you have the most amazing, elaborate wedding planned.”

Internally, I lock up. Externally, I say, “Me?”

“No, Roman .”

Roman looks up from his task, pulling out an earphone I didn’t know was there. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Micky laughs. “Please resume listening to whatever you’re listening to.” She waits while Roman nods slowly, replaces the earphone, and gets back to work. Then continues, “I bet you have it all planned out. Where it is, what you’re wearing… oh, I bet it’s a destination wedding!”

I lower my gaze, focus on the curls I’m providing. “I don’t think so,” I tell her honestly. “I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m never going to walk down the aisle.”

“Heidi,” she scoffs. “It’s not like you have an expiration date. We’re still young!”

“No, I know,” I rush out. “It’s not the age thing. I just… I haven’t felt anything substantial with anyone for a while.” I glance over at Roman, but he’s so focused on his task, I don’t think he’s even paying attention. “There was Dylan, but that was a first love kind of thing. There was no one after him in college, and then I came back here, and all the good boys were gone, so…”

“So you moved to Atlanta to find love?”

“Not just for that.” I needed a fresh start somewhere else. Somewhere where I wasn’t Heidi from high school or Dylan’s ex, and to be honest, I felt like I needed a new set of friends. Not to replace these ones, but just… so I didn’t feel so much like an outsider all the time. I realized, far too quickly, that the things you may have in common with people don’t make for a solid foundation for friendship. I was twenty-three when I moved to Atlanta. I’m twenty-nine now, and I spent all those years searching for something else. Something more . With friends, with relationships, with a job or career I could get excited about. I never found it.

“Why Atlanta?” Micky asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

When I moved, I told everyone it was for a job prospect. There was no job. There was just… opportunity, I guess. This time, I tell Micky the truth. “You know the sports bar on Main?”

“Yeah.”

“They have this map of the U.S. on the wall, and one night, I was there with Cam and Luce, and we were playing darts, and… I aimed at the map and boom , Atlanta.”

Micky laughs, and I do, too. It’s kind of crazy, when I think about it, but it felt right at the time.

“What happened to that one guy you dated for, like, two years?” she asks. “Surely there was something substantial there? Some sparks, at least?”

“Oh, there were sparks all right. But sparks fade. And his faded first.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Did it make you scared to try again?”

“I don’t know…” I think about it for a moment, my gaze lost in my task. “I don’t really know what I want, you know? And I think, by this point, I should’ve figured it out. I have no prospects, no career.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Micky murmurs.

She has Jake—a man she’s literally about to marry. I keep that thought to myself, and I’m glad I do, because she elaborates.

“I was just telling Jake how I kind of felt the same way… that everything I have is because of him. It’s not the best feeling in the world to realize that while I’m extremely grateful and blessed to have him, it doesn’t deter from the fact that I feel like I’ve achieved nothing on my own.”

I ponder her words for a long moment, and as sad as it is that she feels that way, she’s also right. Not in a bad way. It’s just the way their lives played out. I never thought about it from her perspective before, because I always just saw it as her supporting him, which no doubt takes work, but I can totally understand how she feels.

“We should go into business together,” she says, and I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

“Yeah, that would be amazing.” Even the mere mention of it has me more excited than going back to my empty apartment in Atlanta and my crappy job as a social media manager and buyer for a crappy retail clothing chain. “But doing what?”

“I don’t know,” she laughs out. “I’m sure we could think of something.”

Maybe.

Maybe not.

“All done,” I state, clicking the flat iron twice before unplugging it from the wall. I turn to Roman, who’s been silent the entire time. “How you doing with that veil?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond, too busy working away.

I reach over, tap his shoulder. He looks up, dark brown eyes right on mine. “I’m almost done!” he shouts over the music only he can hear. “Don’t look! It’s a surprise!”

I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Okay…”

Mikayla giggles, and I settle my hands on her shoulders. “Maybe we should give you just a tiny bit of color on your lips,” I suggest.

“I think Lucy has some stuff in the drawers.”

I open the first draw, nothing. Then the second. I immediately close it. “How many fucking sex toys do those two have?”

“Done!” Roman announces, hopping out of the bathtub and handing his work over to me.

“Roman!” Micky gasps.

“Holy shit!” I echo her sentiment, staring down at the masterpiece in awe. He’s braided strips of the curtain and twisted it around the hose, so you can’t even tell what it once was. And in the strands of the braid, he’s tied long ribbons of fabric to make the “train” and one long solid piece to go over the face. “Roman, this is…”

He grins so wide, so proud, it makes me feel the same. “It’s good, huh?”

“It’s beautiful .”

“How do you know how to braid?” Micky asks him.

He shrugs. “I have a little sister. Well, she’s not so little anymore, but she was once, obviously…”

“And you braided her hair?” I coo.

He side-eyes the both of us, completely confused by our response. “Yeah?”

Micky and I share a glance, pouting and sharing an, “Awww.”

“That’s so adorable,” Micky adds, then makes sure to get my attention when she adds, “Good dad qualities.”

I stifle my giggle while Roman looks even more confused.

“Stand up. Time to work on the dress.”

Roman lies back in the bathtub and closes the shower curtain, as if Micky’s about to strip. She’s not. I do my best with what I have, which isn’t much. It’s too cold out to reveal any skin, so I just lay the fabric over her clothes and use safety pins to pin it in place, creating shape where I can. It takes way longer than I thought, and when I’m done, I say, “It’s not the best, but it’ll have to do.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” Micky says.

I say over my shoulder. “What do you think, Roman?”

There’s no response, and so I turn to the tub, slide open the curtain, ready to get his attention. But… I’m pretty sure the man is asleep . Sitting upright, his hands linked and on his lap, his chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm.

I turn to Micky, who grimaces, and then, as quietly as possible, I flick on the shower, busting out a laugh when Roman gasps the second the spray of water hits him. “What the—” He’s quick to come to. Quick to realize who’s responsible for his soaking, and I’m slow… way too slow to react when his hands reach out for me, lifting me over the lip of the bath and directly on top of him. I scream, wiggling as I try to get out of his hold and avoid the oncoming spray.

Micky laughs, then shouts over the chaos, “I’ll be right back!”

I manage to flip over and turn off the stream, just as the front door opens and Amanda calls out, “Ready when you are! I’ll leave a flashlight by the door!”

Cool.

Great.

Awesome.

Roman has an erection, and I know, because I’m straddling it.

I clear my throat, avoid all eye contact, and quickly hop out of the bath.

Roman does the same, minus the throat clearing. He does, however, adjust himself, right at my eye level as I attempt to towel off any excess water from my jeans.

“I’m hard, and you’re so damn wet,” he says out of nowhere, his voice low, rough .

Eyes wide in shock, I pop my head up and screech, “ What?”

After a chuckle, he grabs another towel and starts drying his hair. “It’s so easy to mess with you.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the inferno he just lit deep inside me. Too bad that heat won’t do anything for me outside. “I’m going to freeze out on that dock.”

“Nah, I’ll keep you warm.”

Standing to full height, I lift my chin and lock my eyes on his. I can’t tell if he’s still messing with me or… “Are you flirting with me, Roman…” Shit. “What’s your last name?”

He smirks—a wicked little sight that has my pulse racing. “You’ll have to go flipping through some old yearbooks for that one.”

“Hmm.” It’s all I say before I open the door to make my escape. A sea of bodies greets me, all large and masculine and turned away from me. Logan, Dylan and Cam are standing just outside the closed bedroom door, and they all turn to me when I ask, “What’s going on?”

Cam speaks for all of them, his voice just above a whisper. “We weren’t sure if she wanted one of us to walk her down the aisle or…”

My shoulders drop as I eye each of them one by one and, suddenly, it occurs to me why I’ve had so much trouble with the men in my life. It’s because I hold them to the same standard as the three men standing in front of me. I met them as boys—all impulse and bravado, and maybe a little immaturity, but they were always respectful. Always considerate. Always loyal—to their girls and to each other. Through the years, they’ve only grown in those sentiments. And my love for them, as brothers, has grown with it.

I push down the knot in my throat, the ache in my chest. “Did you ask her?”

“Not yet,” Dylan answers.

Logan adds, “We don’t really know how to bring it up…”

I push between them and knock gently on the door. “Micky, the guys are out here… Did you want one of them to walk you down?—”

“No!” she interrupts. “You guys go ahead. I just need a few minutes.”