by S. E. Hall
“Maybe you should worry less about your warm-up music and more about warming up your old ass muscles,” JT goads him through the net.
Well, no one can say we didn’t do our job teaching our next generation how to properly smack-talk. See, haven’t even started playing yet and the old folks can already claim one victory. Which is going to be the only one we get. Even sadder than our odds? The fact that Laney and Sawyer actually think we have a chance.
“Are you sure you don’t want to play, love?” Judd asks Sky, sprawled out on her blanket over on the sidelines. “I’ll sit out.”
She looks at him with half adoration, for always thinking of her first, and half confusion, for thinking there’d be even the slightest chance she’d want to play. Looks like her mama, doesn’t act like her. “I’m fine right here, but I’ll be cheering for you!” She smiles and holds up her phone. “Got our hollaback song ready too!”
And she does, blasting “Stomp” when our song ends.
Dear Lord, let the “friendly” game of volleyball begin. All fun and games till somebody gets spiked in the face with a volleyball. Those odds I’d bet on.
Bennett, Dane and Evan are set up in our back row, cause they actually love our children and are able to contain themselves at the thought of competition, but Laney’s at the net throwing some sort of gang signs—that no self-respecting gang would ever use—at Brynn (who will hand her mom her ass with as much effort as she’d use to take a nap). I’m across from Ryder, just standing here like a normal person, and yep, Sawyer did in fact, just moon Blaze. Which also, of course, means he mooned every child on that side of the net.
I’m in the wrong damn row.
Good Stuff. Clean, wholesome family fun.
“Does your family take games this seriously” I ask Ryder.
He laughs uncomfortably. “Um no, not really. At all. We’re more about trying to boost self-esteem in my family.”
Sure, makes sense.
“Okay, let’s do this! Come on B!” Laney claps, encouraging Bennett who’s serving first for us.
Which would’ve been great... had the ball have made it over the net, rather than the back of my leg.
A back and forth, poorly directed remake of Game of Thrones ensues, filled with jabs and what has to be considered fouls, both of the vocal and physical variety. I honestly think Sawyer spent more time on their side of the net than ours…but Blaze gave him back all he wanted, I assure you.
By the time they’re serving game point to us, shocker, I’m too busy laughing to really play. Bennett has pretty much just stood in place the entire game, not only because her foot’s still sore, but because she sucks something awful. Not that we had anyone to replace her with; our choices of Whitley or Emmett weren’t just overly tempting.
Luckily, they had a weak link too—Macie—but at least she tried. And she actually helped our team stay within winning distance this long, by providing a distraction for JT, ultimately costing them two players—boy is totally sprung.
But the overall MVP, humble and perhaps unaware, is Brynn. Hands Down.
And when she lands her final serve right where she intended—in front of Bennett, it falls at her feet perfectly, sealing their victory.
“Nice shot, honey!” Laney beams, too proud of her girl to realize she just lost.
Ryder runs over, kicking up sand behind him and picks Brynn up, spinning her in a circle.
I’d eat sand all day to keep that smile on her face.
You go, Brynny.
After the game, I head to my room to get ready for the rehearsal. Not that I have an intricate role in the ceremony, except to support Sky and Judd. Like I always have, and always will.
There’s no denying what the two of them have.
For some reason, I pull the gold slider bar over, leaving the door to my room propped open. That ridiculous hope within me that refuses to ever completely die out, the small voice inside my head that’s actually convinced I deserve some semblance of being the one, for once, who’s pursued, navigating the pathetic move.
I start the water in the shower to let it heat up and find a good playlist on my phone to drown out the silence. “House Party” by good ole’ Sam Hunt comes on and well, you just can’t not smile when that plays. I strip out of my clothes, discovering that half the sand on the beach made it back with me, and step in.
And not to be outdone by any other shower I’ve taken over the last several years, my hand wraps around my already hard cock this time too. The hot water should ease the ache and tension in my muscles, but it doesn’t, only heating my urgency as I tug hard and fast on my dick.
The steam should fog out the visions behind my eyes, squeezed shut, but no, cursed there too. The same image that’s been replaying for as long as I can remember is at the ready, front and center, just as vibrant as always. And those words, hoarse, unable to be taken back, and certainly unforgettable, burn in my ears as I come all over my own hand.
Never goes away.
Nothing, or no one, has ever found a way to even come close to surpassing, or suppressing, it.
NOT What We Rehearsed
There’s something unsettling brewing in the air as I walk down to the beach for the rehearsal. Must have something to do with those ancient, urban legends that true redheads, making up less than three percent of the population, are witches. And since I’m a true ginger, I’m definitely picking up on some witchy vibes.
When I stop on the scene, Whitley’s shifting people around like mannequins, bossy commands like “stand here, no, not there” firing off her tongue while Pablo attempts to hide behind a tree. And the minister... I’m guessing that’s not holy water in his silver flask. Someone really should tell him the sun glints off silver¸ outing his lil’ habit. Not that I can blame him though.
I take a seat beside Laney, watching on in silence, Dane on her other side. You’d think the parents of the bride, ya know, the ones paying for this whole shindig, would be more vocal. But then again, they’ve both met Whitley.
And wouldn’t take this from her for anything in the world.
Oh, make no mistake about it –this wedding is as much about Whit as it is the actual bride.
I know the second he joins us without so much as turning my head, I always do. I can’t define it, and constantly remind myself not to try. It just is. But there is one new development…I try not to let it bother me when he chooses to sit by Dane rather than me.
Whatever. He’ll get over it, he always does, in the form of some sketch one night stand or another. Surely Tia will be by to clean his room soon.
I try not to let that thought bother me either.
“You excited?” I hold Laney’s hand and offer her my biggest smile.
“Yeah,” she sighs, although happily. “I know I shouldn’t be thinking she’s too young, since I was her age when I married Dane.” she sniffles. “But damn she’s young.” She laughs at herself.
“Wouldn’t matter if she was thirty, or eighty, it’d still be Judd.” I offer the truth.
“Absolutely.” She nods, firming her bottom lip and straightening her shoulders. “Thanks Ben, I needed reminded of that.”
“That’s what I’m here for. When you know, you know.”
Zach scoffs, from three chairs down, loud enough for me to hear him. Laney gives me an inquisitive look and I shrug just to play it off. I know exactly why he did it, what he’s thinking.
“What the hell, Whit? You lose one of your note cards or something?” Sawyer comes stalking down the beach, voice angry and booming. “Seems to be a glitch in your plans, Ms. Planner.”
Per usual, nobody knows what the hell he’s talking about... until we all look to the front, right where he’s heading, and it clicks into place. Uh oh. Seems there’s been a few last minute alterations made to the procession, Blaze now escorting Presley down the aisle. Which puts Ryder with Macie, although, if judging by the way he’s gazing at Brynn, he no more knows he’s walking Macie than he does that she’s even here. Brynn’s
her sister’s maid of honor though, and JT is of course Judd’s best man, so even the incredible Aunt Bennett can’t fix that one.
“Presley’s walking with Ryder. That,—” Sawyer points at Blaze. “—is not Ryder. I’m trying to be nice, cooperate for Skylar and Judd’s sake, but this shit is not happening!”
And now those witchy vibes I’ve been feeling are starting to make sense.
Dane stands and goes to Sawyer. “Do not ruin my daughter’s wedding. It’s just a twenty second walk, no big deal. And if Skylar’s old enough to get married, Presley’s more than old enough to take a quick, public stroll with this kid. They flew by themselves to Jamaica, been strutting around in bikinis, and this is the part you’re worried about?”
“That all it is?” Sawyer asks his daughter pointedly. “Just a change in pairings, for oh,” he pops both shoulders, “shits and giggles. Nothing else your old man should be worried about?”
“Stop.” Emmett grates, harsher than she’s ever said anything in as long as I’ve known her. “This is Skylar’s day. It’s not about you, or Presley.”
He ignores his wife, glare fixed on Presley. “Asked you a question, P.”
“You’re still twenty-five years old, right?” Blaze, brave, stupid, stupid boy says to Presley and she doesn’t even think about acknowledging his question, face turning a sickly shade of mortified.
“The fuck you just say?” Sawyer jolts forward, Dane jumping in his path and Zach out of his chair now too; right in the middle of it.
My eyes find Skylar, head buried in Judd’s chest while Whitley and Evan both also try to soothe her.
“Not playing with you, Beckett. My girl’s up there crying. Shut the hell up and settle your shit later.” Danes whole body is shaking he’s so mad, his tone a sinister warning.
Laney’s hand is now crushing mine. Like no shit, I think I feel bones cracking. But Dane’s handling it (sort of) and I know Laney. She may be dying to go put Sawyer in his place, but she won’t undermine Dane’s handle on the situation in front of everyone.
But I sure as hell will.
‘Sawyer,” I duck and dodge the crowd around him till I’m in his face, finger poking his chest. “Why would you do this to Skylar? You know she doesn’t deserve this and you’d be mad as hell if some hotheaded, selfish asshole tried ruining Presley’s special day. You need to simmer down!”
“I agree.” He snarls beyond his clenched jaw. “But I don’t like being lied to, or tricked, when it comes to my only child. Now, Presley Alexandra Beckett, this can all stop right now, and I’ll be able to go hug Sky and beg her to forgive me, if you answer my question. Own whatever you need to, young lady.”
I lean around Sawyer to make eye contact with Presley, not exactly sure which message I want to try to convey. Lie to her dad for Sky’s sake, possibly pissing off her boyfriend in the process, or tell the truth and literally light the fuse on the bomb?
I watch as Presley looks to Skylar, her best friend, bonded for life, from the start of life... and see Skylar smile, take her friend’s back, and nod.
Presley mouths “I’m sorry” to her then turns back to her father with steely determination on her face and a defiant lift to her chin. “Fine, yes. Blaze is my older, tatted, Harley-ridin’ boyfriend! Has been for months! And I’m in love with him! Happy?” She screams, throwing her hands in the air.
“Why you lil’ mother motherfucker,” Sawyer howls, charging toward the not-so-little motherfucker in question.
“Sawyer!” I scream, and catapult myself onto his back, hanging on for dear life. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Have you?” He grunts, spinning around, trying to reach behind himself and detach me. “Emmy, Gidget, fuck, I’ll even take Whitley. One of you come get your girl!”
“Jesus, Bennett, get off him!” I hear Zach through the mayhem.
“Not until he calms down!” I whack Saw in the back of the head. “And apologizes to everyone, especially Sky!” I whack him again.
How my ears pick it up in all the noise, I haven’t the faintest, but I catch Blaze asking Presley, “I thought you said the blond one, Skylar’s mom, was the crazy one?” I start laughing so hard I lose my grip on Sawyer.
But the fall on my ass I’m expecting never comes, because Zach’s right there to catch me.
“Thank God Judd’s a legacy, cause no one in their right mind would ever marry into this family.” He shakes his head at my antics.
“Zip it.” I snap my hand in shut ’er down motion and spin around to lay into Sawyer some more. “Saw, you don’t know anything about Blaze, except that he reminds you of yourself! And how is that such a bad thing? I happen to think you’re pretty badass. Can’t you at least try and be objective, give it a chance? Certain things are meant to be, and no one really knows until they try!”
“Can you hear yourself when you talk?” Okay, change in the previously scheduled program. Obviously Zach has something else to say. Or shout. Everyone’s shocked at his impromptu interruption, even Sawyer, standing perfectly still, and quiet. “Bennett Cole, you’re a damn hypocrite in severe need of a lesson in ‘practice what you preach’! You’re—you—God!” He tugs at his hair, face an angry red and incapable of finishing complete thoughts or sentences.
“Don’t go anywhere, Blaze!” Sawyer yells over his shoulder, watching the new show. “I’m nowhere near finished with you yet, this is just more interesting. Cause you’re a dull fucker!”
“What the hell is happening right now? Did we hire hidden cameras to tape a blooper reel to offset costs or something and you forgot to tell me?” I hear Laney ask behind me.
“Sadly, no. We purposely hang out with these people.” Dane answers her. “Please go check on your daughter.”
“Right here, Daddy,” Skylar pipes right in. “I’m fine, I’ll make Uncle Sawyer feel like crap later. Can’t miss this.”
Unbelievable. You couldn’t make this shit up.
Well, if Skylar’s not upset, and obviously enraptured... let the games begin!
“What the hell are you talking about?” I yell at Zach. “Come on, you can do better than that! You got somethin’ to say, might as well get it all out!” I wiggle my fingers on both hands, begging him to bring it. You open the can, I’m gonna make sure you eat every last bite in it.
When did I become so… hostile? Angry?
“Give it a chance?” He parrots my earlier words, sneering. “Meant to be? Won’t know until they try? You are the last person who should be dishing out that advice!”
“I give people a chance!” I stomp my foot—not the one I meant to—and it hurts like freakin’ hell.
“Yeah, the wrong damn ones. Like Kendall, the complete asshat, who couldn’t find your, uh, never mind.” He frowns apologetically at the kids.
“G-spot?” JT helps him out, earning himself a slap upside the head from his mother.
“Definitely what he was gonna say.” Sawyer grins and fist bumps JT. “If you’re having any problems in that area, see me later.”
“Sawyer!” Laney screeches. “Just, no. I can’t believe I even have to tell you that.”
How have we not been offered our own reality show?
“And cheated on you!” Oh goodie, the theatrics have yet to deter Zach, right back to airing my dirty laundry, in stereo. “But he sure was texting some good stuff, before we were even here twenty-four hours! Why’s he back in the picture, thinking the two of you are having dinner next week? Why is his dumb ass not blocked from your phone? And who the fuck thinks being called “sweet tits” is in any way sexy?”
“What? I didn’t see that text message. Did you delete it?” Now I’m livid, how dare he announce that sickening nickname that Kendall refuses to quit calling me! Oh, and deleting my texts, yes, definitely that too. I stomp closer, (foot’s already throbbing so what the hell), my hand just twitching with the urge to slap him... if I could reach his face. Tall bastard. “And how do you know my pass code?”
He’s asking for
it with that condescending expression he’s aiming at me. “It’s. My. Birthday. That’s how.”
“Her phone code is his birthday? That’s a biggie, huh?” Sawyer asks someone behind me.
“Why, Bennett? Why do all the douche bags who I know don’t matter to you get chance after chance?” His anger is gone, replaced by a desperate confusion that stabs at my heart.
And I simply can’t drum up any gusto with which to reply, only broken, hushed honesty. “Because there’s no risk, nothing to worry or think about. Nothing to care about either way. I can’t get burned if there’s no spark.”
“Oh, there’s a risk, but not one you realize, or maybe you do, and just don’t care about it either. Not enough to acknowledge it anyway. And no spark, huh?” His head slants to one side, the corner of his mouth lifted in pompous mockery. “When’s the last time there was a spark, Bennett?”
My eyebrows damn near shoot right off my forehead in disbelief. Is he kidding me with this? Here, now, he finally asks that? Eludes to what we’ve ignored privately for years, in front of an audience?
“When. Bennett?” He repeats, arms now crossed over his broad chest, his eyes begging me to answer, honestly.
There’s no buffering sound of the waves, wind or birds overhead. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can hear every breath taken by our captivated spectators, the only break in the suffocating silence.
“I’m serious, Bennett. Answer the question, right here, right now.”
I feel Laney move in behind me, letting me know she’s with me, no matter what, hand on my shoulder.
I open my mouth, Zach’s eyes lighting up... but I just can’t. Instead, I search out Skylar.
“I love you beautiful girl, and this is your time.”
And with that, I take off running, on a bum foot, not looking back, hoping our spectacle deterred Sawyer’s rampage and the rest of the rehearsal can go off without a hitch.
The Road to Hell is Paved with the Best of Female Intentions
I’ve been having such a stellar day up to this point, I can’t possibly fathom it getting any better. And when I feel someone sit down beside me, I’m not just real optimistic this is the big turning point.
