“Three! Get it, ladies!”

It’s a mad rush of arms up and noises of disappointment when the bouquet flies over their heads. It lands…

Straight into my arms.

What the hell?

“OH MY GOD!” Eleanor grabs my arm and holds it up in victory. “Amelia caught it! Yay!”

My friends crowd around me with offers of congratulations and a few grumbles over not catching it. The DJ is saying something into the mic, but I can’t make it out. I’m too surrounded by women who are all over me. Women who are my friends.

Women I love dearly.

I hug them all, and we’re laughing and whooping it up like a bunch of overexcited toddlers, but I’m too happy to care. So what if I look ridiculous. I caught the bouquet! My friends love and support me no matter what!

I’ve never felt so cared for.

“But I really didn’t want it,” I say once they’ve pulled away from me. I glance down at the gorgeous bouquet, the deep red roses that are so soft, they look like velvet. I touch the edge of one, bring up the bouquet to my nose so I can inhale the delicious scent. “Oh my God, it’s beautiful. And they smell amazing.”

“Uh huh,” Eleanor says, and I can hear the doubt in her voice, though I can also see that her eyes are twinkling with amusement. “Sure you didn’t want it.”

“Now it’s time for the guys! Get on up here, gentlemen! And you’re going nowhere, Mrs. Sullivan. Your mister has to take the garter off first!” the DJ announces.

We go to the edge of the dancefloor as all the single men make their way out there, led by Charlie. He heads straight for Candice, wraps her up in a big hug and a deep kiss, leaving Candice standing there with very red cheeks and her hand on her head. Like she needs to keep it there or her head is going to fly off.

Adorable.

I clutch the bouquet tight while someone brings out a chair and Candice sets her foot on the seat. Charlie slowly lifts up the skirt of her wedding dress, exposing her bent leg, and the delicate pale blue garter wrapped around her slender thigh. He sends his bride a seductive look, then tugs the scrap of fabric down her thigh, over her knee, along her calf, before slipping it off. He turns to face the guys, twirling the garter around his index finger and grinning like a mad man.

You can just feel the happiness radiating off the newly married couple, and it makes my heart ache with longing.

I want that.

Someday.

“All right, men. Line up and get ready to grab that garter! You know the myth that accompanies these rituals, am I right? Whoever catches the bouquet and garter, they’re the next to marry.”

Please. That is so not going to happen. Stella will be the next one to get married in our friend group. Actually, Sarah is the one who’ll walk down the aisle next, considering she’s currently wearing a giant rock on her finger. Thanks to her fiancé, Jared, who just so happens to be the brother of the bride.