After a few more songs, the bride and groom join us. “We’re heading out,” Harper says, a look in her eyes when she glances at her husband I don’t want to think about.
Freedom throws her arms around her best friend’s neck and squeezes tight. The both whisper-yell over the music, my sister’s face blushing. Yeah, I definitely don’t want to know what they’re saying.
Instead, I turn my attention to my new brother-in-law. I hold out my hand, which he takes easily, his smile full of everything I’d ever hope for my sister. You know, considering I wasn’t too sure about Latham Douglas in the beginning, I’m pretty pleased they’re together now. He adores her, makes her happier than I’ve ever seen her before. As long as he keeps treating her right, he’ll always have an ally in me.
“Be good to her,” I feel the need to say, even though I know he will. Call it that big brother instinct. Some things just need to be said, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve said almost the exact same words. In fact, Rhenn has heard them too.
He grips my hand firmly and keeps his eyes locked on mine. “I will.” He glances at his new wife, his eyes softening as he says, “She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
They hug the rest of the family before making their way toward the exit. Rhenn and Marissa aren’t too far behind them, the looks on their faces saying way more than I care to know too. I’m happy my sisters are so happy, but that doesn’t mean I ever want to think about the other part of their relationships.
Mom and the Douglases head out next, with Jensen and Kathryn hot on their heels. “We’re going to call it a night too,” my brother says, his hand wrapped around his fiancée’s. Their wedding will be next, followed quickly by Rhenn and Marissa. Then, I’ll be the last single man standing.
But, I’m not really single.
Though, I should be because I didn’t do it right.
Freedom looks up at me, her eyes shining with something bright. “Wanna get out of here?”
No.
Yes.
“Sure,” I finally reply. Clubs definitely aren’t my thing, and the longer I’m here, the more I want to pull her back onto the dance floor and wrap my body around hers. Plus, it won’t be long before I need to use the restroom, and there’s no way in hell I’ll be using a public club restroom. I’ll give myself hives just thinking about it.
As we head to the exit, Freedom slips her warm hand in mine. The contact sends zaps of electricity through my limbs and my feet stumble slightly. I’m able to right myself before falling just as the cooler air hits me. The sidewalks are packed, and soon we’re swallowed up by the masses. I don’t ask where we’re going, just keep her hand in my own and follow. That should be telling in itself, the fact I’m willingly going wherever she’s leading without so much as a glance back.
We’re both silent, walking for several blocks before we find ourselves in front of the famous Bellagio fountain. The water show is just starting and we push our way through the crowd to get closer. The whole time I try not to think about the number of individuals touching me. I keep my head down and my hand locked on hers so we don’t get separated.
She stops a few rows back from handrailing and we watch the show. Freedom is quite a bit shorter than I am, but there’s something about the way she seems to fit against me. Her head hits just below my chin, and her warmth presses against my body as she leans back against me. It’s under the guise of letting another couple pass by, but after they pass, she doesn’t move. She leans back against my chest and watches the show as “Luck Be A Lady” plays from the speakers.
While my heart pounds like a jackhammer in my chest.
I’m certain she can feel it. I’m sure everyone in the vicinity can hear it, but everyone keeps their eyes on the famous fountain, their phones poised up in the air to capture the show. Several couples turn and take selfies in front of the water, and for the first time in my entire adult life, I think I understand the fascination with them. Suddenly, I have a strong desire to take my own phone from my pocket and taking a photograph of Freedom and myself. I want to capture the look on her face as she gazes up at the lights and water in enthrallment and wonder.
When the song ends, the fountains return to their regular display and the crowd starts to disperse. Freedom and I stand there and continue to watch. We watch the people and how they interact with each other, the families buzzing off the bright lights and sugar, the couples stealing kisses and share private moments, even when surrounded by hundreds of people. We stand there and watch, feeling as calm and collected as I ever have, all things considered.
“I’ve always wanted to come to Vegas,” she finally says, breaking our silence.
“Really?” I ask, though it really doesn’t surprise me much. Freedom is more of a people person and can make friends about anywhere she goes. I’m the homebody who avoids crowds at all costs.
She nods her head against my chest. “I never left the compound when I was little, but one of the older girls told me she once went to Las Vegas with her dad. She
