Page 55 of Well Played

“What?” Cian’s arms dropped, his face a picture of confusion.

The officer seemed to have taken an instant dislike to my friend and reacted to his confusion with unbridled aggression.

“Get your hands where I can see them.” He stomped forward, gun leveled at Cian’s chest.

“You’re all under arrest for trespassing. So keep your fucking mouths shut unless you want to make things worse for yourselves.”

We took the officer’s advice and kept quiet as the three of us were cuffed and escorted away from our perfect location and into the waiting cop car.

The backseat was unforgivably small with three athletes taking up the space, but the cops didn’t take kindly to the suggestion that one of us sit in the front instead, so I dropped my head back on a sigh, hoping we could get this misunderstanding sorted out quickly once we got to the station.

The day had looked so bright to start.

I could only pray things were going better for Mia.

And that we could use our phone call to find someone to bail us out in time for the wedding.

4

Mia

Tradition was stupid.

I’d been out of sorts all morning since waking up in our bed alone. Oscar insisted it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, so he’d stayed at Cian’s house with Cam and had their version of a bachelor party.

Despite the fact Oscar and I met when I was performing in a burlesque revue, strippers weren’t his scene. Without having to speak to him, I knew his night had consisted of pizza and beers with the boys while they played video games and talked about life. They were a very sweet trio, and only Cian was single of the three of them. Whichever woman eventually caught his eye would have their work cut out for them.

The slam of my front door pulled me from my brooding, and a moment later a wild eyed Violet appeared in the entrance to the kitchen.

"Your brother's here," she breathed, an uncharacteristic flush painting her cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

"I just...he... his friend..."

Realization dawned and I smothered a smirk as male voices drifted in from the front porch.

"Mateo hit on you, didn't he?"

"He looks like a god."

I snorted. "He's a major player, and he's supposed to be behaving himself. He's just here as Luca's emotional support extrovert. Whenever Luca is feeling uncomfortable, Mateo gets more outrageous to draw attention away from him.

Violet paused. "Oh. That's sweet, actually. Kind of like how Oscar looks after Cam."

"Kind of... but way more co-dependent."

"I heard that," Luca's deep voice set my grin free. I ducked past Violet and threw myself at my older brother. He smelled of chlorine and the only safe space I'd had as a child.

His body tensed beneath my arms before relaxing into the hug with a heavy sigh. Luca hated to be touched by anyone. I was the only exception to the rule.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I breathed into his wide chest. He grunted, squeezing me a little tighter in acknowledgement.

“I hate to break up the love fest, but shouldn’t your make-up artist be here by now?” Violet asked, glancing at her phone. I reluctantly pulled out of Luca’s arms, taking his wrist to tow him into the kitchen where I’d left my cell. A text was waiting for me and, after a quick scan, I sighed.

“She’s called in sick.” Raking a hand through my hair, I considered my options as Luca and Mateo slid onto stools on the far side of my kitchen counter. I was already doing my hair myself, and I’d had years of practice doing make-up for my burlesque performances. I’d hired a professional because Oscar was so excited for the day that I wanted something special. To look like I fit into his perfect idea of what a wedding should be.

We had the perfect venue, and the perfect dress, and a perfect cake, and… holy shit I was going to ruin it. The thought hit me like a two hundred pound anvil landing square on my chest. I clawed at my throat as my lungs seized, refusing to admit air I desperately needed. A high pitched whine rang in my ears as I folded into myself and prayed I didn’t black out.

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