The girl quickly backed away, apologizing as she retreated.

You weren’t ready to admit it, hell, neither was I, but I think I knew you loved me then. I think I had an idea of it when you stayed with me when I was sick, but at that moment, I knew.

You approached the bar, signaling for the bartender. It only took him a second to notice you, which wasn’t surprising at all.

“I need something strong. A double of something strong.”

The bartender smiled and opened his arms, gesturing to the many bottles around him. “Do you want a chaser?”

He grinned as you shook your head. “A woman after my own heart.” He lifted a clean tumbler and set it on the bar with a distinct clang. “Rough night?” He was oblivious to me; you have that effect on people. “It must be girl troubles,” he concluded, ignoring a group of people trying to catch his attention at the end of the bar.

Your face was slightly guarded but revealed the slightest trace of humor as you accepted the glass from him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because a guy would have to be out of his fucking mind to dick around with you.”

You drained the glass in one drink which had my eyes widen with disbelief. “I think that stems more from my boyfriend. He can be … intimidating.” You slid the empty glass toward him and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

I’m pretty sure my eyes closed because I don’t think you even realized what you were doing to the poor bastard who muttered, “I bet.”

“If you see him, tell him I’ll be ready for some crazy soon.” You turned to face me and winked. I don’t think I’d ever seen you wink before that—it made my head shake and my lips slide into a smile before you headed out to the dance floor again.

“And that is why I fucking love my job. How many other guys can say they get to talk to girls that look like that?”

“A lucky few of us,” I replied, turning to see that he was also watching you descend into the crowd, raising my need to stake a claim. “Granted, I’m the one that takes her home.”

“Lucky bastard,” he said, shaking his head.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I gripped my beer and glanced into the crowd to find you again before making my way over to where my brothers and the other guys converged.

I hung out with the small group for a while. Tyler and Greg, friends of Billy’s made me laugh and reminded me a lot of Jameson. I was glad he had made some good friends that seemed more level headed than him.

“I think that girl’s stalking you,” Greg said, inclining his head.

I glanced over and saw a girl in a silver dress, it was the dark haired girl that had hit on me at the bar. “She’s all yours,” I said, turning so my back faced her.

“So you and your girl are pretty serious, huh?”

I looked at Greg and raised my eyebrows, as I took a drink to gauge where his question derived from: interest in you, pure curiosity, or interest in the brunette possibly?

“Yeah, I don’t plan on fucking things up. Especially not with another chick.”

“Hey, boys, you see my woman around?” I looked over to see Trent nearing us and felt my jaw tense. Do you remember Trent, Kiefer’s older brother? They’re both douchebags, so I hope you don’t.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, but I’m sure they’re out there shaking their asses,” Billy said, coming up behind Trent with Hank flanking him.

“Come on, Millers, let’s go see what kind of trouble they’re causing.” Hank wrapped an arm around mine and Billy’s shoulders and we headed to the dance floor.

My eyes scanned the crowded bar. It was dark and the purple lights bouncing off every surface provided little illumination the further we get from the bar.

“What the fuck?”

I turned and watched Billy push his way through the crowd, making my eyes scan over the crowds in the direction he was headed. I saw Molly dancing with a couple of men and one of her bridesmaids. The back of her dress had slid up so high I wouldn’t doubt that the guy was seeing some cheekage, or more like feeling it, since his hands were the reason that it was up so high.

Hank shook his head as we watched Billy push the guy away. “Hell on wheels,” he repeated. “What about you? Any wedding bells in your future?” I could tell by the grin on his face that he was trying to be a dick, but this was probably the hundredth time that someone mentioned marriage to me and the word had been creeping into my thoughts far more than I’d ever care to admit.

He started moving forward, further proof that he was just giving me a hard time, and I tried to shove the thoughts away as we approached you and Sarah, dancing together with a couple of my cousins’ wives and a bridesmaid.

The wedding was simple, walking a fine line between being casual and trashy. Most of my family looked out of place and overdressed in suits and dresses, while Molly’s side wore mostly Wranglers with thick circle patterns worn into their back pockets and massive amounts of plaid shirts. Grandma Miller was ready to raise hell and start tossing people out of the church when she saw a large group of men sitting together, all wearing their cowboy hats. I could see her and knew the tangent she was silently cursing them with, educating them on how you’re supposed to dress nice when you go to someone’s house, let alone God’s house. My brothers and I had been on the receiving end of that speech one too many times. My mom and Uncle Lenny sensed it too because they each reached out and held her hands tightly in their own. She didn’t argue but looked contemptuous each time she braved a glance across the aisle.

As the day progressed, so did my stress. Every time I turned around, someone was there to ask me about when I was going to propose? How? Had I picked a ring? Would it be in California? How many children did we want? Thank God most of them had at least enough sense to not ask me while you were around, because the times that occurred only made the situation that much more awkward. By the time the night was over, I felt tense and agitated with questions that I didn’t have answers to, swirling through my brain.

We ended up back at the hotel room where I took a shower, hoping the time to myself and hot water would calm me down.

You were in bed when I opened the bathroom door, your dress was still on, but your hair was wavy from being up all day. I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t know why I didn’t just kiss you and tell you I was exhausted and go to bed. There are a lot of should haves these days, and like the rest, this one is answered with, I didn’t.

“What are you reading?” Seeking the comfort you bestowed upon me so easily, I stretched my body against yours. For the first time, it didn’t dull all of the restlessness I was fighting with.

I hadn’t foreseen receiving all of those questions when I asked you to come, and I was contemplating if I was regretting asking you. I had no idea how to handle any of them, because as much as we talked and as much as I knew you cared about me, I had concerns about the large topics we never brought up. Like why I allowed all of the rumors about my “overactive sex life” from high school, or the fact that you dated nearly half of the student body yet never slept with any of them. Those questions suddenly made the air seem heavy.

“I’m reading a book about two crazy people having a very carnal, sexual relationship.” You lifted the book to show me a nearly naked couple on the cover. “Your aunt Louise heard I like to read, and would really like to discuss it with me.” Your lips folded in as you pressed them together.

When I didn’t give a reaction your eyes grew. “Discussing this book with her is going to require some kind of therapy! Read this!” You swung the book toward me and stabbed the page. I looked up to see your eyes focused on mine, waiting for me to actually read it.