Ally and I were dying to learn more about her. She was an anomaly to the both of us, only having heard her name mentioned a handful of times. Her name had come up so infrequently that neither of us had expected Sarah to not only name her a bridesmaid but her maid of honor. Naturally, the two of us were more than curious about her.
My final task as the head of this whole operation was to pick the girls up from the airport. The two flights were landing within thirty minutes of each other, so it was an easy way to wrap up my duties. In a perfect world, Ally’s plane would be landing first but of course, it was Olivia’s. Not that I was shy, but I was worried it would be uncomfortable trying to find things to talk about before Ally arrived.
Instead of holding a boring old sign for Olivia, I suggested wearing a neon pink beanie. Between the fact that it looked ridiculous on top of my red hair, it was also unlikely that anyone else in the airport would be wearing the same thing. I paced just outside of the baggage claim area, scrolling through my phone, waiting for Olivia to find me.
I wasn’t prepared for the petite blonde with bright green eyes and a huge smile. She had bubbly written all over her and eliminated any awkwardness the second she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. She acted like we’d known each other forever.
“You’re Maggie, right?” She asked after pulling away. “At least, I hope so, because otherwise I just hugged a complete stranger.”
I chose not to point out that she did, in fact, hug a complete stranger. Unless she counted our group chats as getting to know each other.
“Right.” I smiled. “I think you were safe in your assumption. No one else would be caught dead in this hat.” I tugged the beanie off my head, releasing the wild mass of hair that had been contained under the fabric.
“I like it, though. I think we should keep it for the weekend.” She took the hat from my hand and examined it. “It could be our mascot or something like that.” She stretched the beanie over her head.
“It looks a lot better on you then it did on me.” I laughed. “I don’t do pink often. Although you wouldn’t know that given the number of bags loaded with pink decorations in my car right now.”
“I love pink! If it didn’t make me look like a short and stubby Barbie doll, I would wear it from head to toe every single day.” Dimples appeared on both of her cheeks as she flashed her smile again. To be honest, she did resemble a mini Barbie doll. One with a few more curves, but they worked for her.
“That might be a bit much.” I released a genuine laugh, knowing within those short few minutes that Olivia was a perfect addition to our little group. “So, did you and Sarah grow up together?”
Sarah tended to be quiet about her life before Texas, rarely mentioning the details of her past. We had been friends for a long time before I learned about her past. I just assumed Olivia must have been the one to stand by Sarah through the painful months after losing her husband and daughter. It would explain their close bond.
“Oh, no, we didn’t. We met just before she moved to Texas, actually.” Olivia’s expression turned somber for a moment, getting lost in whatever memories that had crossed her mind. “Sarah helped me through some challenges in my life. She was my rock when I didn’t have anyone else. We may not have known each other a lifetime, but I feel closer to her than anyone else in this world.”
I was lost for words. My conversation with the happy, bubbly, blonde in front of me had suddenly taken a turn toward darkness and this weekend was meant to be light and fluffy. An escape from the haunts from the past and drama of everyday life. Light and fluffy. Her mood needed a detour and fast.
“Maggie!” A voice called over the sea of people lugging their suitcases toward the exits. Ally swerved through the crowd before coming to stop in front of Olivia and me. “Is your car close? Because, I have three teenagers chasing me right now and while I think I lost them, I’m not feeling too comfortable that they will stay lost.” She huffed, out of breath from her short trip from the gate to the exit. “Oh, you must be Olivia.” Olivia’s mouth dropped open taking in Ally’s spew of words.
“I’m parked in the garage across the street. Where’s your luggage?” I questioned, fishing my keys out of my purse.
“Oh, shit. Right.” Ally peeked over her shoulder and must have caught sight of the girls. “I’ll borrow stuff from you. There isn’t anything I need in there anyway. Lead the way. Pronto, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I emphasized my nod with attitude before turning to lead the girls to the parking garage. Olivia followed wordlessly. She knew who Sarah was marrying so the craziness of Ally’s arrival shouldn’t be too shocking. While the girls weren’t usually recognized, it had been happening more often for Ally. Tim insisted she join him at public events and was the proud dad, constantly posting family photos on social media. The airport wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, where we were ducking out in an effort to escape photographers or crazed fans.
No one spoke until we were all seated in the car and Olivia’s luggage had been loaded into the trunk.
“Well, that was interesting.” Olivia’s cheeks were flushed as she buckled her seatbelt in the backseat.
“Sorry about that.” Ally apologized, turning in her seat to face Olivia. “People see me and convince themselves that Tim must be there too. They’ll follow me for hours before realizing it’s just boring old me. Really though, sometimes it can be fun to play around with their persistence but today wasn’t the time. I just want to get this weekend started and celebrate our girl.”
“I won’t lie, it was a bit overwhelming. Sarah has mentioned it a couple of times, so I get the gist of it. But it seems so much more intense in real life. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s the price you pay to be with a guy from Hazed.”
Chapter 12
Sunk
Justin
The man in the mirror, he’s not the man in the magazines. Or the man with more than ten million followers. Or the man who walks the streets with his head held high. No, the man in the mirror is the boy I tried to bury. Thick, black-rimmed glasses frame my tired eyes and my long hair is pulled back with an elastic. Without the contacts and hair to hide behind, nothing has changed.
No matter how many women I burn through, how many bodies I claim for the night, I’m still the same loser I’ve always been. Someone unworthy of being chosen. As much as people think I use women, I don’t think that’s ever been the case. Not really. They use me. Even if I allowed them to get close, to be more than a quick fuck, things would always end in the same way. Spend the money, enjoy the fame, and when they had enough, I’d be left in the dust. Hell, Maggie didn’t even need fame or money. All she needed was a better prospect and everything I gave her was tossed away like yesterday’s trash.
How can I blame her? What do I have to offer Maggie? Aside from a materialistic, shallow life. That’s not all I am, I know that. But she doesn’t. And if she did, it’s not like she would want me anyway. Girls like Maggie don’t date guys like Justin Thompson. Not the real Justin Thompson. Whoever the hell that even was anymore. Holy fuck, she’s turned me into an introspective, soul searching, pile of mush.
The more time that passed the worse the self-loathing became. Without the band, rehearsals, performances, and appearances to keep me busy, I had nothing to do but chip away at my spirit. I’m growing tired of sitting alone in my condo binging movies I’m not actually watching and drinking beer that’s warm before I empty the bottle. It’s been long enough – I’ve mourned the loss of something that was never mine. The time has come to move on. To tuck the memories of Maggie in the far corner of my memory, to be replaced with dozens of one-night stands.
Sex hadn’t crossed my mind since Maggie broke my soul. No wonder. The last time I planned on getting laid my ego was blown into a million pieces. Even after I’d decided it was time to screw my way out of this slump, it took another four nights of laying awake to convince myself. It was time to get back in the game and
put this whole mess behind me. Never again would I make the same mistake. One and dones were risk-free. Never again would I let myself become familiar with a woman.
I had my marching papers, find a one-night stand hot enough to distract me from my thoughts and regrets. Someone meaningless to relieve the tension and remind me why I love the single life. The timing was perfect. Hazed was playing a standalone concert on the weekend. Only one show, but that’s all I needed. A concert meant groupies and easy hook-ups. Selection without effort. Coach put me in. I’m ready to play.
Saturday night, I performed with a new zest for life. My forearms ached but it was worth every second. Backstage the fans with passes streamed in and my choice was obvious, my eyes drawn to the only redhead in the room. Her hair was lighter than Maggie’s, more strawberry blonde than dark auburn, but close enough to trick my mind. Her eyes were brown instead of green, but those were easy enough to ignore.
Fate was shining down on me. The Gods must have known how desperate I’d become; how badly I needed to get laid because Little Miss Red came on to me before I even had a chance to turn on the charm. Not a single wink was sent in her direction before she was ready to drop her panties. Easy was something I knew well, but it was a borderline turn-off watching her serve herself up, without requiring a single ounce of effort on my part. Any other time, like all the times before my single lifestyle shit the bed, her overenthusiasm would have been enough to pass and move on to the next one. I would have left her hanging without a second thought.
But this girl was in my sights for a reason, that may or may not be linked to missing a certain redhead in my bed. Finding another wasn’t an option. No matter who she was, she’d be merely a placeholder. Or some shit like that.
During the drive back to the hotel, I pretended to listen as the girl named Emma droned on. She talked non-stop. Every single annoying word driving me further away from even the hint of arousal. If she continued much longer, it would be pointless to take her up to my room. It was time for her to shut the hell up. But how do you tell someone you plan to screw to be quiet and let you fuck them while you’re picturing someone else? I wouldn’t call myself a genius, but I was smart enough to know it was in my best interest to keep my tongue in my mouth and pray that once her clothes hit the floor, hormones would take over. I couldn’t walk away. She needed to happen.
After witnessing Ian’s prolonged bout of celibacy after being cheated on by his ex, I promised myself a woman would never have the power to destroy me or my sex life. After all, heartbroken fools were a special kind of pathetic. Yet there I was, standing in an elevator, knowing there was a good chance I wasn’t going to be able to perform. Maggie had gotten so far into my head, there was no escaping.
We walked down the hall toward my hotel room, my chances of backing out dwindling with every step. Ignoring the voices in my head, screaming for me to run, I held strong. With the girl by my side, I swiped the key card and pushed the door open. I sat on the bed and watched the redhead remove her clothing. She swayed her body in an awkward amateur striptease in a pathetic attempt to be seductive. The girl had nothing on Maggie. Her skin too tanned and tits too large and fake. In my prior life, I never had a preference, but hers just weren’t doing it for me.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“No.” She wasn’t. She was hot and if she was standing in front of a guy whose head wasn’t so messed up, she would be halfway to her first orgasm.
“Then why does it seem like you aren’t into this? You aren’t even looking at me.” She pouted, standing completely naked.
“I want you here.” I countered, begging for that to become the truth. “I’m just tired from playing tonight. Need a few minutes to shake it off.” I tugged my shirt over my head, figuring the odds of getting horny would improve with every piece of clothing I removed.
Emma’s eyes fixated on my chest, raking over the skin bare of tattoos. My full sleeves were always visible. I was known as the tattooed one, which was why it always surprised girls when I wasn’t covered in ink underneath it all. There were large expanses of blank canvas that I’d never gotten around to filling. I could care less if the skin hidden under my clothing was ever marked. For me, it had always been about visibility. About adding just one more jagged edge to my image.
I unbuttoned my jeans and Emma took it as permission to pounce, her greedy fingers going straight for the tattoos on my arms. The sharp scratch of her long, fake nails leaned more on the side of irritating than sexual and wasn’t helping with my whole situation below the belt. The clock was ticking. If my body didn’t respond soon, dropping my pants would be a dead give away. No hiding a limp dick.
In a last-ditch effort, I closed my eyes and conjured Maggie. The nails raking down my body were hers, the lips pressed against my neck belonged to her mouth. It didn’t work. The more I envisioned, the less Emma felt like my favorite redhead. I wasn’t breaking past the mental roadblock. It didn’t matter that I’d promised myself I’d never lose perspective. The man who for so long loved women, without much discrimination, had developed a one-dimensional palate. How the hell was I supposed to move forward when my head, heart, and libido were stuck in a past I could never get back?
“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” I opened my eyes and took a step back from Emma.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Whether she wanted to hear it or not, she knew rejection was coming.
“I think you should leave. This just isn’t going to work for me tonight. I’m drained and just need some sleep.”
“Are you serious right now?” Emma’s eyes tightened with anger. I understood. She signed up for the full Justin experience and yet she was left butt naked, while a guy who was known for making hooking-up a sport was turning her down. Her ego took a hit.
“Unfortunately, I am.” Her body wasn’t going to give me the relief I’d been craving. Falling back into old patterns wasn’t turning out to be as easy I had hoped. Not trying to be a complete asshole, I picked up her clothing from the floor and handed it to her. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
It was one thing to send a girl on the walk of shame when I kicked them out of the room after the deed was done, but it was another when nothing had even happened, so I gave her space and locked myself in the bathroom.
Chapter 13
Anchored
Maggie
My experience with weddings was limited to my childhood, walking down the aisle to the same music, watching the stereotypical marital ceremony play out with different supporting actors but the same leading lady. The color of my dress and flowers may have changed but the story played on repeat. Those memories of my mother left a sour taste in my mouth even years later and a world away. They stayed with me even as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror at Sarah’s parents’ house.
Despite my mother’s track record, I wholeheartedly believed Sarah and Ian’s wedding was different. How could it be the same? The two of them were perfect for each other and the couple was surrounded by love and happiness. I had no reason to feel anxious and nauseous, but I couldn’t help it.
“You almost ready Mags?” Ally knocked on the door.
“Two seconds.” I had yet to pull on the pale pink bridesmaid’s dress that Sarah had chosen. My face was flawless following the thirty-minute session with the make-up team and my hair had been curled and pulled into a loose updo. I may have buried my past, but even after all these years, the girl staring back at me was no different than the child who had been taught that happy endings only happened in fairy tales.
I hadn’t always been so jaded. My earliest memory was of one of my mother’s second wedding. I woke up that morning believing I was the luckiest girl in the world. I sat so incredibly still while a woman with jet black hair, streaked with bright red highlights, curled my hair into pretty ringlets. I smiled with pride when she tucked and pinned flowers into the curls. A second woman with bright pink lips, tickled my face with brushes while peppering me with the best complime
nts I’d ever heard. My mother’s friends helped me into a poufy, light pink dress that was worthy of any little princess. It was the best moment in my innocent little life. I wanted to experience it again and again. If only I had known then that perfection was never what it seemed.
“Do you need help with the zipper?” Olivia asked through the door, pulling me out of the past.
“Yes, please.” I responded, taking one final look in the mirror, reminding myself that it wasn’t the same. Sarah needed the best version of me, and I wasn’t going to let her down. No one would be locking me in a room, in my pretty pink dress, leaving me alone with a brand-new blonde doll. Some little girls might have been happy with the new toy, but for me, it was another reminder that I wasn’t the daughter my mother wanted. That instead of being blonde with big blue eyes, like her, I’d inherited bright red hair and green eyes from my father. At least that’s what my mother said, and I’d give her the benefit of the doubt since I didn’t look a thing like her.
With a final deep breath, I opened the door. Olivia was waiting on the other side. Her dress was a deep wine color, identifying her as the maid of honor.
“I’m feeling nervous about today.” She admitted, using her small hands to spin me around to find the zipper. My body twitched at the sound of the zipper, haunted by the memories.
“Weddings make me uncomfortable. Everyone is watching, while we try not to trip walking down the aisle. Then we have to stand at the front for the entire ceremony. The whole idea just makes me want to find a hiding place until it’s over.”
“You don’t like being in front of people?” That surprised me. Everything I’d learned about Olivia gave me the impression that she was outgoing and would thrive being the center of attention.
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