so she could get on, as if she was a cranky child being dragged to a place she didn’t want to go.
The more I thought about it, the happier I was to have agreed to do this because it certainly displeased Katy. Pissing Katy off would end this weekend on a high note.
When the doors opened on the lobby floor, the girls piled out before I did. Katy immediately looked around the lobby, a smile taking over her face. But then Lauren whooped and called out, “Hi Liam!” and Katy’s face fell.
“You didn’t change your mind,” I said as I approached him. He’d changed from his blue long sleeve shirt into a white shirt and a fitted gray dress jacket.
“Wow,” he said, taking me in.
I was never shy. But the way he looked at me in the party dress that would also serve as my wedding dress, I felt shy.
“You look handsome.” I put my hands on his shoulders and brushed invisible dust off of them. “Very nice.”
“Wow,” he repeated.
“Yeah,” Lauren said, coming up to us and putting her arms over our shoulders like she knew Liam just as well as she knew me. “You’re a lucky bastard.”
“Don’t I know it.” He smiled at Lauren before turning that devastatingly handsome smile my direction. I could not let my knees quake when he looked at me like that. I must remain stable, assured. “Are you ready to do this?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, and he led us out to a waiting cab.
The chapel he’d chosen was busy, so busy that I was surprised he’d managed to squeeze a reservation in. When I asked him, he told me that someone had canceled—gotten cold feet—giving us a small window of which to squeeze in our ceremony.
“It’s a quick ceremony,” he explained as we waited at the desk. “They’ll take photos that we can buy if we want and then we’re done.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter, taking in the photos of all the famous people who’d gotten married at this chapel in years past. It was so surreal knowing that in about fifteen minutes, we would be exchanging vows where celebrities had decades earlier.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Liam ripped a strip of paper from the phone book on the counter and began to fold it intricately. He looked so intent on his task that I couldn’t help but stare as he folded the paper, unfolded it and made new folds. He picked up a pen from the counter and pushed the flat end of it into a pocket he’d created. I had no idea what he was doing until he held his hand out and gestured for mine in return.
Eyeing him, I watched as he placed the folded-up paper on my ring finger. He flipped so that my palm was up and then he attached the ring, gently inserting one strip inside of another before turning my hand back over. The pocket he’d pressed with his pen resembled a diamond. He’d made me a paper ring.
I stared at it, marveling over the small gesture that suddenly felt very, very big. And romantic. I was not used to romance.
“Are you nervous?” he asked when I’d said nothing.
“Oh, are you nervous?” Lauren echoed, butting in on a moment that felt private and sacred though this situation was neither of those things.
“No, I’m not,” I said automatically as my stomach dipped. Was I nervous? I didn’t get nervous. This wasn’t real. There was nothing to be nervous about. But I stared down at that paper symbol of traditional commitment and felt sweat break out at the nape of my neck. “I’m not nervous,” I said again, as if I could convince myself.
With a slight smile toward Lauren, Liam wrapped his arm around my shoulders and steered me away from her, Bekka, and Katy. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, his lips at my ear. It sent a shiver down my spine. “We can walk away right now.”
I turned so that I could look him right in the eyes. “I’m nervous,” I told him in a moment of pure honesty.
“Okay.” His eyes softened, and he dipped his head so that our foreheads touched. “Want to peace the hell out of here and go get some burgers? Laugh this off?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not nervous because I don’t want to do this,” I said. “I’m nervous because I do. And I know it’s fake.” I flicked