by S. E. Hall
“I’m sorry about your face,” I begin in a lulled tone. “No one should ever mess with that gorgeousness, but I’m so proud of you for not hitting him back. You’re all a man should be Zach Reece. Restrained intensity, quiet force and a gentle soul. I’d be utterly lost without you, just in case you didn’t already know that. And I know I don’t thank you or tell you how important you are to me, the most intricate part of my life really, near often enough. You do so much for me and never ask for anything in return. You think I don’t know how many dates you’ve cancelled or bailed on early to come to my rescue? Not gonna lie, I clogged my sink on purpose to pull you away from that Ann or Annie chick, what the hell ever, she was ratchet.” I laugh, swiping a few stray tears off my cheeks. Then I reposition, because this floor is hard and unforgiving, turning to lean my back on the door now, knees pulled up to my chest.
“I hate when you go on dates. No, I loathe it, to the point of wanting to break something, or someone. I always wonder, ‘is he laughing as much with her as he does with me? Does she act all pissy when he eats off her plate? Do you feel comfortable enough to eat off her plate?’ Cause you damn sure do mine. I don’t even like green beans, Zach. I order them for you. Then I think, ‘she better not even think about reprogramming the buttons on his radio, I worked hard getting those exactly how we like them. One through three is me, four through six all you. And bitch is going to bleed if she readjusts the position of the passenger seat, took me forever to get it where I can see out the windshield without stretching.’ But most of all, I feel physically ill, a pain so bone-deep it almost cripples me, when your sheets or shirt, still linger with the smell of sex. Or perfume. Or sex with a skank who wears cheap perfume. Not that I can fault you for it, but I don’t like it. I fucking hate it. Did you know I haven’t been with anyone since you?” I laugh again, but it’s sharp and filled with bitter resentment. And a pinch of pathetic. “Nope, no one. Years, double-digits, and not a single one. I have a punch-card for the sex toy store, one of those buy ten, get one free things. I’ve gotten, hmmm, I’d say at least twenty free items. Unfortunately, I’m not exaggerating.”
I literally just heard the universe laugh at me. Eh, at least it’s listening.
“So many times I’ve wanted to just grab your face and kiss the hell out of you, or straddle your lap and rip your shirt right off your body. Maybe sneak a hand under the covers when we’re lying together. Answer the door to you naked. Something, anything! But I’m afraid, terrified, to lose my best friend. That whole friends with benefits thing never works out in real life. It either ruins the friendship, which I’ll clit-flick myself until my hand falls off before I risk that, or the two people end up together, some big epiphany suddenly hitting them that they were meant to be together. And I know that’s not an option with you. Figured if you hadn’t made a move in the last decade, you probably weren’t going to. You don’t do serious relationships, I know this. I mean, look how old we are and you’ve never lived with a woman, been engaged, hell, your longest relationship was four months and twelve days. Yes, I counted. She was nasty too, by the way.” Ivana.” I snort.” Please, she wasn’t a damn Trump!
I vanna kick her ass, is more like it.”
“Ma’am, can I help you?”
I startle, so caught up in my tell-all that I didn’t even notice the housekeeper—not Tia—stop in front of me.
“Actually, yes. You got a pillow on that cart?”
“A pillow?” She thinks I’m insane, her puzzled expression all but screams it. “Would it be better if I helped you get a replacement key card?”
“Nope, just the pillow please.”
“Okaaay.” She drags it out, producing a pillow from the bottom of her cart and handing it over hesitantly, like it’s a live bomb, or again, like I’m insane and may suffocate myself with it. “You, have yourself a nice evening, ma’am.”
“Will do.” No I won’t. “Thank you.”
Ah, much better I lay down, nice and comfy, in the middle of the concrete breezeway cause’ that’s how I roll… and try to remember where I left off in my autobiography.
“As I was saying, I won’t lose you or ruin what we have for an occasional tumble between the sheets. And I’m not gonna do it with anyone else, because at this point, not only has my vagina probably closed in on itself, but... once you’ve had scorching, you can’t go back to lukewarm. Yes, it was scorching, but also tender, and loving. I’d rather keep what we had together as my last memory than risk some other sub-par excuse for companionship clouding the image. And—”
Wait just a damn minute…
Oh my God, that’s it! That’s what it’s been this whole time! The harsh twinge in my chest turns to a steady, hollow suffering from the enormity of the realization I’ve just come to. Capable tears pour down my face and I sit up, wrapping my arms around myself.
Everyone always says the people in Heaven are looking down on you. Does that mean they can see everything? Even your thoughts?
I sure hope not.
But I’ve come too far now to deny myself the liberation this piteous little chat I’m having with myself is actually bringing. And I’m on the fence about the whole “see your thoughts” thing, so I might as well say it out loud.
“I loved Tate with all my heart, and I would’ve been happily, madly in love with him, for the rest of my life. That was the plan. And now I know why I’ve felt so guilty all these years, and never dared to dream for an us, Zach.” I swallow hard, the shame not going down easily. “Maybe it’s because we were so young, or maybe that’s just an excuse, I don’t know. But Tate and I… well, it wasn’t like us. He and I, we weren’t... you and I are closer. There’s a deeper level there that’s hard to explain and even harder to admit. I feel absolutely terrible saying this, but it’s true. You and me, we talk about things Tate and I never did. You notice everything, the little things that he, didn’t. And being together—”
I go back in my mind, pulling from the deepest recesses any and every memory I can of Tate and I; how it felt, what I felt... and stop. It’s too much.
I stand up and grab the pillow, hugging it to myself.
“I think that’s enough for now. I know you didn’t hear a word I said, and that’s okay, I needed to do this for me. God knows best, Zach. It took me until just now to fully come to terms with that. I’ll never speak of this ever again, but,” deep breath, “It’s supposed to be you.”
I turn and walk away, steps weighted by my conundrum, feeling both lighter and heavier than they, I, ever have in my life.
As I open the door to my room, my phone dings with a text. I pull it out of my pocket and sway on my feet when I read what it says.
Zach: It IS me, Ben.
Cat and Mouse
I don’t claim to know a damn thing about weddings, but I’m starting to suspect there may have been some validity to all of Laney’s complaints about paying for a wedding package—that doesn’t come in a package.
It’s almost time for the ceremony to start and I haven’t seen or been able to get ahold of Bennett all day. But I’ve seen Pablo—twice! Now why is it I can’t turn a corner without running into his ugly ass, but I can’t find my gorgeous lil’ redhead anywhere?
It’s because, according to Evan, the girls started prepping at the crack of dawn. Hair, make-up, bridal luncheon and whatever else he listed after I quit listening. Surely Bennett can do her own hair and make-up, right? Right, I’ve actually seen her do it! Many times. But no, my logic’s apparently illogical on this point too, because I’ve also been informed that Skylar insisted all the women, grandmas too, all get the full works done together.
Killin’ me.
Last night, it took every ounce of willpower in my body not to jerk open the door and wrap Bennett in my arms, then wrap our bodies around each others’.
But, as much as my dick hates me for it today, that wasn’t what Bennett needed from me most right then. And that’s what I do, gladly; I put Bennett’s needs before my own. Sh
e’d been carrying around the burden of all that she unloaded last night for years. There was no way I was going to interrupt her and deny her that release, or possibly embarrass her.
And somewhat selfishly, I wanted to hear it. Her complete honestly, unrehearsed or refined, the things she’d never say if she knew I was listening. Things I’ve spent years wondering about, second-guessing myself on and holding myself back from asking her about or pressing her for more on for way too damn long.
Now I know.
And fuck me if it didn’t feel fantastic to hear it.
But now that I can finally assure her that her every fear is mirrored by my own and I’m still more than ready to jump, take the risk, only with her, I can’t fucking find her!
Drivin’ me out of my mind.
I jump up at the knock on my door, ravenous for the emerald-eyed redhead I just know is waiting on the other side. I can’t even begin to imagine the look on my face when I open it to find Dane standing there.
“Shit.” He winces. “Sorry about the eye, man.” His expression is one of regret, but his mouth, twitching at the corner, is totally saying nailed the son of a bitch!
“Uh huh, eat a dick, Kendrick.” I grumble and step back to let him in my room.
“I’m gonna go ahead and pass, but thanks. Here, I brought your outfit. Where the hell do you find clothes to fit your big ass?” He laughs.
“Your wife. She picks ’em out then delivers them to me, naked.” Huh, no laugh from him on that one. Go figure. “And why exactly do I need an outfit? I brought clothes, you’ve seen me wear them.”
“Sky wants us all wearing the same thing. Beach wedding, beach attire.” He shrugs, happy to do his daughter’s bidding.
I don’t even wanna think about the hoops we’re all gonna have to jump through when Presley gets married. She’s ten times the princess pants that Skylar is. Not to mention, she’s an only child and the whole damn apple orchard of Sawyer’s eye. He told me once, drunk, (and not gonna sugar-coat it, a lil’ sappy), that the reason him and Emmett never had any more kids is because he didn’t want to risk Presley ever doubting his love for her or the fact she is his daughter; like one child being biologically his might cause her some insecurity. He just wasn’t willing to take the chance.
So imagine what he’ll see to it she gets for her big day.
“I get that the groomsmen all need to match, but the rest of us too?”
“Just put on the damn outfit, One-Eyed Willie. Jesus, you’re whining about it worse than Beckett.” He chuckles on his way out the door.
I survey the situation—okay, not as bad as I thought—khaki shorts and a white dress shirt. Preppy beach boy—has Skylar written all over it. But I won’t be surprised if Judd shows up in his Wranglers and boots, despite what his bride says.
When I walk down to the beach where the nuptials are taking place, I finally lay eyes on that familiar, flowing mane of russet hair, and the tightness I’ve been toting around in my chest all days slackens. Just from seeing her, if only the back of her head. Clever lil’ witch has purposely already taken her seat, wedging herself protectively between Laney’s mom and Emmett. She knows that will stop me from demanding we talk right now, but it’s merely a road bump, that won’t slow me down for long. I smile to myself; this little ploy of hers confirms that her thoughts have been centered around us all day too, so much so, that she’d strategically placed herself before I got down here, probably rushing to that exact spot.
Enjoy it while you can Bennett, I’m coming for ya.
Everyone else starts taking their seats. What the hell, I don’t even know who half these people are. Is wandering up to weddings to which you weren’t invited and know no one at some sort of Jamaica thing or part of the package? Random seat-fillers included. Just as I pick a chair, beside Evan’s dad, someone I actually recognize, the music starts. Judd steps up next to the minister in the front, coincidentally enough… wearing the same thing as I am. Women.
All heads turn to watch as two by two, the wedding party makes their way down the sandy aisle.
Except mine.
I’m staring at Bennett, as breathtaking as I’ve ever seen her look. Shoulders bared by the strapless mint green dress she’s wearing, held in place by her perfect breasts and stopping in the middle of her flawless thighs.
And she knows I’m looking. Stealing quick glimpses my way out of the corner of one eye, her chest, where my own gaze keeps returning, moving up and down quickly with her accelerated breathing.
Good thing we were “instructed” to wear our shirts untucked, cause the sight of her has me hard. And the draw, the game of cat and mouse, testing each other, seeing exactly how long we can withstand temptation, thrive on anticipation… can’t say I’m not enjoying it. Because I know this particular game will soon be coming to an end, and a whole new round, with endless possibilities and much bigger prizes begins.
The big moment finally arrives, and when Dane’s asked to give Skylar away, I pivot my attention back that direction. I don’t want to miss this part, because in a way, we’re all giving her away, to Judd, expanding our coveted circle. No, strike that, we’re not giving anyone away. We’re circling around the new, smaller ring being built inside our own. And inside it, they’ll be safe, because we’ve spent years strengthening that outer circle, forged from the hardest, unbreakable steel.
When Dane turns to take his seat beside Laney in the front row, I swear I see the shine of tears in his eyes.
Don’t blame him a damn bit.
Who’d have thought it… Laney’s (also Dane’s but irrelevant to my point) daughter is marrying Evan’s (also Whitley’s, but again, stay with me here) son. I can’t possibly be the only one who catches the irony in that. But anyone looking at Judd’s face right now, and obvious depiction of how much he truly adores Skylar, could never deny—no matter how they got here or where they came from—they were born to be together.
After Judd gets his kiss and seals the deal, we all stand and applaud the newlyweds. And as the crowd, yes, the strangers too, begin to move and make their way to the reception tent, I lose sight of Bennett in the shuffle.
But catch up with her quicker than I’m guessing she’d like for me to.
“You avoiding me?” I move in on her from behind, brushing her hair aside to ask it on a whisper, mouth at her temple. I take egotistical thrill in the goose bumps I see dot her flesh in my wake.
“No,” she says in a small voice, leaning ever so slightly back against me, perhaps as starved for contact with me as well. “Busy day is all.”
“You look beautiful, Ben.”
“Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself. I have to go though, see if Whitley or Laney need help with anything.”
She starts to move away but I slide an arm around her tiny waist and hold her captive. “You shouldn’t be on your foot so much. They’ve got it handled, come sit with me. Let’s talk.”
“My foot is fine,” she says defensively and I can sense her putting up that protective shield of hers as fast as she can. “I need to at least offer to help.”
“Fine, you do that, I can wait. But I swear to God, Bennett. You go back to icing me out after that hallway confessional of yours and I might very well lose it.”
She sucks in a sharp hiss, as if offended. “I can’t believe you’re bringing that up! And I’m not icing anything, there’s just things that need to be done. Now go find our table and I’ll be there in a bit. It’s almost time for the toasts, dances and stuff.”
“Whatever you say,” I growl, letting my tongue tease the shell of her ear. “But be clear, I won’t wait all night.” I slide my arm off her, reluctantly, ensuring the touch lingers, and set her free.
I don’t know why I’m even surprised; girl’s her own worst enemy. Walls come down, so you get a peek at the real Bennett on the other side, then go right back up, twice as fast constructed with double the bricks. Discouraged but not deterred, I take my appointed seat at Table Four and grab the
card across from me with her name on it and put it at the spot right the fuck beside me. I recline in my chair, one arm draped across the back, and watch Bennett, up, running around, trying her best to look busy, so I decide to partake of this elusive package I keep hearing about and grab a drink every time a waiter passes by. Emmett and Sawyer come join me at the table, rescuing me from sitting by myself like a complete tool, and Sawyer follows my lead on the drink swiping.
I give a small, encouraging smile in all the right places as Brynn gives her toast to the new couple. Then Laney stands and gives her own speech, like only Laney Jo can; witty, meaningful and quick to the point. I’m proud of her, she made it all the way to the end without breaking down, like a champ.
But the showstopper is JT’s toast, not only to his older sister, but his life-long best friend.
“If I could have your attention, it’s time for me to give my best man speech. Don’t worry, it’s wicked good. I looked this shi—uh, stuff, up, and traditionally, the maid of honor relates her toast more toward the bride and mine’s supposed to be for the groom. Well rip up your programs people, cause that’s not how I’m doing it. You see, when you come from an honorary family who does everything with each other, even marry, but not the whole inbred thing, we haven’t crossed over to that yet.” He laughs along with the audience. “There’s no way I can speak to one of them more than the other. Because just about every memory I have of Skylar, my big sister, has Judd in it too. And Judd’s been my best friend since before we could speak full, legible sentences that the other one understood, and guess what, Skylar was right there then too. So anyway,” he says, looking at them, “this is for you both.”
A screen slides down behind the main table right on cue.
“Ah, phones with cameras, greatest invention ever, and shout-out to the parents who give you one when you’re young.” JT laughs. “And I’m a hella photographer, ready at all the right times, if I do say so myself.” He clicks the remote in his hand and the first image pops up for us all to see. “This would be Judd, not a real doctor, repairing Skylar’s knee when crashed her bike. I took this shot with every intention of blackmailing her later, because we weren’t allowed to ride down the huge hill on Oak Street. Which is one of the main reasons we did it of course. But, Sky took too long to give me anything to blackmail her on and I eventually forgot I had it.” We all laugh now, even Dane.
