“Jayne’s comments about the wedding didn’t bother you?”
Holly shakes her head, but doesn’t actually answer me in words.
“So, we’re still on with our plan? June, Romeo’s, twenty-four loved ones?”
Again, no words, just a nod.
“You sure?” I tip her chin up so that I can meet her dark brown eyes, searching for the truth.
“I am. Maybe Jayne’s reaction bothered me a little, but it’s probably because it’s been a long few days and I’m tired. And the Fireball definitely didn’t help things any. I’m sorry I let her get to me. You, twenty-four loved ones, Romeo’s—that is truly what I want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Her eyes give me a warm gleam of assurance and her shiny pink lips break into a smile. I kiss her. And then I kiss her again. I have to. It’s been too long since we’ve had any real privacy.
“What do you say we go upstairs and check out our new pushed-together bed?”
“Matthew, shh,” Holly whispers with a giggle, and motions her head up the staircase. “I don’t want your parents to hear us talking about bed stuff.”
Really, the word bed bothers her? It’s not like my parents don’t know we have sex. Holly flat-out told my mother we did the first night she met her. She had defended her own honor after a horrifying introduction to my family. I wasn’t there for that part, but I’ve heard the story many times. Many.
“They pushed the beds together for us. You don’t need to feel weird.” I start up the steps and Holly follows. My mother has left the door open a crack, and as we pass by I see her in bed with the light on, reading. Odd that she left the door open.
“I’ve never been in your old room before,” Holly whispers as I open the door to our new accommodations. Everything in my old room looks the same, except for the addition of Kent’s bed, which has been pushed up against mine. My mother has done a good job in making it appear as if it’s one big king-sized bed. It’s been made up with one large comforter rather than two separate ones. Nice touch.
Holly bites back a smile as she takes in all the details of my nerdy childhood décor. She slides a finger over the shiny surface of an old Pokémon poster. “You laminated your posters?
“I didn’t want the corners to rip.”
“And you liked Pokémon?”
“Every boy likes Pokémon. ‘A Caterpie may change into a Butterfree, but the heart that remains inside stays the same,’” I quote Brock, and it goes right over Holly’s head; not that she cares what I’m talking about. I close my door and twist the lock.
Holly hears the click and turns. “Your door has a lock?”
“It does. Does that make you feel more comfortable?” I hope it does, because it’s going to be impossible for me to keep my hands off her for two more minutes, never mind the one to two more weeks we may need to stay here.
“It does help.” Holly toes off one of her heels then kicks off the other one; it lands with a thump and she cringes. “Shit, do you think they heard that?”
“It was just a shoe. Relax.” If she’s worried about the sound of a shoe, we might be in some trouble in a few minutes. Hopefully a pillow may help muffle any other sounds I plan on evoking.
Tugging my shirt over my head, I suck in my stomach to flex the muscles. Holly’s gaze follows the V my abs make. She likes to refer to it as the arrow to my peen— no, to my cock. I try to no longer use the word peen. Before Holly, I had an odd relationship with that part of my body. We were on a first-name basis. I have since matured and no longer need to communicate with Peen. Shit, I just thought his name twice. I need to move on, or I may have a Beetlejuice situation on my hands where after three times, he shows back up.
Holly saunters over and places her hands on my chest. She steps up on tiptoe for a kiss that instantly goes deep. Tongue, suction, neither one of us takes a breath; neither one of us needs air, just each other. It’s been three long days. She tugs at the button of my jeans, and I cross my arms over hers to tear at her top button as well. She lets mine in first to do a little exploring. With a soft mewl of delight, she begins to walk backwards toward the beds. Together we topple down onto half of the old beds that’ve been turned into one.
Squeak.
The springs screech from the weight of our bodies. We pause to reposition ourselves on the old bed.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
It doesn’t matter how soft or gently we move, the old bed is like an alarm sounding with every move we make.
“Matthew, this bed is so noisy. We can’t do this.”
My bed never squeaked before. It must be Kent’s bed.
“Come, we’ll move over to my bed.” I slide over to my old twin and there isn’t much room so Holly climbs on top of me, straddling my thighs. Oh, yeah. That works.
Her hair topples forward over her shoulders as she swoops down for more kissing. Squeak. That slight movement is still causing my brother’s old bed to squeak. I raise my hips, shuffling us both over a bit further away from the old bed.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Okay, something isn’t right here. Holly gets up from the bed and I hop off, too. The springs boing and squeak in rapid succession at the movement. I bend down and lift up the bedding. Rope. Thick rope has been used to tie the two beds together and make them one, therefore, every move we make on one bed will cause the other to move and squeak along with it. I pull at the tightly knotted rope and it doesn’t budge. Fuck.
“I guess this means no sex while we’re here.” Holly swallows and fumbles, pulling away from me.
No. Nuh-uh. I already have a raging hard-on, and there is no way in hell I am going to let a squeaky bed stop us.
I scratch a hand over my head and start thinking. We will figure out a way. Whatever it takes. We will find a way.
“MATTHEW AND I went to third base last night. Hand stuff, standing up in his old room,” I say to Jayne and take a sip of my coffee. I’m still completely pissed about last night’s bullshit over my wedding plans, but when she sent me a text asking to please meet her for coffee this morning, I jumped at the chance to get out of the house for a little while.
“Ooo, hand stuff. Fun. Did you do it like one at a time or did you do it at the same time?” Jayne lives for dirty details. Giving them and getting them.
“Same time.” I usually don’t go into the details with Jayne, no matter how much she begs, but today, I don’t care. If she wants to know, I’ll tell her. I’m in that kind of mood.
“Who came first?” she asks carefully, waiting to see what my cutoff will be.
“Me. But only by a few seconds or so.”
“Did it take him forever to get off from a hand job?”
“No. He loved it. We actually did it again this morning.”
“Why no sex? Are you doing the whole waiting until you get married thing even though you’ve already done it a million times horseshit?” Jayne grunts in mock disgust.
“Nope. His bed squeaks, so we had to stay off the bed. We’re not skilled enough for sex standing up, and I wasn’t in the mood to get down on my knees and give a blow job, so, third base.”
“Okay, what’s going on? Why are you giving me all these details? I thought you’d be mad at me about last night.”
“Oh, I am mad, but I don’t know, I just don’t give any fucks today.” It was hard to get a good night’s sleep on a squeaky mattress with Matthew’s parents right down the hall. Even though we weren’t having sex in the bed, every move we made, I felt like they were gonna think we were.
“Holly.” Jayne hangs her head guiltily. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch last night. I didn’t mean all those things I said.” I wait for her to continue; she’s gonna need to do way better than that. “I can blame the Fireball, but the truth is, I think I’m jealous.”
“Jealous? Why?” My voice softens and my anger toward Jayne instantly begins to evaporate. Jealousy is the highest form of flattery. It’s what women live for—making othe
r women jealous. Horrible, but true.
“’Cause you and Matthew are the perfect couple. You have it all. And what do I have? A string of hot boyfriends and bad breakups.” Jayne frowns, a sad little pout, and I actually feel a tiny bit bad for her. Her luck with men hasn’t been the greatest lately.
“You have Juan.” I try to make her feel better. They’ve been dating almost two months, and he seems like a really nice guy.
“I don’t have Juan.” She sulks. “Yeah, he’s hot as fucking hell, and yes, he seems great, but I met him on a stupid dating app. I don’t even know what he does for a living.”
“You never asked him?”
“He says he’s a ‘personal trainer.’” She makes air quotes. “But I don’t believe him. Personal trainers aren’t usually loaded, yet every time he opens his wallet there’s a big wad of bills. So either he’s lying, or he’s one of those trust fund fuckers. Either way it’s sketchy as hell, and I don’t know what the fuck to think.” She reaches across the table and points at my ring. “I want what you have. To be so crazy in love that I’d be willing to marry a man in a pizza place and give hand jobs standing up at his parents’ house. I want that kind of love and that’s why I said all those mean things last night. I’m sorry. I’m a bitter bitch. Do you hate me?” She sits back and pokes out her bottom lip.
“Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend.” It is so much easier to forgive her after hearing that she’s jealous of my love. And I can’t blame her. Matthew is everything, more than I ever dreamed possible. “But please stop saying pizza place like that. Romeo’s is very nice. I want you to come with me and see the new room. It’s gonna be beautiful.”
“See, there I go again.” She throws a hand in the air. “What’s wrong with me? I’m sorry I said it like that. That was the jealous bitch in me once again spouting out her bitterness.”
The more she says the word jealous, the more I forgive her.
“It’s okay. Really. In fact,”—now seems as good a time as any—“I was going to ask you last night but I didn’t get the chance. I want to know if you’ll be my maid of honor?”
“Wait. What?” Jayne springs upright in her seat. “Are you serious? You want me to be your maid of honor? Even after I was such a fucking bitch? What about your sister?”
“Matthew and I discussed it, and we decided we wanted to ask our friends. He’s already asked Jeremy to be his best man.”
Jayne pushes her chair back and jumps up and down, attracting a few annoyed glares from fellow coffee drinkers. She bends down and crushes me with a hug. “This is so exciting. This means I get to plan the bachelorette party. And what about dresses? Have you thought about a color? You know I look really good in red.”
“You do look fabulous in red, and well, it is my favorite color. But I don’t want a bachelorette party.” The only other women invited to my wedding are either related to me or will be soon. Not exactly the right crowd for a rowdy night, especially one thrown by Jayne.
“Oh no, don’t even try it. You are so having a bachelorette party.” She chews on the tip of her finger, lost in thought. “I am gonna hit up Spencer’s hard. Have you seen the dick shit they have in there for bachelorette parties?”
Dick shit. Great. I can picture it now: Mrs. Daniels, how is that dick-shaped cupcake with the inappropriate white frosting exploding from the tip? Yes, using the chocolate sprinkles as pubes was an imaginative touch.
“Well, we have plenty of time. We can figure all that out later,” I say, hoping if we drop it now, we can drop it for good.
“We really don’t. It’s April. June will be here before you know it.” Jayne whips out her phone. “Oh my God, and a bridal shower. Don’t worry, I’m on it. I will take care of everything. This is so exciting!”
The skin on my arm prickles with excitement. Now, this is the reaction I had been hoping for. This is certainly a turnaround from last night. My spirits, which have been slowly trampled these last few days, finally start to lift. Wedding glee and bridal bliss seep their way back in. I can’t wait to discuss all my ideas and plans for the wedding with Jayne.
“Do you want to know more details?” I ask excitedly.
“Yes.” Jayne takes her seat and taps her hands eagerly on the table. “I’m sorry, go ahead and finish telling me. Did you use one hand or both? Did you use lotion, or did you just spit in your hand to lube him up before you went all crazy on him?”
Oh, God.
“Wedding details, Jayne.” I cover my face. “Wedding details.”
“WHOA.” I STEP into my parents’ dining room and blink in shock at the sight before me. White roses and shimmering accents ensconce the room. Ashley steps down from a chair and admires her work.
“I did good, didn’t I?” She beams. Her wavy blonde hair is tied up and away from her flushed round face.
“What is all this? I thought we were just having a family dinner. I didn’t realize it was gonna be a full-blown party.” I push my way through the dangling ribbons of helium-filled balloons covering the ceiling. “I figured we were gonna do pizza.”
“Get real, Matthew. We’re celebrating your engagement. This is huge. We can’t have pizza and tacky ’90s chic.” Ashley adjusts the silvery cloth she has placed over my parents’ dusty-rose and teal curtains. “We need to whoop it up. Celebrate in style.” She snorts out a laugh. “And if you think this is special, just wait until you start making the plans for the Chateau.”
Shit. We still haven’t told her we changed our mind on the Chateau. Part of me wants to wait for Holly to come home so I can have backup for when Ashley blows her lid at our decision. But after Jayne’s nasty reaction last night, I think it’s better if I just break the news to her myself and deal with the backlash on my own.
“About the Chateau.” My voice cracks. I cough to try and regain it. I’m a little scared of Ashley. She’s not one to hold back when it comes to… anything. “Holly and I discussed it, and we have a different place in mind.”
Ashley’s head spins so hard and fast, I think it actually does a three-sixty. Dark, evil eyes glare in my direction. I’m sure it’s the lighting, but they begin to take on a red color. “You don’t want the Chateau?”
I swallow a few times and lick the roof of my mouth for some moisture. “It’s not that we don’t want it. We just want somewhere else more instead.”
“What place? Where? Is it the Venetian in New Jersey? Because the Chateau is just as nice.” Ashley twists her hair impatiently. “They can offer you all the same things that the Venetian has.”
“No, we’re gonna stay local.”
“Local? Where? There’s no local place as nice as the Chateau.”
“We are booking… Rumeuhs.” I garble the last word.
“I’m sorry, where?” Ashley tilts her ear toward me.
“Rumeos.” Still garbled. I can’t do it. Ashley is scary when she’s upset, and I’m not sure, but I think she may be able to take me.
“Matthew, what are you doing? Is this some weird joke?” She rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the decorations. “Forget it. I’ll talk to Holly when she gets here.”
“Romeo’s,” I finally say. “We’re getting married at Romeo’s.”
Ashley goes rigid. It takes her a few seconds, but slowly she turns, pulls out one the chairs at the table, and takes a seat. She rests her head in her hands. “Romeo’s, as in the pizza place?”
“Mm-hmm.” I can’t say yes. I’m afraid to say yes.
“You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”
Again, just, “Mm-hmm,” comes out.
“Here we go, it’s happening again.” She shakes her head and gives a weird, almost maniacal laugh. “This is Kent and Robin all over again. They got married in a bar, and now you’re getting married in a pizza place. This is what I married into.”
“Ashley, please don’t make an issue of this when Holly gets back. It’s what we both want. The Chateau is great, but I don’t think it’s right fo
r us. After discussing it, we realized it’s too much. We don’t need all the extravagance. As long as we have our family and close friends, that’s all we need. Please don’t say anything or try and talk us out of it. All that will do is make Holly feel bad.”
“I won’t.” She takes a deep breath and smooths out the tablecloth in front of her. “You don’t need to worry. I know the drill. Blah, blah, blah… love is all you need.”
“It’s still gonna be real nice. Holly has lots of great ideas, and it’s gonna be in June, and she’s wants these special flower things. And Romeo’s has that new room in the back. It’s actually very nice.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ashley is now the one struggling with words. She closes her eyes and inhales. “Can you do me a favor though, before you go get dressed for dinner?” I glance down at my button-down and jeans. I thought I was dressed for dinner. Guess not. “Can you go into the fridge and get me a bottle of white wine and the corkscrew?”
“Sure thing, which one do you want?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something fancy, a two-buck chuck. I love wine, so it doesn’t matter.” She smirks at her clever jab.
“Ash… please.” I groan. “Please, for Holly.”
“I said I won’t, and I won’t. I don’t have the energy to waste on trying to get you to change your minds. I tried with Kent and Robin and it did nothing. If you want to get married at Romeo’s, then that’s fine. The girls were looking forward to a big party, but as long as they get to wear their flower girl dresses and carry bouquets that resemble the ones Robin and I will be carrying, I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she snips.
You have got to be fucking kidding me. Our bridal party of two just grew by nine people. I pull out a chair across from her and sit down. “About that.”
“No. Stop right there, Matthew Daniels.” Ashley points a shaky finger at me. “These girls will be crushed if they are not flower girls.”
Niagara Falls. I should have just said yes. We could have gone last weekend, gotten married, stayed for our honeymoon, and been home by now. Then there would be none of this nonsense left to deal with. Our new plan seemed so simple. So drama free. What happened?
The Two-Night One-Night Wedding Page 5
