Mancandy Crush

by Tawna Fenske

  Part of me appreciates that we’re acting like nothing happened. It’s better this way, if we can just go back to our normal, boring lives.

  “That’s the prettiest dress you’ve ever made.” Ness gives her bell another shake and turns to me. “I still think you should do that TV show.”

  Ignoring her, I survey the lines of Bree’s gown. It does look damn good. “You can’t tell where I fixed the lace?”

  “Not at all.” Ness smiles, and I hate how I can’t stay mad at her. “It’s perfect.”

  I train my eyes back on the bride and groom, watching as they pause to hug family members on their way to the chairlift. I don’t know where Josh is, and I’m trying not to care. We’re up near the front by the altar, so he could be anywhere in the rows of holly-decked chairs behind us.

  Bree turns and blows me a kiss. I wave back, glad I got the dress fixed. That her perfect day wasn’t ruined.

  She knew something was wrong when I showed up at her place this morning. I tried to hide it, but she clutched my hand as I came through the door.

  “Fuck the dress,” she said. “What happened? What did he do?”

  “Nothing,” I assured her, pasting on a smile. “I’m great. Probably juniper. Didn’t you say some people are allergic?”

  Her pitying look shattered any hope I had of becoming a convincing liar. Not that this was a life goal.

  Thankfully, Bree didn’t push. Just let me sew in silence, processing my thoughts.

  My sister, on the other hand…

  “Okay, Val.” Vanessa lowers her jingle bells, along with her voice. “I waited like you said. Can we talk now? We’ve got ages ‘til that line for the chairlift dies down.”

  I glance back toward the lift where well-bundled guests are making their way onto the chairs. The sight of those slowly spinning porch swings fills me with aching memories of that first ride with Josh.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” I look back at Ness, whose eyes are miraculously de-puffed thanks to the magic potions she pulled from her makeup bag. “Unless you need to talk about Raleigh?”

  “The hell with Raleigh.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I’m over it.”

  I lift an eyebrow, not fooled by my sister’s cavalier act. She’s hurting, even if she’s putting on a brave face.

  “Fine,” she relents. “I’m not completely over it. But I’m pretty sure I dodged a bullet.”

  The back of my neck tingles, and I wonder if Josh is watching us. I force myself not to turn around, not to react at all. “Maybe we both dodged bullets.”

  Vanessa shakes her head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  I sigh, wishing I could escape. Just sprint for the chairlift, head down to the lodge, and stuff my face with wedding cake. “Do we have to do this now?”

  “Well, you haven’t been willing to do it all day.”

  “I’ve been busy all day,” I point out. “We’ve kinda had a lot going on.”

  “So now is a good time to talk about this morning,” she says. “I don’t know what you think you saw or heard or—”

  “Vanessa, I’m done.” I shake my head slowly, then paste on a smile as four Bracelyn brothers lumber past looking dapper in tuxedos and snow boots. Our cousins make handsome groomsmen.

  “Hey, guys.” I force myself to smile bigger. “Lookin’ good.”

  Jonathan smiles. “Thanks. Need a hand getting on the lift?”

  “We’re good.” Vanessa squeezes my hand. “We’re just catching up on some stuff.”

  Mark nods and lumbers off toward the line. “We’ll save you a seat at the reception.”

  James sighs and sets out after him. “There are place cards. Seating assignments.”

  “Fuck ‘em.”

  Jonathan grins at us as he jerks a thumb at his brothers. “Better go prevent sibling homicide.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he should stay right here if that’s his goal, but I hold back.

  Nessie waves as the brothers disappear into the crowd milling around the lift tower.

  I turn back to face her. “I really am fine,” I tell her. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “You are so unbelievably bad at this.” She shakes her head. “Lying is not your forte.”

  “And it’s yours?”

  That was mean. I’m annoyed with myself for saying it, but she doesn’t flinch.

  “Fine,” she says. “I deserve that.”

  “No, you don’t.” I sigh. “Look, I’m not mad. Just—disappointed, I guess. But I really need to get down to the reception. With the alterations I made, Bree needs help getting her train pinned up.”

  My urge to run, to flee this conversation and these feelings, is overwhelming. Ness looks into my eyes, and I know she sees my fear. That she knows why I want to get away. If I can just make my escape without seeing Josh again—

  “Can’t one of Bree’s bridesmaids help with her dress?”

  Probably. “No.”

  My sister bites her lip. “Look, there’s nothing going on between Josh and me. I swear to God, whatever you thought you saw this morning—”

  “I know,” I tell her. “I believe you about that.”

  Vanessa blinks. “You do?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I know what I saw was just…well, it was something. Maybe not the aftermath of a hot hookup, but it was a guy intimately comforting a woman he once planned to marry.

  That stings, almost as much as the knowledge that I was dumb enough to let my guard down. That I trusted someone after so many years of avoiding that exact thing. Seeing my sister and Josh together was enough to burst my happy bubble, letting all that self-doubt rush in. I’ve been trying all day to push it back, but it’s no use.

  Which means I need to get out of here.

  Vanessa’s still staring at me, trying to figure out what’s bothering me. “So it’s the other thing,” she says. “The fact that he and I talked about marriage.”

  Her voice is louder than it should be, and I glance around to make sure no random cousins or uncles are lingering nearby. There’s no one. Everybody’s in the lift line, though I could swear I feel Josh watching us from somewhere. Maybe hunkered behind a snowdrift like a spy.

  “There’s just a lot to process,” I tell her. “I spent six years believing you lost your virginity to the guy. Then I find out that was a lie. Next, you tell me the fling was no big deal. Just meaningless teenager stuff. Then I find out you were actually engaged—”

  “It wasn’t like that.” Her sigh is impatient. “I’ve been trying to tell you; it was just talk. A couple of hormone-crazed eighteen-year-olds planning the future like we had any idea at all what real life was about.”

  I don’t want to ask the question, but I hear myself doing it. “Did you believe it?” I ask. “At the time, did you believe you were going to marry him?”

  “Sure!” Vanessa flings her hands in exasperation. “I also believed wedge sneakers were cool, that Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin would last forever, and that ‘not like the other girls’ was a compliment instead of a symptom of ingrained misogyny meant to belittle anything traditionally feminine. I wasn’t the best judge of reality.”

  It’s a fair point, but I’m not ready to concede it.

  “Josh believed it,” I tell her. “Totally and completely. That’s why he flipped out when he saw me. The last time he laid eyes on you, it was all wedding bells and future plans. Then he doesn’t hear from you for six years?”

  “And I’ve already apologized to him.” She sounds tired and defeated. “What else do you want from me? We were dumb kids.”

  “He is not dumb.”

  Now where did that come from?

  Vanessa blinks at me. “That’s not what I’m saying,” she says carefully. “But the fact that you’re defending him means you still care.”

  It’s my turn to throw up my hands. From a distance we probably look like some weird ch
oreographed dance duo. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “Seeing the two of you together this morning, thinking what I thought—I felt like I’d been run over by a goddamn bus. Then finding out no one was straight with me about the engagement thing—it was like the bus backing up to pour tar on me.”

  It’s possible I’m being dramatic, and the way Nessie’s staring makes me glad most of the wedding guests have moved far enough not to hear. I lower my voice anyway.

  “My point is that the one time I took risks and put myself out there, it didn’t pay off.” I sound calmer now, more rational. “What I felt when I saw you two this morning, I don’t ever want to feel that way again. It’s better to just move on and forget it.”

  Vanessa glares at me. I swear to God, she looks like she might slap me if there weren’t witnesses nearby. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  She shakes her head, more disappointed than angry. “You have a chance at something amazing,” she says. “Something deeper and more magical than whatever the hell I thought I had with Raleigh. And you’re throwing it away because you’re scared?”

  “No.”

  Yes, okay. That might be what I’m doing. “I did everything you said,” I tell her. “I took chances. I went whitewater rafting. I hiked in the woods and rode a chairlift and hooked up with a guy I hardly knew.”

  She shakes her head. “You know him. Better than I ever did.” Something glints in her eye. “And I heard you in your bedroom last night. That was way beyond a casual hookup. That was—I don’t know what it was, but it sounded like an out of body experience. A guy who makes you scream like that is worth holding onto.”

  I’m trying not to blush and failing miserably. Trying not to feel anything, and failing at that, too. Why the hell can’t I shut this thing off? My heart, my emotional spigot. Life was so much easier cocooned in my safe little world.

  But think of all the good stuff you were missing.

  I glance back at the chairlift. “I really do have to go,” I tell her. “I’m not kidding about Bree’s dress.”

  “Fine.” She sighs. “Will you at least talk to Josh?”

  I snort. “He’s not exactly falling over himself to come talk to me.”

  “He’s right over there.” She points to a spot beyond my shoulder, and I turn to see him standing by a tree. He’s in a dark suit and snow boots and looks better than any man has a right to in that ensemble.

  I hate how my heart twists at the sight of him. I hate knowing that even now, he has the power to break my heart all over again.

  “Maybe later, okay? I need to get to the reception.”

  As I turn and walk toward the chairlift, my feet feel as heavy and awkward as my heart. Josh’s eyes burn into my back as I trudge toward the lift. Part of me aches to go back. To run back to him, to make this all better somehow.

  But I’m not that brave.

  I’m not even brave enough to turn around, to steal one last look at him for my memory book. It’s better this way, easier to convince myself it was all a dream. Just a fling, nothing that should leave me aching and empty and sore all over. It’s best to leave quickly while I’m still in one piece. I can avoid getting too attached if I leave fast, maybe get on a plane tonight.

  I trudge through the snow, feeling Josh’s eyes on me, almost believing that’s true.

  Chapter 10

  JOSH

  As Vanessa approaches, I hold my breath. My poor, stupid heart bangs on the bars of my rib cage, convinced Ness is coming to tell me something good about Val. To offer some assurance that things will be okay, that we can go back to how we were yesterday.

  But as Vanessa gets closer, I can see that’s not going to happen.

  “Hey,” she says. “Didn’t see you during the ceremony. You’re going to the reception, right?”

  “Right.” A thick lump forms in my throat. Of course she’s not coming to tell me Val’s waiting below, posed under the mistletoe like we’re all good. I can’t believe I thought that.

  What an idiot.

  Shame bubbles up in my chest, bitter and familiar. I hate feeling stupid. I hate that I let myself believe I could have something real with Val. Something deeper and more enduring than a fling.

  I thought she wanted that, too. That we were getting there together.

  I stare at Vanessa, feeling nothing but sadness and remorse. I’ve got no attachment to her, not like I do with Val, but seeing her knifes through me anyway.

  What kind of dumbshit makes the same mistake twice? Believes in forever after only two weeks. But it was different this time. I was sure of it; the feelings were so much stronger.

  This is a new low of idiocy even for me.

  I’ve been silent for so long that Vanessa tries again. “You’re going after her, right? You’re going to get her back. Convince her you belong together and that she doesn’t need to be scared you’ll break her heart.”

  I shove my hands in my pockets and kick at a hunk of ice under my boot. “She said she wants that?”

  Vanessa rolls her eyes. “What do you think this is, third grade playground romance? For fuck’s sake, talk to her. Be a grownup.”

  The shame bubbling in my chest overflows into my throat, making that lump thick and sour. Not like I ever forget I’ve got the intellect of a nine-year-old, but Vanessa’s reminder hits me hard.

  “If she’s convinced herself there’s something going on between you and me, there’s nothing I can do to change her mind.” I sound like a pouty toddler. I know this, I hate this, but shame has a way of making me say the worst possible things.

  Vanessa sighs. “That’s not what this is about. Jesus Christ, the two of you can be so dense.”

  Dense. I ball my hands into fists, willing myself to calm down.

  Vanessa keeps going, oblivious to my spiral of self-hate. “You’re being obtuse, and she’s being a chicken, and the two of you together are like—”

  “She’s not a chicken,” I snap. “She’s the kindest person I’ve ever met, always putting everyone else first. You can’t fucking tell me that’s not brave.”

  Vanessa throws up her hands like I’ve finally gotten a test answer right. “And she belongs with you, dummy,” she tells me. “If you’ll stop pouting long enough to realize that and go after her, you’ll have a chance at making this right.”

  The words she’s been hurling at me hit like whip lashes.

  Dummy.

  Obtuse.

  Dense.

  Twenty-four years of feeling like the dumbest guy on earth are snowballing straight into my sandblasted heart.

  “Stop it.” I unclench my fists and force myself to breathe in and out. “Enough with the name calling.”

  Vanessa blinks. “What?” She frowns, replaying her own words. “I was just giving you some tough love. Trying to pull your head out of your—”

  “I’m not stupid,” I tell her. “Yeah, I have a learning disability, but I’m smart enough to know Valerie is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Holy shit, I said it. I have a learning disability.

  For years, those words have filled me with shame. My father’s words, too, shouting at me in the hall.

  You’re stupid. You’re good for nothing. You’ll never amount to anything.

  I’m done with that. I’m tired of feeling less-than.

  Vanessa’s staring at me like she’s trying to understand what just happened. “A learning disability,” she says slowly. “I’m—I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to trigger you or whatever that was.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to get distracted in the details. That’s not what this conversation is about. “Look, I only told you because I wanted you to understand. I’m done feeling like an idiot. Val’s the first person who really made me feel like I wasn’t, and it’s the best damn feeling in the world.”

  “Then don’t let her go,” she says. “Get her back.”

  My brain is re
eling, struggling to come up with a way to do that. To show her we’re worth fighting for. If Vanessa thinks I have a shot, maybe I do. “I have an idea.”

  Her chin tips up, hopeful and eager. “To win Val?”

  “To win Val,” I confirm. “I need a way to show her I’m not giving up on us. That this is way more than a fling.”

  Her eyes spark with something that looks like hope, and I’m struck by the fierceness of her love for her sister.

  I can relate.

  “Can I help?” she asks. “I’ll do anything. Or is it better if I stay out of it? Just make myself scarce so you can—”

  “I need help.”

  I’ve hated saying those words my whole life. Hated admitting that I wasn’t like everyone else, that I need a hand every now and then.

  I always thought that was the brave thing to do, but maybe I was wrong. Watching Val face her fears again and again, I’ve got a new idea what brave looks like.

  “Got a notepad?” I ask.

  Vanessa doesn’t ask questions. Just fumbles into her purse. “Sure, right here.” She hands it over and keeps digging. “A pen, too, if you need one.”

  “Yes.” I flip the pad open, nervous and excited and yeah, a little freaked out.

  But that’s where the best ideas come from, so I take the pen from Vanessa. “Here’s the plan.”

  ***

  * * *

  “You gonna eat that?”

  Mark Bracelyn—one of Val and Vanessa’s countless cousins—points his fork at the piece of wedding cake on my plate.

  My stomach’s knotted too tightly to eat, so I nudge the untouched plate in front of him. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chelsea rolls her eyes at her husband, but the guy looks like a six-foot-five kid in a candy shop, so it lightens my heart a little. Still, I’m cinched up tighter than a knotted fishing line.

  A mic crackles to life, and I nearly jump out of my seat.

  “Thanks, everyone, for being here.” Bree Bracelyn-Dugan takes the stage and smiles at the crowd assembled in the Mt. Bachelor Sunrise Lodge. The Bracelyns paid to have it renovated just for this, and it’s pretty damn impressive. “We’re so happy you came out to celebrate with us,” Bree continues. “I know this wedding was a tiny bit unusual, so thanks for humoring us.”