by Nora Flite
He hooked his dufflebag over his shoulder and grinned. "Brenda? That you?"
Did he know my name because I was his sister's manager, or did he remember it for other reasons? I was normally so cool and calm. Channeling my inner power-bitch, I thrust my hand in his direction. "Hey there, Kiddo!" Fuck. Kiddo?
Sean's eyebrow piercing wiggled over his amused grin. "Uh, hey yourself. I'm guessing you're pregaming before the ceremony?"
Of course he'd noticed the glass in my hand. "Well, I've got another hour to kill before they expect us to show up in the ballroom. Who knows what those two will put us through before I can get to the open bar."
Laughing so that I could see his perfect teeth, Sean nodded. His smile warmed me better than the gin did. "I'd better clean up. I'll see you tonight, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay." Waving at his back, I stared for a long while.
The bartender cleared his throat. "Did you want another drink?"
Jumping up in a flurry of limbs, I threw some cash down. "No time! Thank you!"
Sean was going to be at the wedding.
Sean was going to look hot.
If I wanted to get through this evening...
I had to go pick out a damn dress. For real, this time.
****
Ever been to a rock star wedding?
Me either.
As I strut my way into the courtyard on my fuck-me-heels balanced out by my brand new and too expensive but demure green cocktail dress, I gazed up at the decorations in wonder. Lola's taste in black and purple was... well, everywhere.
There were dark flowers on every surface, leading the way into the open air garden. Here, things appeared more traditional. White chairs, flower petals on the green grass, and a gigantic archway crafted from fiddlehead ferns, music notes, and woven vine tendrils.
It was pretty and ethereal. I was impressed—they'd planned all this while finishing up a brand new CD? Huh. Maybe my workaholic nature had rubbed off on them.
"Brenda!" a voice shouted.
Colt waved at me from where he was helping an older woman into a chair near the front. Things were about to start, so I hurried to give him a quick hug. I wouldn't get to see much of him later since he was the best man.
"Hey," I said, looking him up and down. "You clean up nice."
He posed in his dark purple three-piece suite, his ear gauges the same color. "Ah, shit, thanks." The older woman smiled up at me—and I froze. "Brenda, you remember Drezden's mother, right?"
"Of course," I said, leaning down so she could see my lips. My belly shrank at the memory of this sweet woman and her deafness. "How are you?"
Beaming, she dabbed at her eyes. "Already crying," she said, a little too loudly. Music piped through the garden; it was time.
She couldn't hear it, so Colt bent down, pointing at the flower arch. "I need to go!" he shouted.
Nodding, she settled in with her mouth thin and tight. The face of a mom who didn't want to lose it before her son even said his vows.
Keeping a happy look on, I backed away—thumping into something solid. "Oh!" I gasped, spinning to face... Sean. He was wearing a silver vest over a black shirt, his slacks darker than his hair. He looked delicious. "Brenda," he said, guiding me up aisle. "Hurry up, it's starting."
"Uh, right." Clearing my throat, I stood under the flower arch with my knees pressed together. I could smell him over the garden flowers—musky and orange citrus.
Lola and Drez weren't exactly traditional. They'd decided to just have people close to them on the day of. There were no bridesmaids or the like—I kind of wish she'd bothered, then I wouldn't have had to pick a dress.
But no, she had to be kind and all, do what you want!
There was an inch of existence between my bare knee and Sean's. I started wondering if I'd shaved close enough. Had I used enough lotion? I was more conscious of that inch of air that could have been erased with a simple adjustment of my toes than I was of how the sitting crowd was watching me.
Drezden lined up beneath the arch with Porter and Colt beside him. He was standing still, that seemed... weird. He isn't nervous? How could he not be nervous on his wedding day?
And then Lola entered, and I understood.
He looked at her in that gorgeous cream and purple ombre excuse for a wedding gown, and I'd never seen such a pure expression of love.
Cameras flashed, I was sure the media would have their hands on the photos by tonight in spite of how intimate Lola and Drez had tried to keep this event. She swayed up the aisle, her teeth sparkling and her eyes so big I thought they'd fall from her head.
Her tattoo shined under the setting sun. It had been updated recently, the castle added onto. The curling font spelled out Honesty along the top. I didn't know what that meant, except my guess was it had to do with Drez's little game back when he'd auditioned her for the band.
"She's so pretty," I whispered to Sean.
He smiled tenderly. "Damn right."
Lola and Drez embraced under the arch. I wasn't shocked at the lack of a priest—they'd arranged for an officiant who worked for the hotel. It was all just to make it official, I knew neither of them cared who married them.
They just wanted to be married.
I had to admire that.
And then the officiant passed around instruments to Drez, Lola, and the rest of the band... and it got a little nuts. Sweet, but nuts.
Normal people write vows. Musicians sing their hearts out. But what really impressed me was the paper screen that had been set up for Drez's mom. As she watched the lyrics roll down the board, her eyes never stopped spilling tears.
Even I was getting a little watery. Rubbing my eye, I mumbled, "Bunch of cheese, huh?"
Sean smiled down at me. There was no doubting the red tinging his lower lids. Scrubbing at his face, he laughed. "Yeah. Cheesy."
His raw emotion made my heart stutter.
Standing there, I applauded with everyone else, smiling at the pair as they strut down the aisle to the stampeding sound of Colt's drums. Freed from being locked next to Sean, I bolted into the crowd and followed them eagerly into the reception.
That was where the open bar was.
****
When things quieted down, I made sure to give Drezden a good, hard poke in the back. He spun around, grabbing me in a tight hug. "Congrats!" I shouted, hugging him back. I was careful not to spill my second drink onto his nice suit. "How does it feel?"
Grinning, he pulled Lola close to his hip. "Amazing," he said. "I'm the luckiest man alive."
Lola flushed, but her smile was sweet. "Drez, come on."
I waved my glass. "Well, cheers to you both. But you better be ready for work after that honeymoon! We have a tour in Japan next month, remember."
"Yeah, yeah," Drez sighed. "Let me enjoy my wedding, no work talk."
Bowing my head, I winked at Lola. "I adore your dress."
She twirled, holding the long hem so that the purple edges became a blur. "Thank you! The boutique gave me grief over the color."
"They're idiots. No taste," I said, nodding sagely.
More people crowded up, all wanting to congratulate the new Bride and Groom. Not wanting to overstay, I gave them each one more hug and retreated to the bar. The hall was bustling, much busier than the reception—I was sure people had crashed in that weren't invited.
I'd barely dropped onto a stool when Sean put his elbows on the bar beside me. "Hey, there you are."
Smiling, I shrugged. "Here I am. Were you looking for me?" I joked.
His grin was firm, his eyes twinkling. "I was."
Choking on my drink, I barely avoided a repeat of earlier when I'd spit gin and tonic all over. "What for?" Whoa heart, down boy.
Facing towards the busy room, he gestured with his chin. "Want to dance?"
Grinning, I tossed back the last of my drink. "Keep my tab open," I said to the bartender. I was living on liquid courage; it was bound to run out, especially after dancing with Sean.
I hopped off the stool. Circling his arm around me, his fingers grazed my lower back. I stood straighter, wishing I had another drink instantly. No, this is good and fun and calm the fuck down. It was just dancing. With the guy I had a giant crush on.
Fuck me.
In the center of the hotel's event hall, lights sparkled to form a circle. Sean pulled me there, the other dancers making room for us like they were leaves on a river and we were something much more solid.
Winking, he took my hand. My mouth was tingling, my tongue too heavy, but I smiled anyway. This was exactly what I'd always wanted. Sean Cooper was holding me close, his hips grinding close to my ass, his skilled fingers drifting along my waist.
The music shifted—became faster paced.
We synced up, our energy moving with the rhythm. He cupped my shoulders, pushing me away then pulling me in. His nose brushed by my ear—did he just inhale? Was he smelling me?
Like we were made of static, our torsos stuck together. I was wild with excitement, my toes throbbing in my heels, but I didn't care. I wanted more—more of him.
He spun me until my heart painted the inside of my ribs. My ears rang—not with music, but with the sound of our feet. Sean stopped me on a dime, bending me down so I was lying across his muscular arm and gazing up into his shadowed face.
His smile was gone.
His cockiness had vanished.
Sean stared down at me with uncertainty shining in his black and blue irises. The centers shrank, focusing on me. They twitched—his tongue gliding over his lower lip. I swore he wanted to say something, why else was his chest filling with air?
And then he looked away and the moment died.
Standing me up, he steadied me. "You're a good dancer," I said, panicking as I felt our energy melting into something awful. Regret? Was this fucking regret?
Shrugging, he buried his hands in his slacks. "I guess. Hey, that was fun. I'm going to try and get a second to congratulate my sister before she's mobbed again."
"Oh. Okay." Lifting my fingers, I did a half-wave. He smiled briefly, then I saw his broad back as he faded into the crowd.
Around me, people laughed and spun on the dance floor.
But somehow...
I'd never felt more alone.
****
I hadn't lingered after that. Tired and miserable, I'd dragged myself upstairs to my room. I was determined to take advantage of the one thing I had left on this trip:
A good night's sleep.
So why the hell was that proving so elusive to me?
Grunting, I yanked at my dress's zipper over and over. "Sonofa...!" Lying on the bed I wrenched as far back as I could. My fingertips couldn't get a good enough grip on the impossibly tiny bit of metal. Why had I bought this stupid outfit again?
Rolling on my side I breathed in, grit my teeth, and pushed my shoulders to the absolute limit no human should ever have to endure. I was so close, my muscles creaking, my breath expelling from my exhausted lungs.
Almost there. Keep going. Keep... keep...
A knock came at my door. "Brenda?"
Oh fuck. That was Sean. Corkscrewing around to look, I lost my balance and went over the edge of the bed. "Shit!" I groaned, hitting the ground hard enough to rattle my teeth.
"Brenda! You okay in there?"
"Yeah, fine!" Standing quickly, I ran on bare feet to open the door. He was waiting there in the hall, one hand deep in his sweatpants' pocket. Unlike me, he'd managed to change out of his wedding clothes.
When his eyes ran over my body, I imagined they were his nimble fingers. "What was that noise?"
"Rats," I said quickly. "Hotel rats. Big ones." Leaning on the door, I tried to look casual. "You uh, need something?"
Glancing down the hall, he said, "Could I sleep in here tonight?"
My heart popped.
Everything narrowed to a pinprick. I could see nothing but Sean and his curious eyes. "Sleep?" I stated, "In here?" What is happening? Holy hell, what do I do? What? What? What? This is... This was too good to be true. And terrifying.
Sheepishly, he cupped his own neck. "My room shares a wall with Lola's. If you get my drift."
Aaaaand my joy was the next thing to pop. "Oh. Right." That made sense; who wanted to hear their own sibling banging on their wedding night? Standing aside, I motioned for him to come in.
"Thanks," he said, studying my room as he turned in place. His eyes tracked to my suitcase, to my bed, then back to me. His frown stretched outwards. "Why are you still in your dress?"
I tugged at the hem. "Oh. I just hadn't finished changing yet."
"Sorry for interrupting. Go ahead and use the bathroom, I'll wait." He perched on the edge of my mattress.
"Sure, sure. Just a minute." I slid into the bathroom with my big, fat, fake grin. Finally alone, I sucked in air through my nose and grabbed the edge of the sink so hard my fingertips went white.
Sean Cooper was going to sleep in my room.
Tonight.
With me.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I smoothed a palm over my damp forehead. Get it together, Brenda. I always had it together. Why was this one guy so great at making me fall apart?
Furious, I ripped at the zipper and seethed. "Come... off!" My balance went out, I fell backwards against the glass shower door. White fire exploded from my elbow. "Fuck!"
"Brenda?" he shouted, shoving into the bathroom. "Are you okay?"
Whirring, I faced him with my chest thrusting out, hands on my spine. "I'm—fine."
He squinted at me. "Are you stuck in that dress?"
Giving up, I slumped over limply. "Yes. I am. Can you help me?"
He came my way, his sneakers scuffing over the shiny tiles. “Why didn't you say so earlier?"
The small room suddenly became so much smaller. It took all of my bravery to face away from him. Knowing he was about to touch me was hard, but seeing it happening was killing my confidence. "It doesn't matter."
"Were you embarrassed?"
I bit the inside of my cheek. Too clever. Or I'm too obvious. I was going to say something—create some lie that explained away my decision to fight with the busted zipper all alone. Before I could, Sean brushed his fingers over the nape of my neck.
My inhale was so loud it echoed on the white porcelain walls.
Freezing, Sean asked, "You okay?"
I was glowing red; I could see it in the mirror. "Just hurry up. This thing is choking me."
Eager to obey, Sean yanked the zipper straight down. It split open, freeing my upper body to the cool air. All of my upper body. He'd pulled so hard that the entire dress had split open and fallen to the floor.
Both of us gawked at my exposed breasts. “Oh shit!” Sean exclaimed, his hands held high as if he wanted to help, but had no clue how to. What the shit was with today? Had someone cursed me—was it the woman at the dress shop I'd been rude to?
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I crouched, lifting the dress enough to hide my ass. At least my panties were cute. "Don't look!" I shouted, mortified.
"I'm not!" Sean spun around, deliberately not looking in my direction. That made me feel a little worse. Was I not his type? Shouldn't he be peeking, at least?
His eyes were shut so tight, his forehead was turning a different color. I grabbed the bust of the cocktail dress and shimmied it back over my chest. I was ready to give up on the world and go join some celibate covenant.
Maybe he sensed my mood, because he turned enough to glance my way. "I really didn't look."
"I believe you," I chuckled sourly.
With nothing but awkward air between us, I started to squeeze past him. I misjudged the space, bumping into him roughly while he was hiding his gaze from me. Gasping, I started to stumble, our ankles scissoring.
As if he was worried I was about to fall, Sean threw his hands out to grab me.
His palm landed perfectly on my ass.
On pure instinct, I whirled around and slapped him. The n
oise shattered the silence, my palm vibrating from the stinging impact. "Fuck!" Sean grunted, cupping his cheek and gawking at me.
Oh, shit. I just slapped my dream guy. I'd thought today couldn't get worse. I'd been wrong.
His eyes were huge; shocked. My face had to be pure white. Impossibly, his stunned look slowly curled into the most adorable smile since the invention of smiles. He laughed and said, “You’ve got quite an arm there.” He rubbed his chin and laughed again.
The sound was as sweet as the music I'd heard him play over the years. No, it was sweeter.
I was too lost to respond. He took my hand, his grip like velvet wrapped around metal. “What's your secret to muscles like these? I didn't think you had time to work out, Brenda.”
I gaped down at our linked fingers. "What do you mean?"
Shrugging, he didn't release me. "Whenever I watch you, you're always running around, super busy-like."
When he watches me? We'd been around each other many times, but I'd thought it was me who was always watching him.
He kept holding my hand. His smile faded just a bit and those eyes fixed on me like they'd finally focused, like I wasn't some background fixture. I saw his throat ripple as he swallowed.
We were standing there in a hotel bathroom—me holding up a busted dress I'd paid too much for, him gripping my hand like I might vanish—and I had a feeling my legs no longer worked. Is this really happening? I wondered.
His hand slid off my shoulder and to my collarbone. He was traveling towards my neck, and when he got there, he brushed along my jaw as if my skin was as fragile as powdered sugar.
I wet my lips. Speaking is hard when your mouth is stuck half-open like a fish. "What are you doing?" I asked him.
Sean worked his way behind my ear, winding his steel hold into my hair. “When we were dancing tonight, I wanted to tell you something."
I couldn't fucking blink. "What?"
"Brenda, earlier you were so—no, not just earlier. You've always been..."
What? I asked myself desperately. Dammit, spit it out! I’m what?
His grin lifted up high until I could see his upper row of pristine teeth. “You’re beautiful.”
The dress fell to my ankles. That time, when he didn't look at my chest and kept staring into my wide eyes, I wasn't offended. Lunging forward, I closed my lips on his and tasted what I'd dreamt about for years.
