“So you moved.”

She nods and slowly sits up again, returning to straddling my waist and tracing the muscles of my torso. “I didn’t just move. I ran. And until I saw him at Jackson Brews last year, I thought he’d finally let me go.” She trails her gaze up my chest and finally meets my eyes. “But you were there, and you understood I needed you. You have no idea how much that meant to me.”

I want to be there every time she needs me, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for that yet. I sit up, pulling her body flush with mine. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I cup her face in my hand and kiss her slowly.

“Don’t let him get to you,” she says against my mouth. “I don’t know what I’d do if he got in your head the way he’s gotten in everyone else’s.”

“I don’t like the guy, and I don’t trust him. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I do.” She studies my face, and I know we’re not talking about Rich anymore. “I’m so worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” I thread my fingers through her hair and guide her mouth back to mine. “In fact, with you right here, I’m fucking fantastic.”

Teagan

“I guess we pushed the Mehndi party back for nothing.” Saanvi tosses her phone on the bed and frowns. “Sabrina missed her red-eye, and she’s not going to be here until dinner.”

Mom frowns, and I can tell she wants to rant about my cousin breaking too many promises, and maybe even give Saanvi a lecture about how she told her Sabrina shouldn’t be a bridesmaid for this very reason. Our original schedule had us getting the traditional henna designs on our hands and feet yesterday, but Sabrina needed to stay at home another day for a story about some famous parrot, which was adopted by a country music couple, so we pushed it back.

Instead of giving her an “I told you so,” Mom lifts her chin and shrugs. “Her loss.”

We’re all gathering in Saanvi’s suite for her Mehndi party. My second cousin on my Dad’s side, Pari, is a henna artist, and she’ll use a special paste to paint designs on the hands and feet of the bridal party. Well, everyone except Sabrina, it seems.

“I’m sure she’s sorry,” I say lamely. I don’t really mean it. Sabrina’s pretty self-centered and wouldn’t show up on time to meet the Pope if there was nothing in it for her.

Saanvi waves a hand. “I don’t want to talk about her. Let’s talk about something happy.”

“Carter seems like a very nice man,” Mom says, turning to me.

That is something happy, indeed. “He really is, Mom. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Saanvi winks at me from across the room where she’s admiring the designs on Liam’s mother’s wrists. Pari has already completed her designs on the mothers of the bride and groom and has begun work on McKenna’s designs. She’ll do Saanvi’s designs last.