by M. E. Carter
She nods rapidly and takes another deep breath. “Okay, yes. You’re right. Just a few more minutes.”
“I know you want this to be perfect,” I continue slowly. “And it will be. No one is going to notice if we shift things around at the last second, as long as we play it off, right?” She nods again. “Okay, good. Now keep breathing and think about that handsome man at the end of the aisle who can’t wait to be your husband for the rest of his life.”
She takes one more deep breath, her body calm, and a smile finally peeks out. “Thank you, Rian,” she says loud enough that only I can hear. It feels very much like one of those sisters-only moments we haven’t had in way too long. “I’m so glad you’re here. You always make everything better.”
Clasping her hands between mine, I smile back at her, letting her words of love wash over me. This is the sister I grew up with. The one I love fiercely. I’m glad to see she’s still in there somewhere. She’s buried under a mountain of lace and tulle but she’s there.
The door opens as we continue to breathe, and the wedding planner walks in, my father right behind her. “Places everyone.”
“Oh, no,” my sister groans. I look back at my sister and remind her again to breathe while the other bridesmaids, who continue to be oblivious to this crisis, filter out the door.
“We got this,” I say encouragingly, refusing to let go of her hand. “Just a few more minutes.”
She nods again.
“Honey, you look so beautiful.” Good old dad diverts her attention and offers her the crook of his arm. “You ready to go get married?”
Laney takes one last deep breath, squares her shoulders, and pops her chin up. Looks like my job here is done. I don’t know how she’s going to hold that stiff of an upright position. The bridal walk doesn’t start until we wander through the building and down to the sanctuary, but I suppose she’s faking it until she makes it or something. As long as she’s happy and doesn’t pass out, I don’t really care.
Walking behind the other bridesmaids, we follow the wedding planner down a few different hallways. I’m sure we look like a bunch of red ducklings. The visual image makes me giggle under my breath. My sister and I may have had a moment back there, but it doesn’t change the fact that the ridiculousness of this whole thing makes me question if I ever want to have a wedding. I can’t imagine how much money my parents shelled out, and for what? Laney has been so stressed about everything being perfect, I doubt she’s even going to remember most of the day.
Forget that. Someday, I’ll just run away and have a Vegas drive-thru wedding. No muss. No fuss. Just in and out, and maybe even pick up some tacos while we’re there.
That is assuming I ever get married. Which is not an assumption I want to make yet considering I’ve been dating Carlos for all of ten seconds. Nothing dashes a girl’s hopes and dreams like setting the expectations too high. Right now, I’m just happy with the idea of dancing with him tonight. Maybe taking him home with me. Maybe getting a little frisky…
Okay, Rian, that's enough. It’s been a long time since you’ve been with a man, but this circus comes first. Fantasies later… But keep that Vegas Taco Bell idea in mind for retirement when I need a project. Driving through to get married and tacos at the same time is a great idea…
After more turns and hallways than I remember, we finally reach our destination. We all line up behind a giant closed door, small bouquets of white roses being handed to each of us. Laney is right. This is definitely not ecru and looks slightly out of place with the rest of the decor. Maybe she’s not as crazy as I originally thought.
The wedding planner’s hand sits on the knob, ready to open the doors, when suddenly a ruckus diverts all our attention.
“Wait!” a woman screeches and what I told Carlos about how he underestimates my sister’s ability to make my life hell—it comes back to haunt me. I wasn’t just right. I was so beyond correct, I should have seen this coming. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that this is who my sister refers to as Bendy.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman gushes, throwing her purse onto a random chair and jumping on one foot as she tries to maneuver her spiky heel onto the other one. “My cab took a wrong turn and ended up stuck behind a massive accident.”
My sister looks so delighted for this woman to be here, she forgets the panic attack she almost had mere seconds ago. Instead, she helps her balance. “It’s okay. We never would’ve started without you.”
Lies. We were absolutely about to start without her. In fact, I would love nothing more than to push her back out the front door and tell her she’s uninvited. But of course, that’s not going to happen.
“Rian, move forward.” My sister waves at me so I can make room for the worst best friend ever, family comradery and sisterly love forgotten.
Bendy, also known as Rebecca to some of us, finally looks at me and pauses, contemplating. It’s the exact same look she gave me last week after her interview, and I know she’s trying to figure out if we’ve met before. “Hi, I’m Rebecca. Do I know you?”
I could tell her she practically taunts me at the gym on a regular basis when she struts around the man I’m dating in nothing but a sports bra. I could tell her she caused a massive fight between that same man and me after he chose her over me in a moment of nerves. I could tell her all of that, but I have a feeling not only would none of it ring a bell to her at all, except for Carlos’s name of course, the information would only serve to inflate her ego. Call it self-preservation but no way in hell am I going to make her feel better about herself. Instead, I stick with denial.
“No.”
“You can have this conversation later,” the wedding planner hisses angrily. “The wedding is starting right now.”
Nodding once and quirking an eyebrow at us to make sure we’re all obeying, she takes a breath and pulls the doors open. I want to tell her there will be no conversation later, that there will be lots of drinking later but no conversation, but I bite my tongue and practice my internal dialogue, hoping this time I’ll be able to talk myself down and into faking my emotions better.
Step, pause, step, pause. Step, pause.
So far, so good. Wait. I need to add breathing and blinking in there. And maybe a smile. Dammit. This isn’t as easy as I thought. I need to work on a better poker face.
Step, pause, breathe. Step, pause, breathe, blink. Smile. Step, pause, breathe...
I stumble once before giving up the internal narrative. Obviously, I’m confusing myself with so many things to think about. Thinking about nothing is probably a better move. Except when it comes to Carlos. No matter what, I will avoid looking at him. I don’t want to see his face. I don’t want to see his expression when Rebecca walks down the aisle after me, with her stupid perfect hair and stupid perfect makeup and stupid perfect figure. She looks like Eve following the apple as it rolls down the aisle, and I just don’t think I can take the disappointment I’ll feel when he decides she’s a better date than I am. Because that’s bound to happen, right? It did last week. She was better at conversation, so he ditched me and left with her.
No, Rian. No.
Trying to talk myself off the ledge of panic, I remind myself that he already explained his actions. He already said he wants to date me. He doesn’t want to date her. I have no reason to worry.
But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop the barrage of emotions and insecurities that comes crashing down on me as I step up the three stairs and move to my place. I can’t stop the heat of embarrassment I feel looking like this while standing next to everyone else who looks like that. It’s one thing for Carlos to just see me. But all my flaws are on display in a much bigger way.
My sister was right about that spatial awareness thing. I throw everything off balance, and I’m too afraid to look at Carlos and see his expression when he realizes it, too.
Also, does this panic thing run in the family? I never noticed it before, but now, I, along with my mother and my sister, have imme
diately jumped to the worst conclusions in a ten minute period of time. I may need to review my new mental health plan.
Situating myself at the front of the church, I turn to watch my sister walk down the aisle, making sure I don’t accidentally look at my date. As much as I don’t like her right now, even I have to admit Laney makes a stunning bride. The mermaid cut fits her like a voluptuous glove, the delicate train trailing behind her. Even her face is glowing, the fear and panic from just a few minutes ago forgotten as she keeps her eyes locked on her groom.
I focus on them. Focus on the looks they give each other. The words they say as they commit to each other for a lifetime. The rings they exchange, the tears they try not to shed, the love they obviously share. I focus on them, so I don’t have to focus on me.
As the ceremony ends and the newlywed couple is announced, I cheer along with everyone else. I smile as brightly as I can, displaying excitement I don’t necessarily feel.
And as I walk back down the aisle, escorted by an equally chunky groomsman, I clutch tightly to the white roses and make sure never to look in Carlos’s direction.
Chapter Thirty
CARLOS
The second I saw Ridiculous Rebecca, I knew things were shifting into really bad territory for me and Rian. And why wouldn’t it? It’s like the universe has it out for us and likes to throw our insecurities back in our faces.
Actually, that’s not really true. I’m not insecure about anything. Well, maybe a few things. Things like people and relationships and commitments. But I’m pretty confident in who I am. And who I am is a guy that has decided to take a chance on a woman who suddenly can’t look me in the eye. I’d bet my entire collection of Gucci ties that her avoidance doesn’t have anything to do with me, though. It has everything to do with Ridiculous Rebecca bringing all her self-doubt to the forefront of her mind. Add onto that the stress level she’s been under for weeks, and it was a recipe for disaster.
What Rian doesn’t realize, though, is that for all my preaching about not wanting to ever be in a relationship, I also have enough arrogance that when I know what I want, I go for it with all the confidence of a man who can’t lose. Because, come on. When do I ever lose?
With the exception of basketball with the lieutenants, I don’t lose. Ever.
And what I want now is Rian. I want to know her and spend time with her. I want to laugh with her and make her smile. I want to keep her liquored up when she needs to get through a stressful night and keep her sobered up when she needs to be somewhere the next day. I even want to dance the salsa with her. Because for a guy who has always shied away from anything beyond a hookup, I have finally met someone who makes me think more might be nice.
The other thing Rian hasn’t figured out yet is that I’m getting tired of her avoiding eye contact with me. It was one thing when she was standing in front of that church. It was painfully obvious to me that she had no idea Rebecca was in the wedding until just a few minutes beforehand. I’m sure my invitation would have been revoked if she had. Which means she was processing the situation during the ceremony. That I could live with.
I could even stomach her avoiding my texts after that. Pictures would mean she didn’t have time to respond to look at her phone and see me reminding her that I was here for her and no one else. Being announced as part of the bridal party meant being escorted in by a groomsman. First dances and speeches and all that other crap meant hanging out with the happy couple in support.
That’s all fine and good, but I’m done waiting. It’s time to remind her of what I said last weekend and how serious I was.
Strawberry margarita in hand, I make a beeline to the bridal table where Rian is sitting, pretending to be engaged in the conversation around her while she waits for the beginning of what will probably be the most boring seven-course meal in history. Seriously. How is a buffet not good enough?
I keep my eyes glued to her and finally, finally she looks up. I refuse to move my gaze, wanting her to know that I’m solely focused on her. She’s the reason I’m here. She’s the reason I want to try something different. She’s the reason I want to open up to someone and share who I am. She’s the reason.
“Carlos.”
I come to a quick stop before barreling over the person who just jumped in my path. That might be a slight exaggeration, but where the hell did she even come from?
As I try to look around her, Rebecca keeps moving into my line of sight so I can’t see Rian to gauge her expression. What I can gauge is someone in my way and now refusing to let me by. Ever the professional, I try to remain polite but am quickly getting pissed off.
“I was so surprised to see you here.” Putting her hands on my chest, Rebecca uses that breathy voice that’s supposed to be sexy, but now it makes me wonder if she has some sort of lung disfunction. “I had no idea you knew Laney, but it makes me excited that the universe keeps putting us together like this.”
I try to sidestep her, but she’s too quick and blocks me again. “The universe didn’t have anything to do with it. I came as Rian’s date.”
“Who?”
“Rian.”
“I don’t know who that is. But anyway,” Rebecca coos annoyingly, “I haven’t gotten my job offer yet, and I’m ready to start as soon as possible. Do I need to call Nancy back again? I left her four voice messages, but she hasn’t returned my calls.”
“We’ve been really busy,” is what I say. What I think is “She will never return your calls because you’re crazy.” But I’m too much of a gentleman. And I’m too busy watching Rian get up from the table and turn toward the exit. If she makes it out that door, there’s no telling if I will find her again tonight. “I gotta go, Rebecca.”
Disregarding her personal space, I move around her, accidentally pushing her out of my way when she doesn’t move.
“Hey!” Rebecca squeals. “That was rude.”
There’s no reason to respond, so I don’t. I’m hoping she finally got the hint that I’m not interested. If I’m really lucky, she also got the hint that I’m not interested in her job capabilities either.
What I am interested in is getting to Rian before she pulls that door open…
Grabbing her arm, I stop her just before she reaches her destination. Putting my other arm around her shoulders, I hand her a peace offering.
“Before you leave, you need to try this,” I whisper in her ear. Try as she might to avoid me, she can’t hide her shiver when my breath hits her neck. “I had it specially made for you.”
“Strawberry margarita?” she asks a beat later, tentatively taking it out of my hand.
“You looked like you needed it.”
Rian doesn’t turn around, but she does take the straw in her mouth and suck, hard. When she’s finally done drinking, she shakes her head, probably to clear her brain of the freeze. “Wow, that’s strong.”
“They added extra tequila.”
Another sip and she finally lowers her defenses enough to turn around. It’s progress. I’ll take it. “I definitely needed an extra shot of something.”
I brush a stray hair out of her face, still stunned by how beautiful she looks. “I didn’t think your sister had time to pull one more thing over on you, but I guess I was wrong.”
She winces and drinks again. At this rate, we’re going to have a repeat of the other weekend. She shifts on her feet and looks down at her drink, where she’s stirring the straw nervously. “Did, um…” She licks her lips, and I can tell how nervous she is to put her feelings on display. And why wouldn’t she? We’ve been dancing around each other for a few weeks, but the dating part has only just begun. We’re not very far into this relationship, but we’re both scared of getting hurt. “Did you know she was going to be here?”
I shake my head. “No. I had no idea until I saw her walking down the aisle. It’s probably a good thing you didn’t look at me during the ceremony. My surprise face isn’t very attractive.”
Her lips twist into a shy smile bef
ore she peeks up at me from under her lashes. “I was afraid of seeing you look at her. Instead of looking at me.”
And there it is. All the vulnerability that comes with relationships. The “what if I’m not good enough” and “what happens when they get bored of me and move on.” I understand that feeling more than she knows. But what Rian doesn’t understand yet is that she’s looking at this all wrong. She’s never been not good enough. She’s always been better than anyone else.
“Rian, I am always looking at you. Even when you don’t think I am.”
She crinkles her nose, clearly uncomfortable about showing so many of her feelings and yet needing the reassurance only I can give her.
“I’m serious. Do you know how much I watch you during work hours? One of the days I had to stay late last week was because of how far I’ve gotten behind on my regular work. It had nothing to do with the special projects.”
“Really?”
“Really. And you know what else?” I gently take the glass out of her hands and place it on the table next to us when she shakes her head. “I really want to dance with you.”
Grabbing her hand, I watch her face until I see she’s ready. Ready to come with me to the dance floor, to dance in front of her family and friends, and show everyone she’s not afraid. Not afraid of taking what she deserves and enjoying every minute of it.
When I finally get the subtle nod, I take her hand in mine and lead her back through the room, past Rebecca who is very obviously shooting daggers in our direction, past her mother who still looks skeptical, past her sister who doesn’t even notice what’s going on outside her little bubble of happiness. I lead her onto the dance floor where I turn, take her in my arms and pull her close, to hell what anyone thinks. We sway to the music, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies next to each other.
