Round 33

C ome on, come on.” Neema tapped my arm. Then, when it didn’t work, my face. “We have to get a move on. The appointment is at seven a.m., and then we can finally go to the venue, and I’ve made it my mission to take your mind off things.”

“It’s your pre-wedding getaway. It’s not about me.” I groaned as I opened my eyes, which burned from the tears shed overnight.

The venue Neema and Shaun booked for the wedding, Villa Erba, was about an hour’s drive out of town. They offered two nights’ accommodation free as part of the wedding package, but Neema convinced them to give us two rooms for one night, allowing us some pre-wedding relaxation.

For me, it meant the possibility of talking to William and a chance to sort through the inventory of things we needed to discuss, starting with the surprise proposal I’d rather not think about.

But first, we needed to go to Taylor’s Tailor for our final fitting.

The tailor stuck a few pins along the bottom of my dress, mumbling under her breath how she was sure I’d been taller when she’d measured me the first time.

“She’s shrinking,” William said, as he and Shaun walked into the room.

I shook at the sound of his gravelly morning voice. One of the pins poked me, and I yelped.

The woman cackled at my expense and mumbled, “Stop moving.”

William offered me a soft smile that I wasn’t sure what to do with. After the previous night, I’d expected Angry William or Annoyed William—or, at the very least, Vague-I-Have-Something-to-Tell-You William. Instead, I received the strangest version of him yet.

Soft William.

I glanced at Shaun, willing him away so I could have a moment to check in with his half brother, but Shaun stayed put as the old lady held up the jacket of William’s almost finished suit. He slipped into it like it was made for him. Well, I suppose it was, obviously. He flexed, running his hand through his hair, and I worried his arms might burst the seams of his jacket sleeves.

The sleeves survived. I, however, did not.

As if sensing my silly thoughts, he looked at me and chuckled.

My anxiety edged away with each smile or wink he so generously offered me.

Neema emerged from her private fitting, beaming. She wouldn’t let anyone except the dressmaker see her, and I was both a bit hurt and more than a little excited to be part of the big reveal on the day of her wedding. She was going to be the most beautiful bride ever.

“How about some breakfast before we hit the road?” I said, my stomach grumbling.

We walked out to the cars, and Shaun paused. “Wait, Rose. When I texted you earlier, you said you were running late because you were having breakfast. So, this would be your second breakfast then?” Shaun smiled at his brother.

William caught the Lord of the Rings reference, and his dimple made a delicious dip on the side of his handsome face.

“The jokes write themselves,” William said. “I’m not even going to add to that. It’s perfection. It is art.”

I punched him, but he caught my fist and let it go almost immediately. His eyes jumped to Shaun, who glanced over at us.

Neema tossed the keys to Shaun. “Since you’re jumping in with us, you can drive. I’d like a nap.”

Shaun nodded, and I turned to William.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked, failing to hide the disappointment in my tone.

This only made his lips curl up. “I am. But I have something really important that I need to finish first. I’ll be there a bit later.” He held my gaze a second longer than usual before lifting his hand in a wave.

I sucked in the deep desire I had to be close to William and climbed into the backseat, trying not to mope about it.

When we arrived at the venue, I took a moment to admire the beauty of the old, rustic building covered in dark green flowering vines. Images of my own planned wedding, with Patrick as the groom, sprung to mind. I shuddered at the thought.

Carefree Rose. Casual, carefree Rose. This is about Shaun and Neema. Not about me. Or Patrick.

I repeated it to myself, hoping at some point I’d believe it.

“So, what’s William busy with?” I asked.

Shameful snooping and yet I couldn’t help it.

“Dunno. I asked and he said ‘work,’” Shaun replied, his tone hiding a hint of frustration.

At that exact moment, the events coordinator appeared with a list of questions. We volunteered Shaun’s services while Neema and I went upstairs to check out our bedroom.

“I can’t believe Shaun doesn’t want to have sex until our wedding night.” Neema tutted, throwing herself onto one of the beds.

I collapsed on the other. “I think it’s sweet. It’s only a few more days. If I’ve survived this long, you’ll be okay.”

Grumbling to myself, I thought of all the times I’d tried to rabidly climb William, and each time we were either interrupted or William had cooled us down just as we’d begun firing up.

Neema shot me a look and then rolled over and shoved her face into the pillow with a loud groan. “Don’t confirm any of this, because if you do, I’ll have to tell Shaun. But, Rose,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow, “I am not blind, and I see how you glow in William’s presence. I’m all for fun, you know that. You deserve it. But right now you’re a little sad, and I think it’s because he’s not here. That tells me it’s more than just hooking up.” She shoved her face deeper into the pillow. “And now, a wild Patrick has appeared, and I don’t know if you can handle this level of chaos.”

I was completely unsure how to respond.

“So?” she asked, lifting her head in my direction while holding the pillow against her face.

“You said not to confirm anything.” My mouth had gone dry. I kept my gaze fixed on the crystal chandelier above the bed, grateful she couldn’t see me.

“Tell me you both know what you’re doing, and you know what you want. Tell me you’ve discussed something , and this isn’t going to blow up and make us all awkward with one another.”

When I didn’t say anything, she lowered the pillow until her eyes peeked above the satin edge. Her brows drew together upon seeing my face.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” My heart banged against my rib cage, a call for help. “We haven’t spoken—”

Neema let out a high-pitched squeak and lifted the pillow to shield her face once more. She blew out a frustrated breath. Suddenly, it dawned on me how selfish I’d been. I had ignored how this thing—this unnamed thing between William and me—would affect her and Shaun, or Shaun and me, or her and William.

If William and I ended things, was game night together still an option? If I was engaged to Patrick, would we still hang out together? Would Neema have to coordinate which nights I could visit and which nights William could?

A soft whimper escaped me.

This time, she tossed the pillow aside and faced me. “You’re already emotionally attached, aren’t you?”

The corners of my lips flicked downward even though I tried to keep a straight face. I imagined I looked a lot like a sad, guilty puppy.

Her expression softened, and she jumped from her bed to mine. “Oh, hon.”

“Are you going to tell Shaun?”

“I can’t start a marriage with a secret that absolutely affects and involves him.”

A number of powerful emotions fought within me for supremacy. Sheer panic seemed to be winning. But fear wasn’t far behind.

“Can you give me a few days? I want to speak to William and respond to Patrick. Please? It’ll be sorted before the wedding.”

“Have you figured out what you want to say to Patrick?” she asked.

“I wish I didn’t have to think about any of this.”

Neema sighed, and when she spoke, her voice was free of concern. “You deserve to shut down that brain of yours sometimes.” She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “So, is he as good as we all assume he is?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I burst out laughing and shook my head.

“It’s not?”

“We haven’t actually done that, yet. But…” I hesitated as blood rushed to my cheeks. “He’s very good at other things.”

“Dammit, I knew he would be. That jerk.” Her laughter shook the bed. “I was really hoping he’d suck at something.”

I hated secrets, and being able to have someone—especially Neema—know about William sent a whoosh of air back into my collapsed lungs.

“So, what’s stopping you anyway?” she asked.

“I don’t know…” I thought about what William kept saying. “We aren’t ready, yet.” To lighten the mood, I added, “And for your information, you’re constantly getting in our way.”

Neema grinned. “What? When?”

“Literally every time we’re alone. That day you came home and found William there…” I covered my fiery face.

“No, what?” Her eyes grew wide, her smile even wider. “You were supposed to be sick.”

My cheeks were so hot that I could fry an egg on them. “Even the balcony.”

“Rose! You saucy minx!” A shocked laugh escaped her. “I can’t even picture you doing that.”

“I don’t want you to picture it!”

As if a pipe had burst on the secrets I held, I told her everything: when things started with William, where it started, about the secret kisses, and even the dreams about William.

I did, however, leave out the part about the syrup.

That was our little secret.