Page 93 of I Could Be Yours

“Can I get something to drink? My mouth is so fucking dry. Why is my mouth so dry? Do you think I’m coming down with something?” Tristan paces the room.

“You’re just nervous.” I pass him a bottle of water.

“I want to be married.” He says this like he’s declaring war.

“I know, bro. But you can still be nervous.” I can relate. I might know that my mother won’t show up to ruin things, but it doesn’t stop the churning in my gut.

He chugs the entire bottle in four long gulps.

The attendants arrive with the suits. Hemi is with them. I assume Essie sent her over to make sure everything is as it should be. Isaac and Sam trail her like lethal bodyguards. She surveys the room. “How is everyone doing?”

“Nate thinks I’m nervous.” Tristan stops pacing and props his fists on his hips. “I need more water.”

Hemi pulls a bottle out of her purse and hands it to him. “You’ve got this, Tristan.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “I just came from the bridal suite, and your bride-to-be looks gorgeous.”

“How’s she doing?” he asks anxiously.

Hemi smiles. “She’s so excited to walk down the aisle today, and I know you’re right there with her.”

“I just want her to be my wife,” he agrees.

Hemi’s eyes are warm. “She is ready to be yours forever, just like you’re ready to be hers.”

“I’m so ready.”

“I know.” She pats his chest. “Why don’t you put your suit on?”

“Right. Yes. That’s a great idea.”

Hemi hands him the bag that says GROOM and ushers him into the changing room.

“Maybe don’t go anywhere yet,” I mutter.

“He’s a nerves circus, huh?” Hemi’s tone is all empathy.

“Yeah. I’m surprised he hasn’t paced a hole in the floor.”

Two minutes later, the door swings open. “I think there’s a problem.”

“Oh. Wow. Just…okay.” Hemi’s eyes flare. “Go Rix, I guess.”

“Those can’t be your pants.” They’re not only six inches too short, they’re also way too tight.

“According to that bag they are. But I can’t get married in these pants.” Tristan points to his crotch. “Everyone can see my whole dick. You can see the fucking ridge.”

“You’re moose knuckling hard, bro,” Brody says, unhelpfully.

I give him a look.

“Brody,” Dad chastises.

“What? It’s true.” He points to Tristan’s crotch, like it needs more attention. “He’s all dick right now.”

“It’s notthatbad,” Flip lies.

“Rix is a lucky girl,” Sam says without cracking a smile.

Flip frowns and busies himself with his phone.

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