Page 92 of Worth the Fall

I sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. I'll try it on. But I swear, Hector, if you take any pictures…"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says, but the gleam in his eye tells me that's a blatant lie.

I shrug on the jacket, the sequins cold and scratchy against my skin. I feel like a human mirror ball, ready to be hung from the ceiling of a '70s prom.

Austin wolf-whistles. "Looking good, Ramirez. All you need is a disco stick and you're ready to boogie."

I glare at him, but it's hard to muster much venom when I'm blinded by my own reflection.

"See?" Hector grins, circling me like a shark. "I told you. Bold. Daring. Unforgettable."

"Ridiculous," I counter, trying to tug the jacket off. But the sequins, evil little things that they are, have decided to stage a revolt. They cling to my shirt, snagging the fabric and refusing to let go.

I'm stuck. Trapped in a disco inferno of my own making.

Austin, the traitor, is laughing so hard he has to lean against a rack of suits to stay upright. Hector looks torn between helping me and joining in the mirth.

"Not a word," I warn them both, my voice slightly muffled by the jacket that's now halfway over my head. "Not. A. Word."

It takes ten minutes, some creative wiggling, and a very patient tailor to free me from the sequined monstrosity. By the time I'm back in my normal clothes, I'm sweating, I'm annoyed, and I'm more convinced than ever that simple and classic is the way to go.

"No more bold choices," I declare, holding up a hand to silence Hector's protest. "I'm wearing a black tux. End of story."

"But—"

"No."

"What if?—"

"Also no."

Hector deflates, pouting like a toddler denied a cookie. "You're no fun."

"I'm plenty of fun," I argue. "I just don't think my wedding day is the time to experiment with avant-garde fashion."

Austin, having finally recovered from his laughing fit, claps me on the shoulder. "Probably smart. Mia might not appreciate you upstaging her with your daring sartorial choices."

I snort. As if anyone could upstage Mia. She's going to be breathtaking no matter what I wear. The thought makes my annoyance fade, replaced by a warm rush of anticipation. In justa few short weeks, she'll be my wife. We'll be starting our life together, officially. A family.

"Earth to Miguel," Hector waves a hand in front of my face. "You've got that dopey grin again. The one that means you're thinking about Mia and forgetting the rest of us exist."

I blink, shaking off my reverie. "Sorry. Wedding brain."

"Wedding brain or Mia brain?" Austin teases.

"Both," I admit, not even bothering to deny it. "She just… she makes everything better. Even wedding planning stress."

Hector and Austin exchange a look, one that's equal parts exasperated and fond.

"You've got it bad," Hector says, but he's smiling. "Alright, alright. Black tux it is. But don't say I didn't try to spice things up."

"Your efforts are duly noted and appreciated," I say solemnly. "Now, can we please get out of here before you get any more ideas?"

They laugh, but mercifully let me pay for my boring, wonderfully normal tuxedo without further incident. As we leave the shop, Austin calling dibs on driving and Hector already planning the bachelor party, I can't help but smile.

This might be chaos, but it's the best kind. The kind that comes from friends who love you, who support you, who only want the best for you.

And right now? With Mia waiting for me, our future spread out like a glittering promise?

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