Page 3 of Runaway Bride

His eyes narrow to look at it. “I have no idea.”

I should be freaking out right now. There are chunks of my memory that I can’t recall, and yet somehow, I’m not completely afraid. The warmth of Jordan's fingers wrapped around mine makes me feel—safe. Jordan has always been that person in my life that could calm me and make me feel like everything was going to be okay, even if, at that moment, it didn’t feel that way.

An older memory that I’d long since forgotten comes back to me. We were back in high school, not too long after we first met. It was the opening night of our school’s production of The Music Man. Weeks of rehearsals had finally come down to this night, but as soon as I saw the auditorium begin to fill with people, the nerves took over, and I ran.

Jordan followed after me, stopping me just outside the door that lead out of the auditorium to the parking lot. He talked me off the ledge, reminding me that he was just as scared as I was but that how sometimes fear can be an excellent motivator to step out of our comfort zones and open ourselves to something new that was right in front of us.

He held out his hand to me and promised that no matter what happened, he’d be right there with me. Always.

“What do you think?” Jordan asks, leaning down to meet my gaze.

“What?” I straighten, realizing that I missed whatever he just said.

"I think we need to backtrack our steps to try and find out what happened last night. It's clear that neither of us has answers."

I look down at the hard contours of his bare chest and feel heat pool in my lower belly.

“Yes,” I say, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves I’m feeling at his closeness. “We aren’t going to find any answers standing around here.”

Jordan studies me, and I suddenly feel so exposed, and it has nothing to do with the state of undress I'm currently in. He’s always had a way of seeing me in a way that no one else in my life ever has—even Michael. I wait for any residual feelings of guilt that I’d expect to feel for finding myself alone, half-dressed, with my fiancé’s, I mean my ex-fiancé’s brother, but it doesn’t come.

Despite the situation we’ve found ourselves in, I don’t believe anything physical happened between us. Not that Jordan isn’t handsome. One time when Jessie, one of my best friends and bridesmaid, first met him, she joked about calling dibs on him. The irrational feeling of jealously that coursed through me was enough to stop a bull in its tracks. But not wanting to stand in the way of two people I cared about finding love, I told him of her interest. I still remember the way his cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, and he shook his head no, saying that he was interested in someone else. To this day, I don’t know who he was talking about, but whoever she was, she’d be lucky to find a guy like him.

“Should I call down to the hotel store and have them bring you something new to wear?” Jordan asks, pulling out a pair of jeans from his suitcase and tugging them on.

I glance over at my crumpled dress on the floor. The last thing I need in the harsh daylight in Vegas is looking like a wrinkled mess walking around like I’m doing a walk of shame.

“Yes, please.”

He nods and picks up the hotel phone. I point over my shoulder towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to go clean up,” I tell him.

He nods again, but I don’t miss the way his gaze sweeps over me in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. My heartbeat picks up in my chest, and I know that a cold shower is just what I need to clear my mind and—wipe away this crazy idea of Jordan being something more.

JORDAN

After quickly getting ready at the hotel and some new clothes for Bridget, we take a cab over to the hospital that was listed on the hospital bracelet. My fingers nervously twist the plastic around my wrist as we sit in the waiting room for the doctor that took care of me last night.

When I woke up this morning and felt like my body had been put through a meat tenderizer, I didn’t really think that I’d been injured. My brain rationalized the pain as the likely result of a hangover and age no longer being as compatible as they once were.

Back in college, I could party all night and get up for classes the next day with minimal effects from the alcohol. But the one time I used my liver as a punching bag was the night that I found out that Michael and Bridget were together.

Michael had invited me to his fraternity house for a party. He was so proud to be carrying on the long-standing tradition of Prescott men taking the Greek route at university. I didn’t want to go because Bridget was visiting for the weekend, and I was finally going to get the guts to tell her that I loved her. But like Michael beating me out of the womb, he stole her heart first. They’d planned for the weekend to announce the news to me that they’d been dating for months and were finally ready to tell me.

To say my heart shattered when she and I arrived at the party and I watched as he scooped her up in his arms right in front of me is the understatement of a lifetime. I’d grown accustomed to playing second to Michael in many aspects of my life, but Bridget wasn’t one that I could have imagined.

That night I went on to consume my body weight in Jell-O shots and perfected the keg stand like no other in such a short amount of time. Like this morning, I don’t remember much of that night. Both Bridget and Michael had to help me back to my dorm room. I put in for a transfer to another school across the country the following Monday.

A man and a woman walk in the emergency room doors, and from the ample curve of her belly, she looks like she's ready to have a baby.

“My wife’s in labor,” he announces, an edge of panic in his voice.

Bridget and I watch as the wife calmly strokes his arm to ease his worry. He glances from the nurse sitting at the entrance desk to his wife, and I swear I can see a look of love pass between them. I want to find someone I can feel that unspoken connection with. No, not with just someone. I want that with Bridget.

“Michael’s been cheating on me,” Bridget blurts out next to me.

I turn to look at her, but her eyes are still on the loving couple.

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