Page 28 of Taking Chances

“I thought it was a pretty couply thing to do.” Her gaze drops shyly.

“You’re right. We’ll look great.” I fasten the bow tie around my neck as her face lights up.

With the matching color, there’s no doubt that we’re here together. A strange feeling blooms inside my stomach. Primal satisfaction with the fact that everybody will know she’s mine.

Or at least think so.

The hotel’swedding hall is even more luxurious than the rest of it. Sparkling marble floors, elegant drapery, massive chandeliers. There must be thousands of champagne-coloredroses strewn around, composing lavish centerpieces and arrangements. I guess the goal was for it to look elegant and sophisticated, but if you ask me, it’s tacky.

The wedding ceremony is already done. They had a small ceremony with only the closest people present and pulled all the stops for the reception. Can’t say I’m sad we weren’t present for the ‘I dos’, and judging by Anne’s rigid posture, I don’t think it was something she was supposed to see either.

She exhales a long breath as I press my hand to her lower back, mentally sending her the energy to survive this. Her shoulders pull back, and my chest fills with air.

This must be absolute torture for her, but she’s following through on it, showing everyone where to stick it.

“Breathe. You’re going to be fine,” I say next to her ear, and her skin prickles. She turns halfway around, shooting me a small thankful smile. A server ushers us to our designated table as the string quartet does their renditions of famous pop songs.

Anne freezes coming to the table, and I almost run into her.

“Wh. . .” I start saying, before noticing a woman and a man staring at the two of us. The woman bears a faint resemblance to Anne, but her hair is bleached and her freckles are buried under a ton of makeup.

“Kaitlyn. What are you doing here?” Anne’s voice is soft and insecure, and I hate it.

“Why wouldn’t we be here? We were always great friends with Bryce.”

Anne looks like she was slapped. “Right,” she mumbles, her cheeks tinting with a blush. She turns to me, her emerald eyes glossy. “This is my sister Kaitlyn and her husband Brad. This is Lennox, my date.”

“Her boyfriend.” I shake their hands with a bright—though fake—smile, their gazes zoning onto my tattooed hands.

What a couple of dicks.Yes, you should get along with your sister’s boyfriend. But it’s also common knowledge that when the same boyfriend dumps your sister for another woman, he’s dead to you. You certainly don’t celebrate his nuptials.

“Boyfriend?” The douche named Brad raises his eyebrows, and I pull Anne closer to me by her waist. He looks just like you’d expect a Brad to look. I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup of finance bros if you paid me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” her sister states.

If you cared enough to ask her how she was, you’d know she was coming,is what I want to say.

Instead, I say, “Why wouldn’t she be here? He’s happy, she’s happy. I can only thank him because I would have never met her if they hadn’t broken up.” I do my best impression of a ‘guy madly in love’ and bend down to press a kiss to Anne’s temple. Her scent penetrates my nose, pulling out a satisfied smile from me, making my role much easier to play.

Kaitlyn’s gaze narrows at the place where Anne and I are joined, and I know in that second she doesn’t approve.

Good.

Anne’s life isn’t her sister’s to lead. And I’d better show Kaitlyn that.

My girlfriend is still glued to the spot, obviously derailed with her sister’s presence. We haven’t prepared for that. I knew this whole thing would be hard for her, but I haven’t expected shit to start before the newlyweds even arrived.

Speaking of. . .

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you”—a loud voice booms through the speakers as everyone stands to clap— “Mr. and Mrs. Bryce Landstorm.”

I barely suppress the roll of my eyes and put on a polite face. Not a fan of weddings in general, but what always irked me is calling the wife by the husband’s name.

What, she isn’t a person anymore? Just his property? Bullshit.

While I’m stuck in my thoughts, Anne continues clapping like on autopilot. She’s doing a horrible job of acting unbothered, but everyone is too focused on the happy couple to notice.

I better up my fake-date game.

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