Finding Love /Jordan Knight FanFic/NKOTB

III

Jordan

I DIDN'T SLEEP at all last night. I spent half of it tossing and turning due to the anger I feel for the situation this girl is in, and the other half chastising myself for thinking about how good she felt in my arms, a girl who isn't mine and never will be. I didn't tell anyone—I wouldn't since it's her business—but now, I'm sitting in this little church next to Jon and his friends, and every single muscle in me is coiled so tight I feel as if I'm about to spring open and burst. 

I know in the background there is music playing, and I should be checking out the bridesmaids as they walk down the aisle—after all, bridesmaids are about as easy as they come—but instead my eyes are glued to the very smug face of that asshole from last night. 

Sure, he's playing his part. He's smiling at the guests and winking at family members, but it isn't until I watch his eyes shift toward one particular bridesmaid that I see the real him. I'm certain that other than the girl the look was intended for, no one but me saw the lustful expression cross his features or the deep blush burn through her cheeks. 

The organ stops, and all around me, people shift to look at the closed doors. The groom and the girl lock eyes one more time and he smirks while shoving his hands into his pockets to adjust his pants. 

What an asshole!

An unidentifiable fury pulses through me, and if I were anywhere else but here, there's a good possibility I would rip his face off and teach him a few things. Guys like him don't deserve this life, and they certainly don't deserve girls like the one who's about to walk through that doorway. 

The string quartet sitting in the upper balcony begins to play, and the rear doors whoosh open. 

Collectively, everyone stands, and there's a delighted gasp from the guests. I turn to see her and am momentarily astounded. Damn. I thought she was beautiful before, but this image of her in a white dress . . . it's indescribable. 

Seconds tick by, but she doesn't move. She's gripping her bouquet like it's a lifeline, and behind the short veil over her face, her eyes are darting all around the church. Eventually, her father approaches her and urges her on. What I wouldn't give to know what she's thinking right now. 

With her eyes trained on the altar—or him, I'm not even sure—she walks by, the pounding of my heart keeping beat with her evenly paced steps. The expensive smell of her perfume lingers as she passes. 

Jesus, what's wrong with me? I don't know this girl, or really anything about her, but I'm completely pissed off at this entire situation and one hundred percent affected by her, more so than I even realized. Maybe it's a case of wanting-what-I-can't-have syndrome, or maybe it's the protective nature I've always had for my family and friends; I just don't know. 

They reach the end of the aisle, the music stops, and the minister begins speaking, but I can't hear a single word. Everyone sits and my hands ball into fists as they rest on my thighs. Tension must be radiating off me because out of the corner of my eye, I see Jon looking my way. He bumps me with his shoulder, trying to grab my attention, but I shake my head, because I can't take my eyes off her. 

Unexplained heat rises and radiates from my back. I feel like I'm going insane, and then through the screaming in my brain, the minister's voice comes across clear as a bell. 

"If any of you has reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace." 

I stop breathing and my mind starts jumping. Do I, or don't I? 

No, wait—what am I thinking? I can't object to this wedding. Granted, I don't believe in weddings, but what am I going to do, take his place? Fuck no. Besides, she doesn't even know me. Objecting would just cause drama, and I abhor drama. The press would have a field day with this, and the team's PR department would have my ass.