Page 155 of Shade
Once we arrive in Seattle, a car picks us up at the airport and takes us north into Seattle. Shade does the photo shoot with Gnarly Productions first, meets with representatives from Honda and Fox Racing, then it’s onto the hotel where the wedding will be held.
I thought for sure Izzy would want to get married someplace other than the hotel she works for, but apparently, Mila hooked her up.
Shade and I. . . we have separate rooms. Thankfully! There’s no way I can handle sleeping in the same room with him. And get this. Shade’s not staying in the penthouse suite. Nope. Izzy and Zane have it for their wedding night. I know what you’re thinking, who’s Zane? Well, Gigantor has a name, along with what I’m convinced might be a foot-long cock.
That night, Shade goes to dinner with sponsor reps while I go out with Mila, Izzy, and Mila’s newest BFF Jacey, to celebrate Izzy getting married tomorrow, and Mila being engaged to Caleb.
While I like Jacey, I’m not excited she has my best friend’s attention now. It’s almost weird being back in Seattle, like my life here doesn’t exist anymore and my friends have moved on. Not that I expected they wouldn’t, but it makes me realize how much I’m enjoying being in Pasadena with Shade and his brothers.
The day of the wedding is when the real shit happens. And by shit, I mean shit show.
Mila outdid herself with helping Izzy plan her wedding, and I feel like a real asshole, but I can’t deny how beautiful everything looks.
Including Shade. Did you see him just walk in? If you didn’t, just look around to where all the women are now gathered.
Have you seenDirty Dancing? Who hasn’t, right? It’s a classic. Anyway, you’ve seen the part where Patrick Swayze walks into the hall at the end of the movie?
Of course you have. Again, classic.
So picture that scene in your head and look toward the entrance of the garden terrace. That’s exactly how Shade walks in wearing a suit. A motherfucking black suit with a black tie and everything. And his sunglasses. You didn’t expect anything less, did you? It’s like his security blanket he can’t let go of.
I’m half expecting him to come up to me, grab my hand, tell Izzy, “Nobody puts Scarlet in a wedding,” and then pick me up bridal style and carry me upstairs to the penthouse suite where we make love, and he impregnates me with his cocky-as-fuck, adorable blue-eyed babies.
That doesn’t happen though. He’s caught by a group of women drooling over him and asking for his autograph. He stops for them, his shoulders stiff. He doesn’t lift his shades, and I know why now. This guy these women are drooling over, he seldom exists. The real Shade, the one behind the sunglasses, he’s so much more than these women could ever imagine.
Sadly, I was one of those women. Before I knew him. I saw the hot, adrenaline-seeking badass, not the insecure, vulnerable recluse who hated what this lifestyle and the sport had done to his private life.
“You’re so hot!” one of the women old enough to be his mom purrs, tucking her arm in his.
He doesn’t seem to acknowledge the words as he rubs his hand along his stubbly jaw, his head bowed as he signs the woman’s chest.
He glances my direction, but I can’t tell if he’s looking at me, or Mila, or someone else. Familiarity relaxes his shoulders, and he turns away from the women and toward me. Suddenly, everything around me blurs, except him. It’s like a photo effect, one where the sides blur and focus on the image in the center. He is the center, brash and rebellious by nature, but in this moment, he’s none of that. There’s a wall of desolation around him.
Mila stares at him, her eyes wide. “Holy shit. You brought Shade? And he’s signing Izzy’s aunt’s tits?”
I let out a slow, even breath, and put on my best smile. I bite my lip nervously. The last thing I wanted to do today was ruin Izzy’s wedding by bringing someone famous, but fucking hell, I don’t regret it. Look at the man in a suit. Totally worth ruining your friend’s wedding. Also, I’d like to point out Zane is a professional hockey player and his best man is an actor in a hit movie. Shade isn’t even the most famous dude here, but he’s certainly the hottest. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“He pretty much told me he was coming with me and then scheduled a photo shoot to make it seem like it was for work.”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “Well, that’s okay. I’m sure Izzy doesn’t mind at all.”
I turn to face her, cupping her pretty caked-on makeup cheeks. “So. . . are you excited? In just like what, four months this will be you getting married!”
Her fake lashes flutter, and she draws in a shaky breath, smoothing out her dress. “Nervous as hell. Why does he want to marry me?”
“Because you’re Mila Wellington and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
“True. There’s that.”
I grab her hand. “Now, let’s get Izzy Bizzy married.”
THE WEDDING CEREMONY itself is like any other wedding. They said their vows. Not much to it, and Zane kisses Izzy inappropriately and grabs her ass like a fucking man to gain whistles from the entire Vancouver Canucks hockey team in attendance. Everywhere I look there are big as fuck hockey players and if I wasn’t so into the freestyle shade-wearing bastard by the bar signing autographs for all Izzy’s family, and a few hockey players, I’d probably hit one up.
But I’m so into the freestyle shade-wearing bastard I couldn’t be more into him without being a part of the ink covering his skin.
I’m not sure how it happens, but before I know it, I’m standing next to him. With our close proximity, I can’t help but smile, despite wanting to rip out that bartender’s tongue for looking at him that way.
