Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
She brings it over and I take it from her hands. “We got it, Mom. Go sit down for a second.”
A small grin hits her lips as she pats my cheek. “You’re sweet, Tripp, but even I don’t want to cross the line with Anya right now,” she whispers.
Paxton and I laugh, earning a stern look from Bridezilla herself.
“Don’t stand around, she might take that as a challenge. Go grab chairs and start putting them around the table,” Willow says under her breath as she walks past holding an armful of flowers.
I shake my head, but take her advice and grab a few chairs. Paxton, however, goes over to talk with Hartford, leaving me alone and feeling vulnerable against Bridezilla.
“Shep, help me set up these chairs,” I say, grabbing his arm as he tries to walk past.
“Is this approved by Anya? I’m not touching shit without her okay. I moved a vase before and she nearly bit my head off,” he says, glancing between me and Anya.
“Willow told me to do it,” I explain.
“Don’t pull my girl into this,” Brock says, stepping up closer to me and Shepherd.
I sigh and grab two chairs. “I’m not pulling anyone into anything. Willow instructed me to move chairs so that’s what I’m doing. If you two don’t want to help, good luck when Anya sees you standing around doing nothing.”
They both dive for more chairs, causing a loud bang, which in fact gets Anya’s attention.
“What the hell are you guys doing? If you break anything I’m going to have Griffin kick your asses,” she shouts.
The three of us laugh as we begin to place the chairs around.
“Anya, I love you, but that’s about the worst threat you could come up with. Griffin isn’t going to kick anyone’s ass. You know it and we know it. He’s too nice of a guy,” Brock says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Oh he’ll do it. Don’t test me, Brock,” Anya hisses.
“Boys, just finish up with the chairs and leave the rest to us ladies,” my mom says, giving us a wink.
“Mom, she’s the bride from hell,” Brock says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Anya didn’t overhear.
My mother laughs looking between the three of us. “You’re boys, you don’t understand the stress and pressure a bride feels trying to get everything exactly how they picture it in their minds.” She looks at Shepherd and sighs. “You went off and eloped, so you wouldn’t know how Felicity would’ve reacted.” She smiles at Brock before saying, “Don’t tease your sister because when you decide to make an honest woman out of Willow, she may very well be threatening to have you kick everyone’s ass.” We laugh as we grab more chairs, but of course she’s not finished yet as her eyes lock with mine. “And you my boy, you will understand one day when you find that special someone.” She grabs my shirt as I try to walk away and I stop short, looking back at her. “When exactly do you think that’ll be?”
Oh Christ, it’s like the pressure of a ton of rocks is pressing down on my shoulders. Today is supposed to be the day. Today is exactly when I told Millie we would tell everyone. How can I dismiss my mother’s question when in a few short hours Millie will be here expecting me to shout from on top of one of these tables, covered in white tablecloths with blue flowers and candles everywhere, that we are in love? The pressure of the simple question makes me feel like the walls are closing in on me. I’m suffocating in the fear of what is supposed to be happening.
“Tripp.” Callum’s voice booms across the room, drawing everyone’s attention. He’s standing at the door of the party room, his arms crossed, and his expression unreadable. “Take a break from the decorating. I need to talk to you in my office.”
Fuck. While I’m thrilled to be able to avoid my mother’s question, I don’t want to face what Callum has to say either. There’s no way of evading it any longer, especially with my entire family looking on.
“Let’s go,” he says, nodding for me to follow.
My stomach is in knots and twists with nerves as I nod. As I follow behind Callum, my steps feel heavier with each one I take. My hands are starting to shake, and I clench them into fists, trying to steady myself, but it doesn’t help. The nerves coursing through my body are almost unbearable. There’s no avoiding this conversation anymore, no hiding behind excuses or dodging questions.
I’ve run out of time.
As soon as we step into Callum’s office, the door clicks shut. The room is suffocatingly quiet, the air thick with unspoken words. Callum moves behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, and folds his arms across his chest, studying me for a moment before speaking. I can see the disappointment in his eyes and it hurts deeply.