Page 134 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

Otherwise … my next stop is a hotel.

He leans in the doorway, looking practically edible. If not aloof. I fidget with the handle of my rolling bag, waiting for a response.

“So, you came to me because you’re desperate,” Van says. “Was I your last option?”

I hesitate. “The second,” I admit.

“Ah.”

The truth, which I can’t quite get myself to confess to Van, is that Iwantedto come here first. He was the very first person I thought of running to when I left the Summit in tears. Not onlybecause I need someone, but because I want that person to behim.

Plus, I couldn’t stop worrying about how he was after everything that happened. I wanted to make sure he’s okay.

I convinced myself that Van wouldn’t want me to come—which so far, seems accurate—and that I was being ridiculous. Morgan, my very best friend in the world, might have been the first person I asked, but she was the second person I thought of.

Going to Morgan meant finally coming clean, and I didn’t know how she’d feel after learning what I kept from her.

As it turns out, Morgan’s reaction was amusement—which I never would have predicted. She laughed for a solid minute. I actually watched the seconds tick by on the phone while she cackled.

“You married him.Married. On a beach. On a whim! A hockey player evenIknow your dad hates. This is too good,” she said, and it sounded like she was wiping tears from her eyes. “Sogood that there’s no way you can do anything other than run into your husband’s arms. Also, I need some time to process you not telling me, your very best friend, that you gotmarried.”

So now I’m here. Feeling more alone than I ever have. More unsure. And for a conflict-averse person, there is pretty much no one in my life Idon’thave issues with right now.

Or,I think, looking at Van,who doesn’t have issues with me.

Van has still not moved. Not smiled. There is zero sign of his trademark smirk.

I take the tiniest step backward, already running through a list of hotels in my mind. My bank account will hate me, but so be it. I care less about the money and more about being alone.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” I say, dropping my gaze as I reach for my bags. “I shouldn’t have come.”

In one big step, Van is beside me, taking my bags. “Get inside, Mills. Of course you should have come.”

My throat grows tight, and my chest feels warm. I can’t manage words, but I nod.

“If you can’t crash at your husband’s place when your life falls apart, where can you go?”

His tone is teasing—which is the perfect response right now. I want to wrap him up in a hug, but I don’t know if he’d want that. He did call himself my husband, even if teasing. Feels like a tiny olive branch. Maybe a puny one with no leaves and no olives.

The moment has passed, though, and he’s already walking inside, carrying all my bags.

“Come on, slowpoke.”

I scurry after him, blinking back tears of gratitude. Well—a mix of gratitude and a whole lot of other things too.

“How did you find out where I live, you little stalker?” he calls as I close and lock the door.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not stalking you,” I say, trying to match his playful tone. If my voice is a little wobbly, he doesn’t comment on it. “Parker told me.”

The entryway isn’t open to the rest of the house, and as I step through the doorway to the living area, I immediately halt.

I didnotanticipate Van’s sisters being here.

We have not gotten off to a good start, and I can see that we aren’t off to a good middle either. At least, based on Callie’s narrowed eyes.

Grey steps forward and hugs me, though, and I’m so surprised I don’t react, which means my arms are trapped against my body. “I promise they’ll love you just as much as I do,” she says. “As long as you don’t break Robbie’s heart. Then … all bets are off.”

“Thanks?” Even with the mild threat in her words, I appreciate the physical comfort of the hug.

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