Page 77 of The Goat in the Bedroom
Before I could respond, the guys returned with arms full of nachos and drinks, and the second half started. But I couldn't focus on the game. All I could think about was Gryff sitting next to me, his arm casually draped over the back of my chair, his thumb occasionally brushing my shoulder.
The Mustangs won by ten points, and the suite erupted in celebration. Everett appeared moments after the game ended, still in his uniform and grinning like he'd won the lottery.
“Everybody get changed. We're doing a thing,” he announced. “You’re all coming. No arguments.”
“What thing?” Flynn asked suspiciously.
“You'll see.” Penelope said holding Everett’s hand. “Just trust us. See you in an hour. There will be cars outside.” Then she disappeared along with Kelsey and Declan.
Everybody got dressed and when we stepped outside, a caravan of limos was waiting outside the stadium, champagne already chilling inside.
“This seems excessive for a victory celebration,” I said as we all piled in.
“Vegas gonna Vegas,” Gryff said, but he looked as confused as I felt.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a building with a neon sign featuring a Lobster Elvis in a light-up jumpsuit declaring it the High C Wedding chapel.
“Did we just crash someone's wedding?” I whispered to Gryff.
“Not crashing if you're invited,” Penelope called out, and that's when I noticed the bouquet in her hands and the beautiful white dress she was wearing. Everett stood proudly next to her in a tux.
“Oh my god,” Jules squealed. “Are you?—“
“Yup, we are. Just us and the people who mean the most to us.” he said with a meaningful look in Penny’s eyes.
What followed was the most chaotic, joyful, ridiculous hour of my life. Elvis was Chinese and did an incredible impression while wearing a bedazzled white jumpsuit and carrying a Triton. Declan gave a best man speech that made everyone cry. Kelsey, the matron of honor, sang an acoustic version of “Can't Help Falling in Love” that had me sobbing.
During the actual vows, the couple looked at each other like there was no one else in the universe but each other. I felt Gryff's hand find mine. Our fingers interlaced, and he squeezed gently.
I didn't let go.
Not during the kiss, not during the ridiculous Elvis hip thrust dance, not during the champagne toast with sparkling cider for the very pregnant Penny. His hand in mine felt like coming home.
By two a.m., we were all exhausted and definitely too tipsy to drive home.
“Good news,” Flynn announced, looking at his phone. “I got us rooms at the hotel next door.”
“Bad news,” he continued, not looking sorry at all, “they only had honeymoon suites left. Two of them. So Jules is staying with the aunts, and Tempest and I can share one...”
Gryff and I looked at each other in panic.
“We'll take the other one,” Gryff said, his voice carefully neutral.
The honeymoon suite was... a lot. Heart-shaped bed. Red velvet everything. A mirror on the ceiling that I was definitely not looking at. Rose petals scattered on every surface. A champagne bucket with a note that said “Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Goatlightly” because apparently that was the alias Flynn had used.
“This is so excessive,” I said, staring at the bed that seemed to be the only piece of furniture in the room besides a chair shaped like a giant high heel.
“Vegas gonna Vegas,” Gryff repeated, but his voice was strained.
We stood there awkwardly, both a little drunk on champagne and wedding feelings, neither knowing what to do next.
“That was beautiful,” I said finally, sitting on the edge of the heart bed. “The wedding. Even with Elvis.”
“Especially with Elvis,” Gryff corrected, sitting next to me.
“They looked at each other like...”
“Like she was his whole world,” Gryff finished softly.
