Page 107 of The Wedding Crush

My shoulders relax.

Like my brother is in tune with my train of thoughts, he weaves Chiara into the conversation. “How’s your dance going with my sister?”

Jameson pulls in a breath, smiling with…is that pride?

“Let’s just say, we’re going to give these other fools a run for their money.” He chuckles. “Hands down, we’ve got the best song, and you know, if nothing else, we’ve got the moves.”

“It’s that good?” Dante rubs his hands down his jeans, seemingly impressed before he tosses him a sidelong glance. “So, is it safe to say you’ve let bygones be by—”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Jameson says, too quickly to go unnoticed.

Dante’s looking at him the same way I am.

We’ve always wondered if their friendship ever crossed the line. Since Jameson and Chiara were kids, they were tight. Riding-bikes, playing-in-the-winery, building-casks-with-his-dad tight. Until their freshman year in high school when his friend Lamar started dating her. Almost immediately after, Jameson cut ties.

Now, that Dante and I know how unbending love is, it’s hard not to wonder, if Jameson did harbor a crush, how difficult it must be—after putting so much distance, and women, between them—now, spending so much time with her.

Dante tilts his head. “So, you all are cool…”

“My dude, we let that shit go a long time ago. Her and Lamar are like this.” He crosses middle and index fingers. At Dante’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “Just the other day, we were doing our thing, mixing up, dancing, and talking about the other pairs, and I mentioned Avery.”

Wait.

Talk about whiplash. Where is he going with this?

My ears perk up like antennae.

“Yeah, she’s your biggest competition for sure,” Dante says.

At my side, Dylan chuckles, warning me to relax, and I’m prepared to do just that before Jameson scrubs his hand over his mouth and down the scruff of his neck with that self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“I asked if she was single, and Chiara said she’ll hook me up with her number.”That smug bastard.“She’s fine as fuck, man. I can’t wait to get my hands on—”

“Fortemani party?”

Riker is back with our stack of waivers in hand, ready to give us the same rules, safety, and personal liability spiel. But it’s useless at this point.

At least, for Jameson West and his grimy hands, if I have anything to say about it.

My jaw hardens.

Jameson glances back at me. The instant our eyes connect, my body locks up with rage. Fire blazes over my skin.

“Got your game face on, there, huh, big guy?” He huffs out a grating laugh.

He grabs a set of the blue paintball markers and slips a battle mask over his face.

At the patronizing edge to his tone, the tension in my mouth steels under my clenched teeth.

I feel my brow furrow.

I’m going to wipe the floor with him.

Anger and fury surge through my blood to the tips of my limbs, refuting all logic.

Do I have the right to feel anything?

Avery wanted to tell everyone about us. I’m the asshole who thought keeping us in this bubble would somehow shield us from judgment and opinions. I was worried about overshadowing the wedding and undermining what we’ve built so far. I made us a reactionary rebound because Carina moved on when I should’ve been following Avery’s lead.

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