Page 12 of In It to Win It

“Yes.” Her eyes glow. “Lacey and Théo are so happy, and I’m happy for them. There was a point when I didn’t know if things were going to work out for them.”

“I know. But thanks to me, Théo got his head out of his ass.”

Her lips curve. “Thanks to you, huh?”

I grin. “Yep. That’s what brothers are for.”

“Okay.”

“You seemed tense earlier. Were you nervous?”

A little notch appears between her eyebrows. “Nervous? No.”

“That’s good.” I hesitate. “I was worried it was because of me. That you were regretting last night.”

Her eyes soften. For a moment she doesn’t reply. “Not because of you. Last night was amazing.”

“It was, wasn’t it.” I twirl her and she laughs.

“I liked your speech.” She tips her head. “Very funny. I didn’t know hockey players could be so . . .”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Go ahead. Say it. You think hockey players are big, dumb jocks.”

“No!” She shakes her head vigorously. “You were very comfortable up there in front of a crowd, that’s all. You even have good comedic timing.”

“Huh. Okay. Well, I don’t mind making a fool of myself in public, it’s true. Théo and I are different that way.” I pause. “We’re different in a lot of ways.”

Story of my life. The older brother everyone worshiped . . . super smart, athletic, nice guy. Then there was me . . . Okay, I’m athletic too, but not a brainiac like Théo, and since I was always in trouble, some people didn’t like me very much. Teachers. Coaches. Other parents. Sometimes I even wondered about my own parents.

“Yes, you are,” she agrees. But she says it in a way that tells she likes the way we’re different.

TAYLOR

The music changes, and now the DJ is moving the party along with a peppy Calvin Harris dance song. JP and I move apart but continue dancing together, laughing as we bust out some moves to impress each other.

He noticed I was tense.

It wasn’t because of him.

It was because of Manny. Manny, the guy I’d been seeing who got traded to Nashville a couple of months ago and ghosted on me. Sure, we hadn’t gone out that long, but I was falling for him, thinking I’d finally found a great guy, unlike my numerous dating disasters, and then he barely even said goodbye to me and took off to find a new place to live.

I haven’t seen him since, until today when I walked down the aisle and saw him sitting with the other guests. Asshole.

I don’t have a date for the wedding, but it appears neither does he. I’m determined to show him I’m over him. I don’t care that he’s here; I’m just celebrating my friends’ marriage and having fun. And JP is here, dancing with me, flirting with me, and it’s perfect for showing Manny I’m fine.

We dance another fast song; then, breathless, JP slides his arm around my waist. “Let’s grab a drink and go outside to cool off.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We make our way across the dance floor, JP behind me with his hands on my waist like he doesn’t want me to get away from him, both of us moving to the music as we walk. People are looking at us—okay, it’s the women who are looking at us, no doubt wishing they were the one with JP Wynn’s hands on their waist. I’ve seen the flirty smiles and breathy comments many of the female guests have bestowed upon him today. But he’s with me.

He leads me to the bar, where I request a glass of wine and he gets a beer. Then he takes my hand and we walk out of the ballroom and onto the terrace. There are a few other people out here, and we head for a quiet corner and sit on a small wicker couch. The music from the ballroom is muted, the breeze off the Pacific Ocean soft and pleasantly cooling, the fronds of the potted palms around us swaying gently.

“Beautiful evening.”

“It is. You’re beautiful too.”

I smile at him. “Thank you.”

---