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Rachel chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re already here. Might as well try to make the best of it.”
I groan and face forward. “Can I still come down with food poisoning?”
“No,” everyone says in unison.
The driver returns to his seat after loading up our suitcases and then we are on our way, whisking through traffic toward our hotel. I barely pay attention to the skyscrapers. I’ve already been here a few times with the bros and Rachel, so it’s not like I’m interested in any sightseeing. New York looks the same as always. Dirty and urban. Let’s just hope the wedding isn’t the same.
We arrive at the hotel about an hour later, where the driver opens the door and whisks us inside the hotel with the promise of bringing our suitcases inside. Lucas was, of course, right. The hotel is glamorous, and all paid for by Rachel’s soon-to-be stepdad. And there is a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. The carpeting is what I would call red, but it’s a close match to my tie, so I suppose that means its burgundy. The reception desk looks gold plated. I doubt it’s real gold. That would be insane. There’s a large staircase to the left, reminding me of what one would see in a castle, and there’s a bar to the right, which is where I expect to find myself by the end of all this nonsense.
“Should I check us in?” Lucas asks.
“I should probably go with you,” Rachel says with a long sigh. “I think Mom put it under my name. They’ll probably want to see my ID.”
“And your mom is getting married here?” I ask while looking around the place, finding gaudy paintings decorating the wall and even more gaudy-looking guests entering through the doors.
Rachel wrinkles her nose. “Yep.”
“Our wedding better not be like this,” I find myself murmuring, earning a shrewd look from Alex.
Rachel smiles. “Don’t worry. I will want something a bit more outdoors.”
“I like that idea,” Alex says while wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. “Maybe we can do a nude wedding too.”
My face flushes while Rachel bursts out laughing. I don’t know if it’s Alex’s words or my appalled expression that has Rachel laughing. Perhaps it’s both. I can’t help remembering the last time the three of us were alone together. My cock is already hardening at the thought, recalling how pretty Alex looked with the blindfold, how his face was etched with both pain and pleasure from having his hands cuffed. And after, when we got out the gag, how hot he looked with the ball in his mouth.
“All right,” Rachel says loudly, drawing my attention back to reality. “We can discuss our wedding once we get checked in. You three stay here with Maria while Lucas and I go to the reception. Make sure we get our bags, okay? I did not spend six hours looking for a rose-gold dress for it to get lost in New York.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I salute, earning another bright smile from Rachel.
Rachel turns around, but she pauses as someone familiar walks toward us. Someone I never expected to see here.
“Dad?” Rachel asks.
“Rachel!” her dad, Tom, calls, pulling her into a big bear hug. “I thought that was you.”
“Hi, honey,” his girlfriend, Diana, says while holding out her arms.
Rachel looks uncertain, but still gives Diana a hug.
“What are you guys doing here?” Rachel asks.
Diana and Tom look at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. I have no clue what is so funny. I look around at our group, happy to see they are all as confused as me.
“Actually, your mother invited us,” Tom says while scratching his head.
“What?” Rachel breathes, looking horrified.
“Yep,” Tom says with a nod. “After a lot of talking and therapy, it’s safe to say we’re all on good terms now. Which is why we’re here. To be supportive. Anyway, we’ll talk about it over dinner tonight. You’re going right?”
“Don’t forget to wear rose gold,” Diana says with an annoying giggle. “Apparently it’s the theme for the whole weekend.”
“We’ll catch up later,” Tom says while guiding Diana toward the bar, where I really wanted to be right now.
Rachel slowly turns around, her hands fisting. She looks at all of us, frowning, her face unusually pale. She looks like she’s either about to scream or faint.
“Rachel—” I begin.
I’m unable to get another word out as she opens her mouth and says, quite loudly, “What the fuck is going on?”
