Elliot ditched his jock reputation after high school. He happily traded his cleats and shoulder pads for college cafeteria food and seminars notes. Now, without the distraction of football, he has managed to find success at the University of Minneso...
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The wedding was overlayed with tones of warmth. Yellow sunflowers flowers, brass plates, and gold hors d'oeuvre trays beautifully limned dark teal tablecloths. Like moonlight reflecting off the Medici Fountain at Luxembourg Gardens. The reception hall was dimly lit, but brightened by lively music - an enchanting enough venue to convince the guests to abandoned their seats and occupy the dancefloor.
Elliot, the guest of honor, was in the middle of the crowd. He had made friends with the entire room of strangers - dancing in circles and laughing at drunken speeches. He didn't even speak French, yet somehow, he had managed to connect with everyone - the bride's grandparents, the estranged cousins, the small nieces and nephews. Pierce watched him from afar. He was twirling with the flower girl, trying to teach her how to spin on her toes.
He's good with kids. Pierce made a mental note.
Pierce was silently sitting beside Chandler, picking at his plate of foreign food. Their clothes had finally dried and their skin was heated by the champagne flowing through their bloodstream. Wyatt had been in the bathroom for hours. Apparently airplane peanuts, snails, and alcohol weren't a good mix.
"So," Chandler began, sipping her bubbly drink. "You are Pierce Thompson. Une célébrité."
"I, uh...I don't know about that." Pierce chuckled, wringing his neck with a little shrug. "I mean, I do have a burger named after me at Tootie's Bar in downtown Duluth, but that was because I won a bowling contest when I was ten. I don't really like to brag -"
"You are exactly how he described," Chandler interjected, shifting her head toward the dancefloor. Her words were pointed. "Elliot. He talks about you a lot."
Pierce shifted in his seat. "He does?"
"He does," she affirmed. "Which is odd. He does not talk about guys - especially not nice guys. He normally mentions the bad ones." Her eyes flickered to him. Lumiere. Like she could see everything, even in the dark.
"Um...What do you - ?"
"Elliot has been hurt in the past." A protective sister's warning. Lethal, preparing to strike. Pierce knew that tone well. He had heard it from his own sister Erin, yet somehow it was even more terrifying in an accent.
