Resilient

by Gillian Archer

  Right up to the moment of the reception that every single woman dreads the most.

  “We’d like to gather all the single ladies for the bouquet toss. Please, will all the single ladies come to the center of the dance floor.”

  I tossed a death glare at Brittany as she gave me a not so gentle shove toward the dance floor.

  “That’s you!” Brittany chortled gleefully. “Fight for it, girlie. We could be at your wedding next!”

  Like the bouquet held some sort of special power, granting a husband to the lucky recipient. Was there anything more demoralizing than pointing out the single, loser women and making them fight over a bouquet like gladiators in the center ring?

  No, there wasn’t.

  Soon I stood in a cluster of ten or so single women on the dance floor. I hung in the back with Emily who, like me, wore a pale pink bridesmaid dress and had her wispy blond hair twisted up in a complicated bun. Jessica had been adamant that we both have our hair up while hers was down. She’d gotten so high-strung the last week before the wedding, if she’d wanted us to wear poufy layers under our dresses we’d have agreed. I was glad she’d had her epiphany today. It’d been so peaceful and unlike the shitshow I’d been afraid it would become.

  I could see the sheen of panic in Em’s baby blue eyes, so I passed my longneck bottle to her. She took a gulp of beer, then passed the bottle back to me. We watched Jessica take her position, standing on a chair with her back to us.

  Emily groaned. “I forgot to talk to Jessica about this farce. Why do brides still insist on having a bouquet toss? Do they love public humiliation or something?”

  The crowd around us chanted. “Five…Four…”

  “I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen to me,” I lamented before taking another pull on my beer.

  “One!”

  The three women in front of me dived out of the way like a grenade had been tossed onto the dance floor.

  Wap.

  The bouquet smacked Emily right in the face. She put her hands out reflexively and caught the clutch of roses.

  I couldn’t hold back my laughter. Emily looked like she’d caught a bunch of snakes rather than the rosebuds in her hands.

  Emily smiled bravely and held up the bouquet as the audience cheered.

  I smirked. “Better you than me.”

  She gave me a one-finger salute behind her back as Reb appeared between us and took her hands.

  Oh God. He was going to ask her to marry him. Here. The symbolism was undeniable.

  Reb bent toward her and kissed her hard. And kissed her. I could clearly see the outline of tongues moving between their mouths. After a few moments, mindful of the audience they’d attracted, I cleared my throat loudly.

  “Um, guys. That’s really hot and all, but you do know you’re still in public right? And we have some young eyes here?”

  Emily pulled away with a gasp and batted Reb’s hand away from her breast. He chuckled at her glare, then grabbed his eight-year-old son Tucker by the hand and pulled him into their minicircle. Emily’s face flushed deeper. She must’ve truly forgotten where they were.

  When was the last time someone kissed me like that? Oh, right. Last night. With Tank.

  “We have something we want to ask you,” Reb rumbled. “Tucker?”

  Oh, wow.

  Tucker blinked his beautiful blue eyes up at her, and I could see all the tension melt from Emily’s frame.

  “Emily? Would you move in with us?”

  Emily sagged with relief as her laughter bubbled up. “Yes.” She looked down at Tucker as a huge grin swept her face. “Of course I will.”

  “Yay!” He jumped in the air, then gave her a huge hug with his scrawny little arms.

  Reb’s arms enveloped them as they shared a group hug in the middle of the dance floor. Emily gave Reb a wobbly smile.

  “I thought—”

  “I know.” Reb smiled back at her. “Neither one of us is ready for that yet. But we might as well make our living arrangements official.”

  Emily laughed. “God, I love you two.”

  “Right back at ya, sunshine.” Reb kissed her forehead.

  “Me, too!” Tucker smiled up at them.

  Feeling like I was intruding on their sweet family scene, I retreated to an unoccupied corner of the reception hall. I couldn’t ignore the pang that tore at my chest. Jessica was married. Emily was moving in with her guy. Everyone was moving forward.

  Everyone but me.

  I still lived in the same apartment I’d had since graduating college. All by myself. The last real relationship I had with a guy was…I couldn’t even remember. There had been hookups here and there—that conference in Atlantic City, the work trip to the Silicon Valley, that dive bar in Sparks, last night with Tank—but nothing longer than a night. Damn, when did I become the queen of the one-night stand?

  I chugged the rest of my beer. All my earlier optimism drained out of me. Ugh, tonight had turned out depressing. I silently watched the couples on the dance floor. Jessica and Zag. Emily and Reb. Brittany and Stich. Jessica’s parents. Bikers and their women. Couples I didn’t know. This was why I didn’t like weddings. Like I needed a reminder that I didn’t have a guy. Clutching my empty beer bottle, I headed for the deserted bar.

  I set my empty down on the bar top. “Can I get another?”

  The cute but married bartender, judging by his wedding ring, bent down to grab a bottle as I dug into my clutch for a tip.

  “And another for me.”

  I froze as Tank spoke from behind me. He placed his empty and a twenty on the bar top, then palmed my shoulder. I shivered at the electric charge his touch gave me.

  Why did it have to be him?

  “It’s an open bar.” I doubt he could’ve heard my whisper above the racket of the DJ and the cluster of conversations. I cleared my suddenly froggy throat and tried again. “You don’t have to pay for your drinks.”

  “I’m not a hick. This isn’t my first formal party.” Tank tucked the twenty in the tip bowl and gave a head jerk to the bartender. “Me and Justin go way back.”

  Justin set two longneck beers down. “Oorah. Once a Marine, always a Marine.”

  “Oorah.” Tank nodded back to Justin, then picked up our beers.

  I smiled tremulously at Justin before following the man who held my beer. About ten steps later I caught up to him and yanked my beer out of his hand. “Thanks for buying my free beer.”

  “No problem, baby girl. You know I really thought you had it there for a minute.”

  I took three long pulls before taking a breath and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I had what where?”

  “The flower thing. You know, that Jessica was tossing?”

  “The bouquet? Yeah, I was afraid for a minute that that bad juju was gonna touch me, too. Thank God Emily took the bullet for me.” I winced and bit my lip. “Sorry. Bad choice of words. You know what I meant.” We both vividly remembered how Jessica had “taken a bullet.”

  “So I take it you’re not big on this whole wedding thing, then?”

  “Nope.” I raised my beer to take another pull.

  “So you’re probably not interested in dancing?”

  I shook my head wordlessly as I drank. Classy, I know, but the thought of swaying on the dance floor with Tank’s arms wrapped around me was torturous. I was too fragile at the moment. My heart screamed for someone to hold me while my mind was warning me of the danger of getting too close to this man. Besides, judging by the way he was acting, being with me was the last thing on Tank’s mind at the moment.

  “So Nicole, want to get out of here?”

  I gulped air and beer at the same time and promptly did a spit take on Tank’s boots.

  Chapter 10

  Tank

  I’d had some interesting reactions from women when I hit on them in the past. There was that one chick who screamed Hell yeah, then jumped onto my back like I was a bronco—if memory serves I
rode her in a similar way later that night. Or that lawyer bitch who’d apparently only been giving lip service to her need for a walk on the wild side, given how she ran away like the hounds of hell were nipping on her heels when I asked her to go home with me.

  Nicole had ’em all beat.

  I stared at my damp boots, confused as to what her spewing beer all over me meant. It wasn’t a slap to the face, but it was fucking close. I patted Nicole on the back as she was still bent over hacking a lung.

  “You okay, baby girl?”

  “I thought I told you to—” Nicole started to say weakly before she broke off to cough some more. After a moment she cleared her throat and began again. “I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

  “Turns out I’m not so good at following orders,” I said before my brain caught up to my mouth. An image of the Wastani Gate in Baghdad rose in my mind—or at least the fuzzy version that I could recall right before all the gunfire started. I flinched and shook my head, bringing the room around me back into focus. And Nicole.

  “Sounds like someone needs another math lesson.” Nicole raised an eyebrow at me and subtly scratched at her cheek with her middle finger before taking another pull from her beer.

  “Sounds like someone else is obsessed with the number one.” I gave Nicole an appraising look. Christ, the way she filled out the top of that slinky pink dress…I muffled a groan behind my beer bottle. “There’s nothing wrong with going another round as long as everyone involved knows the score.”

  “Oh, really? And what is the score? Because I thought it was one and done. So what does that make two?”

  “Two and shoo?”

  Nicole snorted while suppressing her laughter.

  I thought for a second, then tried again. “Two and then you do you?”

  “Two, then boo-hoo. Because this is when it gets awkward. It’s impossible to keep emotions out of the bedroom when you repeat. This way lies madness.”

  I nodded slowly. “I see. You wouldn’t be the first. This is why I have these conversations. It’s important that everyone knows the score. If you can’t keep it casual, then it’s not gonna—”

  “Me? I’m talking about you!”

  “Wait. What?” I scratched the back of my head.

  “You. You’re the one pushing for more time. You’re the one who wouldn’t leave me alone this morning, then stranded me first at my house and now up here in Tahoe without a car. Thank you very much. And now you’re trailing me at the wedding. You have all the hallmarks of a stalker. I half expect to wake up to you sniffing my panties or something equally creepy in the morning.”

  My booming laughter had everyone at the reception turning to look at our corner of the room. Not that I gave a shit. Nicole thought I would get too attached? Holy shit. I didn’t know whether to be annoyed, flattered, or amused.

  I settled on amused. My laughter was softer now, but still it was just so fucking funny. Me, too attached. Christ.

  Meanwhile Nicole looked pissed. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. Her brow lowered in anger, either at my laughter or the attention it’d drawn. She tossed me one more dirty look, then turned to go.

  “Baby girl.”

  Nicole didn’t break stride as she flipped me the bird over her shoulder.

  I closed the distance between us and grabbed her by the arm. She still faced away from me, but I could feel the warmth of her delectable body. “I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just…I don’t do commitment. But I can do tonight.”

  Nicole turned slightly toward me, but I noticed that her eyes followed Jessica and Zag on the dance floor. Jessica’s head rested on Zag’s shoulder while they slowly moved to “Heaven” by Warrant. The longing in Nicole’s eyes was unmistakable. I should’ve run like hell. Clearly this was a forever girl wondering when her forever was gonna happen. I wasn’t the guy a girl like her should ever be spending time with. I didn’t have anything inside me to offer someone like her. And yet…the tinge of pain in Nicole’s eyes pulled at me. I might not be able to give her forever, but I sure as hell could give her one tiny moment. I grabbed Nicole’s hand and pulled her around until I could wrap my arms around her.

  We stood on the edge of the dance floor and swayed together.

  Holding Nicole in my arms was profound and painful all at once. It was moments like this that made me want to know the woman inside. She was so hard and prickly most of the time. And I was fascinated by that about her. Nothing got me hotter than her take-no-prisoners sass and her smart mouth. She had the tough-girl exterior down pat. But now, in the face of all the love and nostalgia going on around us, she was vulnerable. The fact that none of her friends noticed or cared obviously wounded her. And angered me. They, more than anyone else, should be able to see her pain.

  The lyrics to the love song washed over us. He sang about being so close, he could feel her breathe. And that was what we were doing. Just two lonely people taking comfort in each other. Breathing.

  Because that was all it could be. Temporary.

  Despite the heartfelt lyrics inspiring the couples all around us, Nicole and I wouldn’t be forever.

  This wasn’t about finding a way. This was about two people finding temporary solace with each other. I needed to keep telling myself that. Temporary.

  As the song drew to an end, Nicole rested her head on my shoulder and gave a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  My lips passed over the top of her head in a silent kiss. “No problem, baby girl.”

  Nicole took a step back and wouldn’t meet my eyes. She was clearly uncomfortable and awkward, which I couldn’t stand.

  “So, where’d we land on hooking up tonight?”

  Her head jerked up, and she leveled a look on me that would’ve probably shriveled the balls of a lesser man. I just smiled back at her.

  After a beat Nicole looked over at Jessica and Zag still on the dance floor, then turned back to me. “We can’t leave before the bride and groom. That’d be rude. Uncouth.”

  “Well, shit. We all know I’m the most couth guy around. Obviously I meant after they left.”

  “Obviously.” A small smile curved Nicole’s lips. “Is couth even a word?”

  “Fuck if I know. I barely skated by in high school. Aren’t you the college grad-u-ate?” I drew out the last word in an exaggerated hick accent.

  “Who took the bare minimum of English credits required for a computer science degree. I know jack shit about language. How’d you know I went to college?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. Heard it somewhere.”

  “Did you go through my trash? I knew it. You are a stalker!”

  “Fuck. You’re suspicious. I’ve never gone through your trash. I don’t know how I heard it. Maybe from Jessica? She’s always bragging about you and your fancy job writing code for casino slot machines. Stands to reason someone with a job like that went to college.”

  Nicole bit her lip to fight her growing smile. “Jessica brags about me?”

  “Hell, they all do. Even Reb. I heard him telling Tucker that if he wanted to go anywhere in life he’d have to study and go to college like you and Emily did.”

  “Wow.” Nicole’s cheeks turned a light red. “Well, still it’s not right that you know so much about me, and I know practically nothing about you.”

  “You know plenty.”

  “Dick piercings aside, I don’t know anything about you. Unless you count kissing and boxer shorts preferences.”

  “I do count those, so obviously you know enough.”

  Nicole’s head tilted. “What do you do for a living?”

  “What the fuck does that matter? We’re two and shoo, right? You don’t need to know what I do for a living to hook up for the night.”

  “Come on. Tell me. You’re not ashamed of it, are you? Oh God, you’re a member of the new Magic Mike revue at the Mother Lode Casino, aren’t you?”

  “What? No.”

  “You are! I knew it. That bod
y. Those moves. Your piercing. You’re a male stripper!”

  Fuck, she got under my skin like no one else. I could feel a wave of heat spreading across my face at the thought of bumping and grinding in front of a bunch of horny women screaming my fake stage name. Hell. No. “I’m a bouncer at Lux. Okay? That’s what I do. It’s my job to make sure that the drugs stay out and the hot girls get in. I man the fucking door at a nightclub.”

  Nicole deflated slightly. “So, you’re not a male stripper?”

  I shook my head while rolling my eyes. She looked let down at my choice of profession. Or the fact that I wasn’t some cheesy male stripper. Was that a fantasy of hers or something? Fuck. No way in hell I was gonna help her act out that little wish.

  “Damn. That’s…disappointing.”

  I grumbled under my breath. Like I needed this girl to tell me that my life hadn’t turned out the way I’d hoped.

  “I was hoping to get a preview of your…talent. But maybe you just need practice. Tell me, do you own a thong?”

  “Oh my fucking god.” My shoulders shook with my silent laughter. Just when I thought I knew which way she was going, she zagged. “No, I don’t own a fucking thong.”

  “Too bad. Maybe I’ll get you one for Christmas. In the meantime I’ll help you work on your basic stripping routine. Do you have any tear-away pants?”

  For the first time in my life, I was laughing while sporting an erection. What was it about this woman? She was smart, funny, sexy as hell, and too fucking good for an asshole like me.

  Just then the DJ asked for everyone’s attention in sending the bride and groom off. We silently watched Jessica and Zag leave the dance floor. Then, after a quiet moment with their baby, Harley, and Jessica’s parents, Zag and Jessica left the ballroom to the sound of catcalls, whistles, and cheers.

  Then Nicole turned to me with a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there minutes ago. A light I realized with a sinking heart that I put there. Fuck. Me.

  She smiled up at me. “You ready to get out of here?”