Page 5 of The Attack Zone

I sneak a look at Stacey. God, she is gorgeous. I’m so intimidated by her, I can’t seem to find the words to try to convince her to help our friends.

Finally, after a drawn-out silence in which I try to think of any words I could use to be convincing, she rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she says. “But I get to pick my own bridesmaid dress.”

“Sold!” says Cassie triumphantly.

I’m not sure exactly what I did to make Staceyhateme. I guess we just really rub each other the wrong way. Well, I rub her the wrong way at least. A normal person would probably be concerned about someone they pay hating them, but Stacey is incredibly competent, and she clearly works hard for my organization. We had a record number of dog adoptions last year and have hit every single fundraising goal we set since she started. It’s hard to argue with those results, even if I find myself arguing with Stacey over stupid shit more than I’d care to admit.

I think it really all comes down to an unfortunate screaming match we got into about the invitation for my gala a couple of years ago. I guess I can be a bit ... intense sometimes. Other times I would have let Stacey walk all over me, but I was in an irritable place, and I let her get to me. It wasn’t my finest moment, and ever since then, she went from being mildly annoyed with me to outright disliking me. Or hating, I guess.

Despite all of that, as I’m sitting next to her at this dinner, I find my hands getting all clammy and my heart beating extra fast every time she glances in my direction. I don’t know why she has this effect on me. I’m a professional hockey player. I haven’t exactly had a hard time with women in the past. But from the moment I met Stacey, I haven’t been able to think about being with another woman. Which is really inconvenient.

I realize I’ve been zoning out—I do that sometimes—and tune back into the conversation. Caleb and Stacey are having an animated discussion about something related to colors for the wedding while Cassie’s eyes appear to have glazed over. Cassie will definitely be the opposite of a bridezilla, which means that at least Stacey and I really only have to worry about pleasing Caleb with our plans. That could prove to be more difficult.

“I don’t know, I guess I just want the colors to mean something,” says Caleb.

“I’ll pull together some options and we can talk about the meaning behind each of them. Don’t worry, there’s going to be so much symbolism in this wedding. It’ll be everywhere.”

“Yes,” I say. “We’llpull together some options for you.”

I’m not about to let Stacey push me out of this process fifteen minutes into it.

“Great!” says Caleb, completely oblivious to the daggers being thrown at me from Stacey’s eyes.

“How involved do you both want to be in the process?” I ask.

“If I could just show up at whatever time you two tell me to be there, get into a dress, and go, that would be great,” says Cassie.

Caleb lets out a chuckle and wraps an arm around her. “It’s a good thing I know you actually do want to marry me, otherwise I’d be worried.”

“I’m just not really a wedding person. But of course I want to marry you, baby,” she says.

Now they’re staring deeply into each other’s googly eyes. My heart swells for my friends. They deserve their happily ever after, and they’re trusting Stacey and me to give it to them. It’s a massive undertaking but also a huge honor. I can’t let them down.

The Next Day

Caleb and I are at our neighboring stalls getting changed, when Thomas appears from around the corner.

“So, did Stacey kill you?” he asks Caleb.

Caleb lets out a laugh while pulling his practice jersey over his head. “She wasn’t too thrilled, but I’m glad we did it.”

“Wait, you knew about this?” I ask Thomas.

“It was my idea,” he says with a shrug.

I’m going to kill this motherfucker.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I say.

“What? You know Caleb and Cassie can’t plan a wedding without help. And we both know you’re dying to spend more time with Stacey. It’s perfect!” he says.

“It’s a nightmare, actually,” I say. I couldn’t be with Stacey even if I wanted to be, not that I’d ever admit it, so I go with a partial truth. “She said shehatesme last night.”

“Ouch,” he says.

“Exactly,” I say.

“Well, you just need to figure out a way to get her to not hate you anymore,” says Caleb.

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