Page 4 of Walkoff Wedding

“This might be the most painful way I’ve ever met a pretty girl, but I’ll take it.” His voice is deep and raspy in a way that makes the colony of butterflies in my stomach intensify with each syllable he utters. When I don’t immediately respond, his grin widens into a blinding smile, and the dimples in his cheeks pop. He extends his hand toward me. “I’m Grant.”

I glance down at his hand for a beat before slowly sliding my palm into his, shaking it. “Addie… And I’m so sorry that I almost killed you. Seriously, so sorry. Also, um, you have… something in your hair.”

Reaching up, he drags a hand over his hair and plucks out the leaves before chuckling. “Thanks. I’ll forgive you, Addie. On one condition.”

“Okay, and what condition is that?” I say, arching my eyebrow in question. “I obviously can’t leave here without your forgiveness. Almost killing someone is a very serious offense, so forgiveness is the very least I could hope for.”

The deep blue of his eyes sparkles with amusement. “Agreed. So, yeah, I’m gonna need you to stay out here with me and save me from going back in there. If I have to go back into that party, I might really kick the bucket.”

When my palm begins to feel clammy, I realize that it’s still clasped in his. I tug it free and reach up to tuck my hair behind my ear. A nervous habit.

The pit of my stomach currently feels like there’s a marching band inside of it, a steady flurry that makes my head feel light at the idea that this ridiculously hot guy wants me to stay here and keep him company.

This is turning out to be the most bizarre, possibly most interesting night of my life.

Even though I was looking for a way to escape, alone, I’m too curious to turn him down, so I drag my gaze to his with feigned confidence. “Okay. I accept your condition. And I’m sorry… again. I feel absolutely terrible. Are you sure you’re okay?”

My eyes roam over his handsome face, pausing along his high, angular cheekbones down to the sharpest jawline, one that could rival that of a sculpture sitting in a museum somewhere, to his pillowy lips that make me wonder if they are as soft as they look.

A wave of embarrassment rushes through me when I realize that I’ve been openly staring, and I quickly avert my gaze to the grass beneath me.

If he realizes that I’ve been checking him out, he doesn’t call attention to it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Don’t feel bad. I should’ve paid attention to my surroundings instead of almost whipping my di—” He pauses, catching himself. “Sorry. I should’ve been paying attention, but really, I’m good. I do have one question though.”

“Okay…” I trail off, waiting for him to ask the question as I move to sit crisscross on the grass next to him, smoothing my skirt over my knees and pulling my thick, yellow knitted cardigan tighter around me. Even though it’s still August, there’s an unusual chill in the air.

He plucks a blade of grass between his fingers as he speaks. “Why are you out here?”

The million-dollar question.

“That’s… complicated.”

It isn’t really, but I also don’t want to admit to him that I’m only here because I’ve got approximately zero friends and that Amos had to stage a mini intervention to get me out of my room. Or that part of the reason that I’m here in the first place is somewhat of a last hoorah before my life changes… drastically.

In a way that I have absolutely no control over unless, somehow, a miracle happens.

His brow arches. “Is it really though?”

Laughing, I shrug, my eyes sliding to his. “I made a promise that I’d attend tonight’s party, but… not that I would participate in said party. It’s just… I’m not really a party girl? Or a people person, really. And truthfully? There’s an overpowering stench of sweaty socks and cheap liquor inside that I couldn’t handle for a second longer.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” The deep rumble of his laugh settles around us. “How about another truth?”

Hiding my smile, I chew on the corner of my lip and nod. “Sure. But only if you give me one first. Why did you need saving?”

Grant lifts his hand and rakes his fingers through his hair, a sliver of hesitation ghosting over his face before his easygoing smirk replaces it. “I think I’m just… tired. I spend so much time feeling like I’m playing a part in someone else’s life. You ever feel like you could just walk away from it all and not miss it even for a minute?”

“Yeah, I do.” More than he probably could even imagine.

“Anyway, I just needed to get out of there. Get some air. You know… possibly be offed by a gorgeous girl wearing Mary Janes and a cardigan in the middle of August.”

That has my gaze whipping to his and my cheeks catching fire.

He winks when he catches my furious blush under the pale moonlight. He’s so effortlessly charming that it should be a crime. While my stomach is doing somersaults, he’s the epitome of calm and collected. Which is slightly funny, seeing as how he just fell face-first into a bush.

“It’s… unusually chilly tonight,” I respond in defense.

“Oh? Should we go inside, then?”

---