Around midnight we head back to the room. I’m buzzed and looking forward to some easy loving: boob sex and a couple soft orgasms with my tongue for Violet. Except my room is empty of Violet and almost all of her things. For a few harrowing moments I panic, thinking she’s changed her mind. Then I see the note on the bed.

Apparently I’m not going to see her until we get to the church tomorrow.

-&-

In the middle of the night I’m woken by the sound of my door opening. I haven’t been able to sleep all that well—too excited and nervous, I guess.

“Alex?”

“Baby?” I can make out her shadowy form, but it’s dark in the room. “What are you doing in here? I thought I wasn’t going to see you until the wedding.”

She feels her way closer, her hand coming to rest on my sheet-covered ankle. “I couldn’t sleep.” A low thud follows, and Violet hisses.

I sit up and reach for her, pulling her closer. She’s wearing a robe—satin, not terry. She drops down on the edge of the bed, and I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe a little. I wrote my vows. I think I’ll have to hold cue cards.”

I smile in the darkness. “No one will care.”

“You’ll have yours memorized.”

“I can hold a piece of paper if it’ll make you feel better.”

She runs her hand over my chest, pushing the covers down. “Okay.”

“You want to lie down with me for a while?”

I see her head move in the darkness, but instead of answering she climbs over my body and pushes her way through the sheets to lie next to me. “I know it’s silly, but I didn’t want to sleep without you tonight.”

I slide my arm under her head and hold her close. “You’re going to be my wife in less than twelve hours.”

She presses her nose against my neck and kisses my collarbone. “I know. I can’t wait.”

“Should I set an alarm?” I’m already settling into her warmth.

“I’ll just stay here for a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

She puts her hand on my chest, over my heart. I lace my fingers through hers and close my eyes again.

-&-

The door to the room bursts open, shocking me awake. “I can’t find—” Skye’s shoulders drop. “Oh, thank God.”

Violet lifts her head and blinks groggily. She’s been drooling on my chest, and her face and hair are damp from falling asleep on me.

“’S goin’ on?” She swipes her hand across her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how much you scared all of us?” Skye asks in an overly loud voice. “We thought you’d been kidnapped!”

“What? Why would you think that?” Violet’s voice is raspy with sleep. It has an inconvenient effect in present company.

Charlene peeks her head in. “See? I told you she’d be in here.”

“I woke up and you were gone! Do you know how worried I was? And you.” Skye points a finger at me. “You’re not supposed to encourage this. You were supposed to have a last night apart to make the anticipation more anticipatory for tonight.”

“What year is this? Nineteen-twenty? Do I even have the right to vote?” Violet’s awake enough for snark, but apparently not quite with it enough to realize I’m sporting a solid case of morning wood. She throws back the covers before I have a chance to react. I’m wearing boxer briefs. They’re white. They cover the issue, but they don’t in any way hide what’s happening.

“Holy Jesus fuck.” Charlene slaps a hand over Skye’s eyes.

“Was that an optical illusion?” Skye pries at Charlene’s fingers while Violet clues in and yanks the covers back up.

“Okay. Now I get your issue with Area 51.” Charlene coughs.

When I’m covered again, Charlene drops her hand and Violet climbs over me, holding the edges of her robe together. I don’t even know what she’s wearing under there. She drops a kiss on my lips, no tongue. She pulls back and smiles. “I’m going to go get pretty so I can marry you!”

I fold my arm behind my head and return the grin. “I’d marry you right this second; you’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

Skye makes an aww sound, and Charlene pretends to gag. Neither of them seems to be able to look me in the eye as they mumble goodbye and usher Violet out of the room. I’m about to take care of my hard-on when my dad busts in, eating a muffin.

“All right, son, let’s get you ready to walk your ass down the aisle.”

My phone gets confiscated, so I’m not able to contact Violet for the rest of the morning. We have breakfast, and then a stylist—apparently hired by my mom—comes up to the suite to do our hair and make sure our nails look nice.

Lance bites his, so they don’t have anything to work with. Darren has lovely cuticles, according to the manicure girl, and Randy refuses to let the chick near his beard. He’s really attached to it. A photographer, magically hired by my mom, comes in to snap a bunch of pictures, then disappears—probably back to where the girls are.

At one-thirty, we get into a limo and head to the church. And then we wait for the girls to show up. Darren passes along a message that they’ll be here soon, and suddenly I’m nervous. I wipe my hands on my pants and make Darren check his breast pocket for the rings for the millionth time.