Page 41 of Goal Line
As we walk, my pinky brushes Eva’s hand and relief floods through me. Not touching her is physically painful. She glances at me then, and her look is almost shy—nothing like the brazen girl I’ve known my whole life. It seems like this pregnancy has undermined her self-confidence, which makes sense, I suppose, since it’s uncharted territory...much like this marriage I’ve proposed.
“So, are we doing this tonight?” I ask, leading her toward the box I can already see our parents occupying.
She gives me a decisive nod.
“You and me, Evie,” I say, letting my pinky brush against her wrist again as we walk. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Eighteen
EVA
“It’s like you found the least-cheesy wedding chapel in Vegas,” I say softly, glancing around the beautiful room. It’s draped in white satin, which fans out from the ceiling to the tops of the walls and then hangs down to the floor. In the center of the peaked ceiling is a gorgeous gold and crystal chandelier. At the front of the room is a small wooden platform with a wall of beautiful white and pink flowers behind it. It feels like we’re in a posh wedding tent.
“I didn’t think you’d want a cheesy Vegas wedding with an Elvis impersonator,” Luke says from beside me, his knuckles brushing against the back of my hand where it hangs beside my body. Electricity zips through me at his touch, but I tell myself it’s just nerves.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, and when he looks down at me, slightly alarmed, I rush on. “It’s just that claiming my baby as yours and lying to our parents...it’sa lot. Are youpositive you want to take that on? You don’t have to. Being my best friend is one thing, but raising a kid together—that’s way more than anything you signed up for as my friend.”
“Pretty sure it’sexactlywhat I signed up for when I suggested this,” he says, turning toward me and pulling me closer with a hand that lands on my hip. “There’s no world in which I’m not taking care of you in whatever way I can.”
“Luke.” His name is a whisper when it falls from my lips. This is so far above and beyond best friend responsibilities. But it’s also right in line with his tendency to take care of everyone. Someday, we’re going to delve into where that need comes from. “Maybe...I feel like maybe I’m asking too much of you in this arrangement.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.” He rests his other hand behind my neck, and everything about this moment feels like it would be the perfect first kiss.Oh shit.We’re going to have to kiss at the end of the ceremony.
We’ve been so focused on the details of this marriage, my move to Boston, and a new coach, that I didn’t spend any time thinking about the ceremony itself. Oh my god, I didn’t even get him a ring!
Is this what they mean when they talk about “pregnancy brain?”This feeling—the overwhelming number of thoughts that enter my head at once, combined with the inability to focus on one of them for any length of time—is happening a lot lately. And the forgetfulness is unreal.
“Hey,” he says, his hand squeezing the back of my neck so I’ll look up at him. “You’re freaking out right now, and I’m not sure why.”
“I...I didn’t even remember to get you a ring. Luke,” I say with a sad laugh. “What kind of a future wife am I?”
His shoulders shake with silent laughter before he says, “I took care of it. And you’re the perfect future wifefor me.”
I try not to let that statement go to my heart or my head, because I know he really means thisarrangementis perfect. I’m about to ask him again if he’s sure, when the officiant who we’d briefly met in the lobby walks through the doors.
“Oh, look at you two lovebirds!” His voice has a friendly lilt that makes me smile, even as a knot of nerves grows tighter in my stomach.
“Can hardly keep my hands off her,” Luke jokes. At least, I think he’s joking, because he drops his hands and takes a step back.
“Hey, it’s your wedding night. Youshouldn’tbe able to keep your hands off your beautiful bride. Love the green, by the way,” he says, looking me up and down. “And the matching nail polish, that’s killer.”
I laugh, relieved that he’s here to break a bit of the tension that I feel heightening between Luke and me. Or maybe it’s only heighteningwithinme, because Luke seems perfectly at ease.
What are we doing?
Luke takes one look at me and says to the officiant, “My bride’s a bit nervous. Do you think we could have one more minute together before we do this?”
The guy glances at his watch. “We have this space booked in ten-minute increments, but sure, if you don’t mind an even quicker ceremony. I’ll step out into the lobby. You just let me know when you’re ready.”
“Thanks, man,” Luke says. Once the door is shut behind him, he turns to me. “Talk to me, Evie. Are you having nervesbecause this, right now, is finally real? Or are you thinking we shouldn’t go through with it?”
Why does he seem so fucking relaxed, when I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin?
“I’m just having some big emotions about this,” I say, forcing myself to slowly exhale so I can calm my body down from the state of anxiety that’s got a stranglehold on me. “I’m afraid you’re going to regret tying yourself down to someone who’s pregnant.”
He cups my face in his hands. “I’m not worried about that in the least.”
“How can younotbe? You’re not worried that once this baby comes, it’s just going to be a stark reminder of me making a terrible decision?”
