Page 84 of The Player's Obsession

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you choke.”

“It’s fine. What time is it? We need to start getting ready.”

I glance at my watch. She’s right.

“Do you mind if we share the shower? It will save time, and I’d love to rub soap all over you.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy, but it’s a ruse because she can’t keep a straight face.

“I’ll warm the water,” she says, heading to the bathroom.

“Great. I need to lay out my blue suit.”

“Don’t be late,” she croaks as her voice fades in and out. Less than a minute later, I join her under the hot water. Lathering each other up with the liquid soap from the dispenser attached to the wall is fun. If we weren’t running late, I would pin her against the wall and have my way with her. Hopefully, there will be time for that later.

Like a choreographed dance, we maneuver around each other in the bathroom, getting ready and getting dressed at the same time. I manage not to blacken her eye with a wayward elbow, and she manages not to burn me with the flat iron she’s using to straighten her hair. My years of dating have taught me this is no small feat.

“How do I look?” she asks before we leave the room.

“Gorgeous, me?”

“Impeccable.”

“Great, let’s do this.”

We join other wedding guests in the elevator who also happen to be on the way to the designated banquet room.

I find Travis in the hall and can sense something is wrong.

Keeping his voice low, he tells us that the best man, Cam, can’t find Nathan.

“What do you mean? He has to be here.”

Darrel joins us and suggests that Nathan might be in a bar.

“The bars must be open. It’s noon, there’s no law against it. Is it really that bad?” Stephanie asks.

“No clue. We’ll have to see if he surfaces.”

“Maybe they’re somewhere working it out,” Penelope suggests. We all nod, hoping for the best.

When the wedding coordinator opens the doors, we follow the other guests inside and find seats together. The room is beautifully decorated in silver and Tiffany-blue balloons. White roses cover an arch at the front of the room. Tiffany-blue bows adorn the chairs along the red-carpeted aisle.

“You both look incredible in navy blue,” Rose says to us.

“Thank you,” I murmur. Penelope comments on how beautifully her dove gray dress goes with Travis’s dark gray suit.

We all laugh and agree that couples need to plan and coordinate their colors if they want to look great in pictures. There’s something about it that makes pictures pop. I’ve never been inclined to do it before, but I love how we fit together in every way imaginable.

Serena comes into the room, dressed as a bridesmaid, and makes a beeline for us. She stops at the end of our row and glares at me.

“This is your fault. You should have RSVP’d no to the invitation. Your being here made Melanie have doubts about breaking up with you. Then, you and your plus-one had to show off at karaoke. Why did you have to ruin everything? Can’t you let Melanie have the limelight for once?” Her voice is verging on hysteria. She reminds me of Chewbacca when he was pissed at Darth Vader for freezing Han Solo.

“I didn’t mean to outshine anyone. I’m part of the team, and Nathan is my teammate.”

“We had to invite you, dumbass.”

“Serena, where’s Nathan?” Travis asks.

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