Homecoming Love

I feel this rage boiling inside me, even though I have no idea why this bothers me so much.

Maybe because he should have been more thoughtful than to bring a date to his ex-girlfriend’s brother’s wedding?

Perhaps he doesn’t care about me enough to think I would care that he brought someone else. It’s been seven years, after all. I shouldn’t be mad or annoyed by it. But for some reason beyond my comprehension, I am.

I shake my head discreetly, trying to divert my attention back to the ceremony taking place in front of me.

My gaze meets Chad’s from across the altar, and by the way he’s looking at me, his brows slightly creased, I can tell he also spotted his friend walking in. And he also noticed my reaction. I really hope I didn’t make it too obvious. The last thing I need right now is to prove them all right. I said I’d be fine, and I intend to be exactly that.

I just need a bit of champagne to help me.

For the rest of the ceremony, I do my best not to take my eyes off the couple getting married. I can feel my palms sweating as I hold Alice’s bouquet, but I don’t dare make a move. I almost let out a sigh of relief when we’re finally allowed to walk out of the church. As soon as I’m free of my maid of honor duties, I rush toward Dad’s truck, praying that I don’t bump into anyone on the way.

I just need to get to the reception. I’m not someone who usually drowns herself in alcohol to forget a problem, but tonight I will be.

There’s no way I can get through this evening sober. Not if it means I might have to talk to Spencer and be introduced to his girlfriend. Or wife.

Oh, God!

She can’t be his wife, right? Chad would’ve mentioned it to me if his best friend—my ex-boyfriend—had gotten married. He’d have gone to the wedding himself.

Unless Spencer eloped. But that doesn’t sound like something he would do. But again, what do I know about him? I’m a completely different person now. He might be as well.

I’m overthinking it, I know. I’m cursing myself as to how easily I’m influenced by his presence. In the end, I’ve ended up doing exactly what I was afraid I’d do—freaking out about Spencer.

“Girl, it looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Poppy notes as she walks toward me. I’m leaning against Dad’s truck, waiting for them to stop greeting the guests so we can drive home for the reception.

“I kind of did, didn’t I?” I mumble in a low voice.

“I’m so sorry, girl. I know this must be really hard for you,” she says sympathetically, squeezing my arm.

“How are you doing, pony? The nerve of this guy to bring a date.” Lauren shows up, the frown on her face warming my heart. It makes me feel really good to know I have them backing me up.

“I mean, it’s been several years right? He wouldn’t expect me to be annoyed by him bringing a date to my brother’s wedding.” I’m trying to convince myself of that, but it helps to know my sister feels the same way I do.

“Whatever. He should be more considerate,” she adds with a grimace.

“I agree. But hey…” Poppy turns to face me completely, grabbing me by the shoulders and forcing me to look at her. “Tonight is about your brother and your family. Screw Spencer and his Gigi Hadid-wannabe girlfriend. We’re going to celebrate and drink our faces off.”

I chuckle, grateful for them. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to me that you're all so supportive and not thinking I’m being a bitch about this.”

“Are you kidding?” Lauren widens her eyes at me as if everything I’ve just said is utter nonsense. “You’re not being a bitch about anything, and you’re entitled to feel the way you’re feeling.”

Lauren can be so mature sometimes it astonishes me. She’s always been the goofy, social butterfly in the family—alongside Chad—but it still impresses me when she has these moments of wisdom and maturity. I should be the one being mature about it all, but well, I guess I’m not.

Mom and Dad finally appear, and we get to the party before Ryan and Alice finish taking photos outside of the church. Needless to say, the first thing I do when I walk inside is grab a glass of champagne. The ranch is starting to get filled with people quickly, so I try my best to keep myself occupied, greeting family members I haven’t seen in ages and engaging in conversation with some old friends.

Either it’s the champagne or the atmosphere around me, but I manage to relax and enjoy the party. The music also helps a lot, and I dance until my feet start to hurt. At this point, I’m already drunk. Not out of my mind, or unable to stand upright, but slightly happy and giddy.

“I think I need to pee,” I say to no one in particular since the music is really loud and Lauren, Poppy, and a few of my cousins aren’t really paying attention to me.

“What?” Lauren asks, not looking at me but tilting her head to the side so she is nearer.

“I am going to the bathroom!” I yell close to her ear.

“All right, do you need me to go with you?” She turns to face me, her brows raised while she waits for my answer.

I shake my head, dismissing her with my hands. “Of course not. I’ll be right back.”

Lauren nods, returning her attention to the waiter passing by with a tray filled with glasses of champagne. I ponder grabbing another one, but my bladder is hurting at this point, so I turn on my heel, heading to the closest bathroom.

Thankfully, it’s unoccupied. By the time I leave and stop in front of the sink to wash my hands, I’m a bit surprised at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a little sweaty and messy, not to mention that the hairstyle I put together for the ceremony is far gone by now. My makeup was worth every penny because it’s still intact. But for some reason I can’t point out—maybe it’s something in my eyes that looks a bit glassy and distant—I look like shit.

I shake my head, slapping my cheeks lightly to shove some sense of reality back into my brain. I would try washing my face with cold water, but that’d ruin my makeup for good, and I’m not ready to go to bed yet. So, after straightening my dress, fixing my hair, and applying some lipstick, I feel ready to return to the party.

But when I decide to take a shortcut through the back door into the kitchen, I encounter the only person I have been avoiding the entire night.

Spencer Bailey.