Page 55 of The Trouble with Runaway Brides

She smacks him on the back of the head.

“Damn it, I’m kidding.”

“Easton. Language,” his mom scolds him.

“Hate to break it to you, Mom, but I’ve said a lot worse in these halls.”

“Just let her take the picture.” Mr. Bailey gives his son what I remember is his disciplinary look. Easton never did know when to stop.

Brinley hops on Easton’s back and he holds her there, seemingly without much effort. Thank goodness she’s casual in pants and a shirt with the Smokin’ Guns Tattoo Parlor logo on it.

“Now, you two.” Mrs. Bailey points at me and Lance.

“Let me help.” Geoff walks over and lifts Lance’s arm. “Kenz, come over and stand under here.”

I swallow hard and make my way forward, feeling as though I have a school of fish swimming in my stomach. As soon as I take my spot, I’m surrounded by Lance’s scent, the warmth of his body, and the hard press of his torso. His arm is lazily drooped over my shoulders, just like in the picture, because back then, that was our stance.

“You need to lay the back of your head on his chest,” Geoff says.

“I really don’t.” My voice is paper thin.

“Aunt Holly, take the picture,” Lance says with a bite in his tone.

“There’s no use in doing it if we don’t do it right.” Since when did his aunt Holly become such a stickler?

“Fine.” With a huff, I lay my head on his chest, right over his heart.

“Now take the picture, Mom,” Easton says.

She steps back to get us all in the shot, but Geoff steps in with some last-minute changes—he fixes Brinley’s hair, and he tilts my head so it’s more my cheek than the back of my head resting on Lance’s chest.

It’s then I feel Lance’s heart beating through his shirt. It’s beating so fast I’d be worried if mine didn’t match the same cadence. I inhale his scent, closing my eyes, allowing myself to be taken back to when that original picture was taken. I was naive to think that would be my life forever. That it would be Lance and me forever.

“Okay, guys, perfect.” Mrs. Bailey smiles at the four of us.

Lance quickly steps back, and I almost fall backward before I catch my footing and straighten myself.

“Can we please just get this over with now?” Easton says like a whiney teenager. Obviously, being here with me puts everyone on edge.

I pull Mrs. Bailey aside as they all head off toward the gym.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Her face is etched with concern.

“I think maybe Blake should take my place. I mean, I don’t think…”

She looks at the others filing into the gym, then back at me. “You earned this, Kenzie. I know Blake did too, but he didn’t attend Lake Starlight High. Take this for yourself. And as far as the others… well, this whole thing has been going on way too long. The four of you need to have a sit-down and clear the air once and for all.”

I don’t respond, nor do I move. That idea feels like both a dream and a nightmare. It would be good to shed some of the shame I’ve walked around with since that night in my freshmen year of college. But would sitting down with them really do any good?

“Just remember, you were one of those girls years ago. A girl who I don’t think dreamed as big as she made it. Wouldn’t you like to change one of their futures?”

I smile. Mrs. Bailey has won so many awards for her work with senior students, making sure they start on the right path. It’s no surprise she knows what to say to help me. “You’re right.”

She hooks her arm in mine. “All right. Let’s go.”

I walk into the gym and step up on the platform to take my spot. For whatever reason, my chair is right between Lance and Easton and a little of my newfound confidence fades away. This should be fun.

Eighteen

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