Page 281 of Broken Saint
Since my trip to Texas after Ella checked herself into the hospital, I’ve barely touched a drop of alcohol. The guys know this, and just like always, they’re fully supportive of my decisionto be sober. But every now and then, things need celebrating just like we did in college. And that calls for a bottle of whiskey.
“West should be here for this,” I grumble.
“You can beat his ass for it later,” Leon says.
“To Colt and Ella,” Luca says, holding his glass up and getting us back on track.
“To Colt and Ella,” the others echo before we all lift our glasses to our lips and swallow our liquor.
It burns all the way down, but I embrace it.
“Fuck. I’m getting married today.”
“Taken long enough, huh?” Kane asks.
Shaking my head, I abandon my glass. That’s more than enough for me.
“Shall we?” Luca asks, heading toward the door.
Glancing at my watch, a wave of anticipation rushes through me.
We don’t have a lot of guests, only those who are important to us, but still, the thought of standing up in front of them today makes me nervous.
It’s stupid. Our games are watched by half the country. A roomful of thirty of our nearest and dearest really shouldn’t affect me. But it does.
Sensing my unease, Luca and Kane hang back while the others move toward the door.
“We get it, man. It’s big.”
“I’m not nervous because I don’t want this.”
Kane chuckles. “We know. Just try to enjoy it, yeah. All too soon, it’ll be over and you’ll wish you could do it all over again.”
Shaking my head, I swallow down the emotion that’s clogging my throat.
“I know I don’t say it much, but…I fucking love you guys.”
“Aw, we love you too, man,” Luca says, slapping his hand on my back.
“You guys coming or what?” Leon calls.
“We’re coming. Gotta make sure my brother is ready.”
As we pass West’s room, all of us hammer on his door, ensuring that he—and anyone else on this floor who was trying to sleep—is fully awake.
He grunts at us from inside the room, but he doesn’t open the door.
“You’ve got twenty minutes or I’m replacing you with Luca.”
“Way to make me feel second best, bro,” Luc teases.
“Just get your ass downstairs, Weston Rogers,” I warn darkly before spinning on my heels and marching toward the elevator.
“He’ll be there,” Brax assures me. “He wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Not important enough to stay sober for though, is it?” I scoff.
I want to be pissed with him, but Brax is right. Something is off with my little brother. I promise myself then and there that I’ll talk to him before we head off on our honeymoon. It’ll eat at me if I don’t.