“You look stunning,” Barrett tells me, dropping a light kiss to my head as the photographer snaps away. “Doesn’t she, Wyatt?”

  My brother shrugs, unbothered by the question. Wyatt has always been the shy, quiet one.

  “Any promise with that groomsman you walked down the aisle with?” Nyles asks out of the corner of his mouth, still smiling for the camera.

  “None whatsoever.”

  Nyles pouts. “How boring. I love a wedding meet cute.”

  The reception begins with a formal dinner. I’m seated at the front of the ballroom with the rest of the wedding party, sandwiched between Gabriella and Hugh, who for the better part of the meal lean in front of or behind me so they can continue their conversation with each other. I offer to switch places with Gabriella more than once. Hugh too, but they don’t budge. Either they don’t want to make me feel bad or they don’t want to seem too interested. It’s such a waste of time. The two of them are made for each other. Right now, they’re dissecting the plot points and directorial style of a particular Mandalorian episode while I pick at my chicken. I can’t see Hudson from where I sit. Or rather, I can if I lean heavily to the left and practically drape myself on Gabriella’s shoulder. I tell myself it serves me right. I shouldn’t be so focused on him. There are speeches to pay attention to, good company to enjoy, Star Wars cinematography choices to discuss.

  I’m unable to fully be present in any of it. When the final course is winding down, Hannah and her dad take to the dance floor for their father-daughter dance. I couldn’t tell you the song choice or how long they’re out there. I didn’t even realize Conrad and my mom had taken their places. I blink and realize everyone has stood from their tables to join the bride and groom on the dance floor at the DJ’s urging.

  I’m not drunk. I have no real excuse to feel the way I do. I keep waiting for the effects of the wedding ceremony to wear off, like a drug with a three-hour life span. I should be able to shake this, but I can’t. The profound newness of my current state doesn’t feel quite real.

  The song to wake me up out of my trance is “Take a Chance on Me” by ABBA, for two reasons. Firstly, it’s an irresistible bop no matter what anybody says, and secondly, it’s the first time I’m really able to clearly spot Hudson since the start of the reception. He’s standing just to the left of the dance floor talking to Lucy and my mom. His hands are tucked into his pockets. He’s bent over slightly toward them so they don’t have to raise their voices quite so loud. I watch my mom ask him something, and he smiles and shakes his head, and I love him.

  This is not a profound thought. It’s not revolutionary or shocking. It’s Saturday; I’m at a wedding; no, thank you, I don’t want any more wine at the moment; and I love Hudson Rhodes.

  I don’t get up, don’t move from my seat. I’m the only person from the wedding party still at the banquet table at the front of the ballroom, and one of my aunts sees my dopey smile and my little laugh and she gives me a pitying look on her way to the bathroom. She doesn’t realize what’s going on here. She doesn’t know I’m newly in love.

  Oh my god.

  My brothers don’t let me get away with being a wallflower for long. Barrett and Nyles come find me during “Lay All Your Love on Me”. Side note: I think Hannah and Conrad might have requested the DJ play ABBA and only ABBA for the entirety of this reception. Which, that’s amazing, but also bold.

  “This song,” Nyles says indignantly. “This song, Scarlett. Get up. You have to get up and dance. I feel like I’m in college again, studying abroad in Greece, dancing on tables, wishing your brother would email me back.”

  Barrett laughs. “I don’t remember stringing you along.”

  “Are you kidding? You were the worst. The. Worst.”

  They have me by the hands now, dragging me behind them as they reminisce about the start of their relationship and how it really went down.

  Everyone is losing their minds over this song, bouncing and singing at the top of their lungs, and I find Hudson sitting over at a table by himself. He’s hunched over, his hands clasped between his knees. His brow is furrowed and his lips are pursed as he worries about something.

  Dancers move around me, and I have to crane my neck to keep my view of him. I just get him in frame again when Nyles takes my hands and starts to spin me around.

  I laugh and placate him, shimmying along with everyone else. It’s become clear that they are not going to let me off the hook with this song, and it’s easier to just give them what they want. But I still take any opportunity I can to look back at Hudson. I arch up on my toes in time to see him shoot to his feet and take two determined steps toward the dance floor then shake his head, turn on a dime, and head out the side door.

  “Let’s do a conga line!” someone shouts.

  There are audible protests.

  “Already?”

  “It’s never too early!”

  Conga lines are to weddings as the “Cha Cha Slide” is to middle school dances. You’re simply not getting out of it. My shoulders are grabbed. I’m thrust forward and then Barrett and Nyles join in behind me.

  “I never can resist a conga,” my brother comments.

  “There is something so kitsch about them. I love it. Scarlett, you’re supposed to be kicking your feet out to the side,” Nyles admonishes, seemingly embarrassed by my lack of conga skills.

  I’m ignoring them, looking at the door, hoping Hudson’s going to reappear any minute.

  Surely he didn’t leave. They haven’t cut the cake. The night’s barely half over. We haven’t even YMCA’d.

  I break off from the conga line and head for the side door before I can fully register what I’m doing or what I’ll say once I bump into Hudson. “Are you okay?” seems too serious, too invasive. It conveys the fact that I’ve been watching him all night, that I know something is wrong, but what else am I left with?

  I push through the side door and let it bang shut behind me. The music stays in the ballroom. Out here, it’s almost deafeningly quiet. To the right, the hallway dead-ends. To the left, I loop back around and find the entrance to the ballroom. There are more guests out here than I’d planned for. I have to endure a five-minute catch-up with two of my cousins, then another forced conversation with a few of my mom’s friends. “I could just pinch your cheeks! Where are you working now? Oh, look at you go! I’m so impressed!”

  Hudson isn’t out here. Just to be sure, I walk the length of the hall again, all the way from one end to the other.

  A waiter from the wedding sees me and asks if I need help.

  “Have you seen a guy out here?” I ask. “Black suit, black tie, pretty tall, brown hair.”

  He shakes his head. “No. Sorry.”

  I can only muster a dejected smile. “Right. Thanks anyway.”

  Left with no other options, I’m forced to turn back toward the ballroom. I don’t want to feel like this, shoulders slumped, completely heartbroken over the idea that Hudson might have left the wedding without even talking to me.

  Have we stooped so far from where we once were as friends?

  I almost turn an about-face and head up to my hotel room. Face-planting onto my bed sounds like a welcome alternative to putting on a bright smile and reentering the fray, but I’d regret not being here for Hannah and Conrad, my parents, everyone.

  I make it back to the reception in time to see Hannah belting out Beyoncé lyrics, and I almost succeed in forgetting all about Hudson. Beyoncé’s powerful in that way. I can’t just mope in a corner, so I dance myself back into happiness. My parents join me, along with Nyles and Barrett. Even Conrad gets out on the dance floor, though Wyatt continues to refuse. “No one dances like this in London” is his excuse. As if fun doesn’t exist in that part of the world.

  “Oh my god, you can dance! Stop being so stubborn and get out here.” I take his hands and start to drag him toward the DJ.

  He puts up a good fight. “I mean it, Scarlett. I’m horrible.”

  “So am I!” I insist.

  In hindsight, I should have believed him. Poor Wyatt is as bad as he promised he would be, and I can’t contain the laugh that bursts out of me once he starts to pair a side-to-side shuffle with a limp-armed shimmy. I throw a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Barrett asks, coming up behind Wyatt.

  “I’m dancing!” Wyatt says, tossing his arms up before walking off the dance floor entirely. “Screw you guys. I’m going to the bar.”

  “Get me a Jack and Coke, will you?” Barrett calls.

  “Get it yourself!” Wyatt calls back.

  Barrett shoots me a wink and then trails after our brother, leaving me on my own on the dance floor. Not for long, though. All the bridesmaids are out here and a Rihanna song is starting up just in time. I’m almost out of breath by the time it’s over—we all are. The DJ recognizes that it’s time to transition to something slow, and here we go again with ABBA. It’s “The Winner Takes It All” and everyone immediately knows the drill. Pair up or scram, losers.

  Jordy and Gabriella jokingly start to spin around me, dramatic and slow. Then, before I know it, I’m added to their circle. Those iconic crooning vocals pick up as we clutch hands. We spin fast enough that the room starts to blur, the crowd blends together, and even still, I catch the shift—the approaching black suit.

  I gasp and break off from Jordy and Gabriella, a little off balance, my vision still swirling until all at once, Hudson cuts into view. I straighten myself and face him as he takes the last few steps toward me.

  Jordy bumps my shoulder as she comes to a stop and curses under her breath. “Shit. He’s hot.”

  Gabriella inhales sharply and leans in. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  I ignore her question and stare at Hudson while my heart beats out of my chest. There’s so much on the line—a heart suspended. I love him, and that realization has hit me like a freight train. From this point on, if he only wants friendship, it’ll feel like death. We look at each other as I hold my breath.

  Then he holds out his hand for me, palm up. “Dance with me.”

  Like a besotted fool, I can only nod.

  It occurs to me that I should warn him that people are going to see us, but he already knows that and he’s still here. So I swallow my nerves and let him lead me deeper into the crowd, right to the dead center of the dance floor where the bodies are dense enough that we disappear among them.

  He turns and faces me again, and I’m unsure of what to do, where to touch. He’s never seemed so tall, so intimidating as he does now. I stare at his chest as he steps forward and takes my hips, and instead of awkwardness, there’s recognition and possession, a smooth claiming. He doesn’t sound polite when he orders me to put my hands on his shoulders. I do it so gently I can barely feel the smooth material of his black suit jacket, the suit jacket I’ve been eyeing all night. He looks devastating in it. Devastating, always. The most handsome, kind man. Kind. I smile at the floor thinking of telling him that. He’d snarl at me.

  When I work up the courage to look up again, I realize he’s studying me. His dark eyes start at my feet and travel up in the span of a slow, intoxicating breath. When our eyes meet, awareness settles over me. I somehow sense everything he’s not saying. I’m drowning in the sincerity of his silent compliment.

  He tightens his fingers at my hips, gathering the material so it’s easier for him to bring me closer. We’re listening to ABBA croon away, and it shouldn’t be so good, this 1980s song, but it just says it all.

  I open my mouth to ask him a million questions. Why have you seemed so sad tonight? Why did you leave a moment ago? Why did you wait so long to find me?

  Nothing makes it out though. I feel paralyzed by the realization I had during the wedding. This feeling, choking me up, it’s the stuff of fairy tales, and I’ve been completely closed off to it, immune, or so I thought.

  Scared, I look away. Then before I can think of the consequences, I lay my cheek against Hudson’s chest. He stiffens, and a beat later, he drops his chin to my head. We’re totally wrapped around one another. We barely move, swaying side to side, slower than the beat. It’s my favorite part of the entire night. My favorite moment…ever.

  I close my eyes and embrace it.

  Everything will come after this song, the unknown consequences. But for now, we hang suspended in the simplicity of holding each other. All I feel is Hudson’s broad chest, his arms wrapped around me confidently. I can’t think of who’s seeing us, of what they’re thinking. What is there to say but the truth?

  I love him.

  It’s a moment I’ll never forget. A moment though—that’s the painful part, knowing I’m only in his arms for the length of this song.

  It’s over before I realize. People are starting to shift apart, talk and laugh, and prepare themselves for a new song. No one is holding on to each other like we are, resisting the end. Hudson’s the one who steps away first, fissuring my heart in the process.

  He looks so pained when he looks down at me. “Scarlett—”

  “Ladies and gents, I’d like to direct you to the table on the left over here. Our bride and groom are ready to cut the cake! Oh—careful with that icing!”

  The crowd surges around me. “Scarlett, come on,” Nyles says. “If Hannah’s about to shove cake in Conrad’s face, I want a front-row view.”

  Nyles has my hand and he’s tugging me, not realizing I’m looking back at Hudson, willing him to ask me to stop.

  Hudson just stands there.

  His feet rooted to the floor.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hudson

  Everything is happening right now.

  Life rushes past me and I can stay where I am, feet glued in place or—

  “Scarlett, wait.”

  She stops and shifts out of her brother-in-law’s grasp. Nyles looks back at Scarlett, then sees me. His brows shoot up in understanding and he leaves her there, following the crowd to where Conrad and Hannah are getting ready to cut their cake.

  Scarlett and I have been left all alone in the center of the dance floor. It’s not my location of choice. I could ask her if she’d like to come talk to me somewhere else, somewhere more private, but then I run the risk of a million things getting in our way.

  She doesn’t realize what I’ve already had to go through to get here. For the better part of two weeks, I’ve tried to reconcile my feelings and build the courage to actually act on them. Tonight is the night, though I couldn’t have picked a worse occasion. Scarlett is part of the wedding; she has a role to play, a place to occupy. This is the first time I’ve had her completely to myself all evening.

  A moment ago, I was panicked that the opportunity to talk to her had passed me by. I almost took the coward’s way out. I dipped out of the ballroom to get some air, to continue the back-and-forth argument in my head. It wasn’t an argument over how I feel about Scarlett; that’s set in stone. It’s everything else that’s the issue.

  I came back from outside to find Scarlett’s parents talking with Lucy near the ballroom doors. I didn’t even pause, didn’t think.

  “Have you seen Scarlett?” I asked the group.

  Katherine frowned and shook her head. “I thought she was on the dance floor a moment ago.”

  Anders looked over his shoulder, searching for his daughter. “Is it something for work?” he asked. “I could—”

  I turned to him, stared him boldly in the eye, and tossed away my future at Elwood Hoyt, not with a gentle remark but with a bold finality. “No. It’s not work-related. Sir—Mr. Elwood. I’m in love with your daughter.”

  Katherine gasped.

  Lucy laughed with delight.

  Anders just smiled, no shock evident at all.

  Then he nodded approvingly. “Okay then.”

  Okay then!?

  I forged ahead. “I understand this is a bit unorthodox and it’s nothing that I planned—”

  Anders held up his hand. “This is partly my fault.”

  Katherine gaped at her husband. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “I did this,” he said, straightening his bowtie with a smug smile.

  “You what?” Suddenly I sounded angry.

  “Oh relax. I didn’t do anything nefarious. I played Cupid, put you two in each other’s path. It was my hope that you would come to care for each other. I love my daughter more than…well more than most everything on earth, and I wasn’t going to let her end up with a man like Jasper.” He shuddered at the thought.

  “Why would you want her to be with me?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

  Anders looked at me with an expression made of pity and maybe even a little humor. “I can’t think of a better man for her.”

  Katherine clutched her chest. “I can’t believe this. I really cannot believe this.” Then to me, “Does Scarlett know!?”

  I stiffened. “Not yet. No.”

  “Well what the hell are you waiting for?” Anders asked me. “Why are you standing around talking to us?”

  And so I went to find Scarlett on the dance floor. I wrapped her up in my arms and held her one more time before everything changed for better or worse.

  Now, she looks at me expectantly, worry eclipsing every other feeling.

  “I need to speak with you,” I tell her.

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Now. Yesterday. Last week. Last month. But not tomorrow. It’s now or never.”

  She swallows and nods. “Okay.”

  “If I don’t…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ll make a scene, cry by the wedding cake or something.”

  “Hudson. You’ll cry?”

  “I—I don’t know what this is supposed to feel like, but it’s kind of horrible.” I sound desperate. “I could throw up.”

  Concern mars her delicate features. She rushes toward me. “Did you eat something weird?”

  “No! I’m in love! I thought that was perfectly obvious.”