Page 72 of The Lovers
“I don’t want to know.” We both chuckle.
Kit suggested that Zoe might know I’m starting my own agency, and a part of me is dying to ask her.
To see how she reacts.
She’s smart, probably much better at social media than me, and it’s more than plausible that she figured out why I created the second account.
Even if Zoe wanted to come with me, I wouldn’t be able to hire her right away. Even though the six-month noncompete in my contract is difficult to enforce in California, I am still planning to take that time to get all my ducks in a row. I’ve been saving for years to get to the point where I can quit, invest in the start-up, and also not go totally broke and have to move back in with my dad and stepmom.
There’s no real wedding season in LA, but winter is the slowest time of the year by far, which is why the Morgan-Hayden wedding is so important. It’s my last wedding before I give notice, but also it’s the perfect inroad to influencers and young LA talent because of Millie’s brand. When I’m up and running, this last wedding will be a great jumping-off point to gain new clients.
I look from the altar to movement at the entrance on the other side. Kit isn’t obligated to arrive until the cocktail hour. I hate to admit there’s still a part of me that worries she’s going to bail.
But there she is, eyes searching the room until they land right on me.
And all my fears fall quiet.
The sherbet sky has turned the inside of the tent into a glowing poppy-orange hue. The colorful light dancing over her soft creamy skin makes her look even more ethereal. She’s changed into a champagne pink dress that hits at the knees, coupled with a warm-toffee blazer. Her sleeves are casually rolled up to reveal a satin pink pin-striped lining that matches the color of the dress, and on her feet she’s wearing Tory Burch ballet flats. She’s got a few pieces of gold and crystal jewelry strung around her neck, dipping toward her full chest; her hair is wavy and loose, touchable.
Her eyes search the tent. God, I hope she’s searching for me.
“You may now kiss your almost bride,” Healer Arynne says, as cheers erupt from around the tent. I look back just in time to see her stifle a hiccup, her face an accordion of barely contained emotion.
Zoe steps into action, crossing behind the altar and up to Healer Arynne in a blur of tangerine, fitting her arm around the folds of her brightly colored caftan and pulling her briskly away.
Millie and Sean pass me on the river rock–covered aisle walkway; her blissful grin is all the assurance I need that this wedding will be a success.
I’m further gratified when I notice that Blythe and Evelyn are huddled together near their chairs in a joyous, tear-filled display. Blythe offers Evelyn a hanky and Evelyn lets her head drop toBlythe’s shoulder as she sobs. They approach, leaning on one another for support.
“You know, I think B was right about the dream catcher,” Evelyn says. “Can we have it removed?”
“Already on it,” I reply. I walkie over to the Love, Always staff member—Ben—who is overseeing the rehearsal dinner space right now, and tell him to nix the dream catcher above the bride and groom’s table.
I watch them walk away, relief flooding my senses, and let my eyes trail over the faces of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, catching only briefly on Piper, who is stretching her head into an awkward position that takes up my whole view. But just past her, I see Kit moving through the chairs toward me.
Her face comes into sharp focus.
Everyone else in the room drifts to the edges of my vision, blurry, just shapes.
Kit is all I see.
The pink sheen of her gloss reflects light as she smiles. A row of earrings sparkles up the ridge of her left ear. She drops her eyes down the length of my body. They drift over my curves, tripping up to my lips and then settling into my gaze. There’s no mistaking the want.
Me. Kit Larson wantsme.
Make room for play.I hear Coco’s voice in my head, her prompting that I let go. Then I see Kit standing at the entrance to her Airstream trailer, saying the same thing. They were both right; I got lost in the moment with Kit, and the whole wedding didn’t fall apart.
I don’t have to hold on so tight to make it happen.
When I look at Kit, I know every cell in my body wants to takethe advice and run with it. I want the risk that leads to a rush. The adrenaline of jumping without overthinking. When we were friends before, our friendship showed me that letting go didn’t have to mean losing. It’s why I didn’t question it when she kissed me, even though she had never told me she was into girls. It’s why I believed it would be forever. It’s why I was crushed when she ghosted.
Letting go led to loss.
The thought makes my stomach twist. The next time I fell hard was with Piper. And giving her an inch led to the biggest loss of self I’ve ever felt.
Kit and I meet at the end of the procession.
“Hey,” she says, in what is the dictionary definition ofbedroom voice.
