The caterer is setting up stations all around the room so the crowds will have access to food no matter where they are. Brynn’s finishing up arranging her bar while Paisley is creating a chalkboard menu that is basically art.

Everything is coming together beautifully, but there’s still one giant dark cloud looming over everything.

Quinton.

I was hoping I’d have a chance to apologize to him face-to-face after Sunday’s game. But when the Mustangs were up by over 20 in the fourth quarter and Vonnie offered me a ride home early, I couldn’t refuse.

It wasn’t at all because I chickened out and was looking for a hasty exit.

Nope, not at all.

Now I just have to hope I can avoid him until after the event and when I do finally see him, he’ll be so thankful for how amazing it was that he won’t have any other option but to forgive me.

“Can I help you with anything?” I ask Hannah, not because I don’t have a hundred other things to do, but because I’m obsessed with the balloon sculptures she creates and I want to learn from the master.

“Sure! We need to move these toward the entry.” She always sounds as if she’s just finished drinking espresso shots, giddy and energetic. But I guess that’s just what happy people sound like? Weird.

She stands up from behind the balloon structure. It’s so massive that her legs physically cannot just climb over the balloons to get to me, she has to walk around it instead.

She’s walking toward me, pointing a bright pink fingernail near where I’m standing. “See that gold balloon? You should be able to feel some string beneath it—just grab that and lift.”

I lean in, wincing as I go, so afraid that I’m going to pop a balloon and ruin this magnificent creation.

“Don’t worry, I’ve never popped a balloon doing the transfer,” Hannah says. She must have seen the look of terror on my face. “It will be fine.”

I want to believe her, but she must not be aware of my aptitude to fuck shit up.

“I think she’s just worried it will be too heavy for her,” a deep voice says from over my shoulder.

Because why would my hope for Quinton staying away until after the event happen? Oh, that’s right, because that’s how my life always works!

But at least he’s joking? I mean, it is at my expense, but it’s a joke and I feel like that means he doesn’t hate me still?

“Hardy har har.” I look at Hannah, who is suddenly sporting very rosy cheeks, and roll my eyes. “He thinks he’s a comedian, don’t mind him.”