by Wolf, Alex
Pais nods, and I feel her body buzzing, and she’s so close.
“Come for me, baby.”
She nods again and her whole body tightens. Fuck, it’s amazing. I can’t hold back any longer either, and I come deep inside her. I can’t remember ever making love to anyone like this before. Sex has always been an outlet, a way to release tension. Right now, it’s like an entirely different experience, like we’re one entity instead of two separate people. There’s a spiritual connection, and fuck, I might feel alive for the first time in—hell, ever.
I’m still buried inside her when our eyes meet again, and I don’t ever want to come out. I just want to stay here, locked in this moment, for eternity.
Her eyelashes flutter then a smile spreads across her face. “That was…”
“Incredible?”
“I was going to say, different.” She covers her face. “Sorry, that sounded terrible.”
I pull back her hands, and she still has her eyes squeezed close. “It’s okay, Pais.” I can’t stop smiling at her.
“It was an awesome kind of different.”
“I can still spank you if you want.”
She smacks at my chest and I roll over, so we’re both on our backs, lying next to each other staring up at the ceiling.
I glance over at her and she’s looking at the wall.
“I meant what I said. I love you, more than anything.”
“I love you too.”
She says the words, but she still doesn’t look over at me. I don’t know what’s going on with her. Maybe it just has to do with her dad and grandparents. I don’t know, but I have the rest of our lives to get her to open up to me.
One thing I do know is she’s not going anywhere. I’ll never let her get away.
Paisley
Tears roll down my cheeks and land on the expensive hotel sheets. Donavan is passed out with his back to me.
I glance over at him and try not to sniff too hard and wake him up.
You’ll never make it until after the wedding. You need to end this, now.
I want to rip this band-aid off so bad. I want to grab him by the shoulder and shake him awake, beg for him not to hate me and understand why we won’t work. But, I just can’t.
Part of me wonders if I’m doing this just to torture myself. Or because I’m selfish and want a few more days of seeing him smile.
Once it’s done, it’s done. He’ll never talk to me again. He’ll blow up and make a scene if I so much as suggest we shouldn’t be together, that we have too many scars, that I have too much going on he wouldn’t understand. I tell myself that’s the reason I haven’t broken this off yet, because he might ruin the wedding. If I break up with him now, he might not even show up, but I know that’s not the actual reason I’m waiting.
It’s really because I know once we have the conversation it will break him. He’s so happy right now. Happier than I’ve ever seen him, and it will physically shatter him, and we’ll never be the same.
I can’t remember a time in my life where I’ve had anxiety so bad I could barely function. No amount of Xanax or any other pharmaceutical could take this pain out of my chest. I thought it would be easier with the wedding and staying busy, but it’s not. It’s a million times worse.
I reach over for his shoulder, like I’ve done about twenty times already, and at the last second, I pull my hand back again because I’m a chicken shit. I need to just tell him why I’m such a nervous wreck, but I can’t.
Finally, I get up and make my way out to the balcony because lying next to him is too painful. I sit out there in a chair, hugging my knees to my chest, watching the city. It’s nice out, beautiful. Nausea hits me all at once and I feel like I might puke everywhere. Maybe I’m coming down with the flu and it will get me out of all this. I can’t remember the last time I got sick.
I sit out there for about an hour, constantly looking back in at Donavan, asleep by himself in the bed. His lips are curled into a grin. Every time I see it, I damn near break down again.
Eventually, I take a deep breath, walk inside, and crawl back into bed.
Twenty-four hours. I’ve thought about this a million times when I wasn’t emotional. It’s the right thing to do. Tate and Decker don’t need the extra stress. If Donavan freaks out it could damage the firm with all the press that’ll be at the wedding.
The next twenty-four hours will be hell, but after that, we can finally move on. Maybe tomorrow will be so damn busy, I won’t be able to think about anything anyway, and time will fly by.
One can hope.
I take one last look at Donavan and nuzzle into him, knowing it might be the last time I ever get to do it.
Donavan
We pull up in a limousine outside the yacht club.
Paisley stares out the window with wide eyes at all the photographers waiting for us.
“You ready?” I hold out a hand to her.
I don’t know what the deal is, maybe just nerves, but she’s barely said a word all morning. I had to pry a conversation out of her at breakfast.
She takes my hand and we step out and walk toward the building.
Camera flashes go off from every angle. People holler questions at us.
An usher leads us over to the red carpet through the sea of paparazzi. The usher tells us where to stand and I look down at Pais and grip her hand tighter.
“Just smile and pose. It’s almost over.”
She smiles for the cameras and through her teeth says, “This is insane. Are the Chicago Bulls here?”
“Probably, we do some work for them. I’m sure MJ will be here. You watch basketball?”
“No, I just saw some really tall guys, so I took a guess.”
“Well, just think of Decker as the Chicago version of Cooper. If Cooper got married, wouldn’t it be like this?”
She stops posing and grins at me. “You have a point.”
“Decker knows how to work PR. He’s definitely capitalizing.”
Finally, they lead us inside, away from the madness.
I think I might have a chance to talk to Paisley and catch a breather when three women with headsets rush up to us. Two of them grab each of us by the arm and march us toward rooms in the back.
This place is insane. It’s nothing but people running around like crazy, holding flowers and candelabras. They lead us back to a large room with a huge buffet-style spread.
One of the ladies turns to us, scowls, and says, “Eat. You may not get to for a while. And don’t get anything on your clothes.”
Before I can say something shitty back to her, she turns on her heel, and marches from the room.
“Well, I guess we better eat.” Pais walks over to the table.
I hang back and spot Deacon and Dexter, hanging out by themselves by a window.
“What’s up, pussies?”
“Says the asshole with a leash on his dick.” Dexter laughs. “She get you a ring yet?”
I stare back and forth at them. “You know that doesn’t work when you’re already engaged, right?”
“Fuck that,” says Deacon. “It never gets old.”
I nod. “Agreed. You assholes eat yet?”
They both look at each other, then shake their heads.
“Waiting on your women? Can’t start without them?”
Two middle fingers fly up in my face, and I walk back over to join Pais. I fill my plate next to her when Decker and Tate both walk in.
My eyes widen. “Wait. What?” I wave a fork between them.
“Screw traditions,” says Tate. She barrels past me and grabs a plate. “I’m fucking starving.”
I glance over at Decker and he’s pale as a ghost, like everything is just now setting in and he realizes what’s about to happen tonight. “Better keep an eye on this.” I point over at Tate. “The hips get wider. That’s how it starts.”
Tate doesn’t even look up from the food. “I’d be insulted, but I’m so hungry I don’t give a shit if I fit in my dre
ss or not.”
The rest of the family files in behind them, and damn, I didn’t realize how many of us there are plus Tate’s family.
Once her plate is full, her and Decker stand in front of everyone. She sets her food down and goes over all the plans. At the end she points at all the brothers. “You have one rule. Do not get drunk and embarrass me.”
Just then, a cloud of smoke comes in from the entrance. It’s Wells Covington puffing on a cigar with two scantily clad women on his arm. “Fuckers!”
“Jesus Christ.” Tate palms her forehead and Decker rushes over to console her.
I laugh and Paisley smacks me in the chest.
“What the hell was that for?”
“It’s her day. Not yours.”
I nod, grinning. Thank God she seems to be coming out of her little funk. “Okay, I see how it is.”
She smiles, then just as fast it disappears.
Shit.
We make our rounds and say hi to everyone, all the families. Mindless chit-chat and small talk.
Eventually, Pais ends up with the bridesmaids in another room, and it’s Decker, Deacon, Dexter, and me in our own room.
Decker looks like a fucking ghost. A normal family might console him, but not ours.
“Jesus Christ, Casper, need some meds?” says Dexter.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” says Decker.
“Repeat that fourteen more times, maybe you’ll believe it.” I laugh.
“Fuck you guys,” says Decker.
“You’ll be okay.” Deacon walks to the middle of the room like he’s about to give a speech. “I mean, what could possibly go wrong, Decker?”
“Nothing is going wrong, assholes.”
Dexter straightens up. “Well, now, let’s do the math on this. How many people are attending the wedding?”
Decker turns his head, not liking where this is going. “Five hundred and change.”
Dexter waves him off. “Oh, you got nothing to worry about. You know, I read the other day one in twenty-thousand people in the U.S. commit murder. That means there’s a two point five percent chance there will be a murderer here. But, when you stop and think about lifestyles, the type of clients we represent… I’d maybe push it to ten percent. So, I mean, one in ten someone gets killed. I’d take those odds any day.” He walks past Decker, grinning at Deacon and me.
Decker shakes his head. “Motherfuckers.”
“That’s just worst-case scenario, though,” says Deacon. “Think about all the employees here, mingling, attachments to the firm. Healthy mix of male and female. All the pheromones in the air, champagne flowing, a gorgeous romance story unfolding in front of them. I mean, what are the odds of a giant inter-office orgy wrapping up as Decker and Tate board the plane for their honeymoon?”
I lose it at that point, damn near doubled over.
Decker stares like he doesn’t even hear us. “I don’t care.” He looks down at us. “She’s it, man.”
The laughter disappears and the shit talk ceases.
“Happy for you.” Dexter walks up and gives him a hug.
“Yeah, bullshit aside, it’s gonna be great.” Deacon hugs him too.
I walk up last. Decker looks at me and we have a brief moment, maybe three seconds, where we just stare.
There’s so much between us, miles really. I don’t know if I’ve totally forgiven him for all the shit with the firm. I want to say I have. I want it to be over, water under the bridge. Maybe I should just let it all go, because I don’t know if they’ll ever respect me the way I want them to, no matter what I do.
“I’m really happy for you. I mean that.” I give him a hug.
“Thanks.”
“Yep.” I pat him on the shoulder and back away.
“Glad that shit’s out of the way.” Dexter sighs.
“Yep,” Deacon and I say at the same time.
“It means a lot,” says Decker. “Where the fuck is Dad? I thought he’d be back here with us.”
About that time, one of the headset chicks rounds the corner. “Okay, thirty minutes for just the brothers is up. Come with me please.”
“Guess that explains that.” Decker walks toward her.
We all follow.
“Ain’t even running your own shitshow of a wedding?” says Dexter.
“No man runs his fucking wedding.” Decker stops in his tracks. “Wait, do you want to run yours?”
Dexter backpedals a little. “No, I was just…”
Decker laughs, eyes him up and down, then grins. “Sure, bitch. You pick out flower arrangements like a champion I bet, between the Hallmark movies.”
Deacon and I are about to die.
On our way to the next room, Dexter mumbles, “I don’t know shit about flowers.”
Oh man, maybe this will be fun after all.
* * *
All the brothers except for Decker hang out around the front, mingling with people as they come in. It’s our thirty-minute break before we have to go backstage or whatever and get ready to walk out to the music.
Dexter and Deacon walk off to chat with Wells and Cole Miller. Penn shows up with some woman I’ve never seen before. The bridesmaids aren’t out here, and I miss Paisley like crazy. I hang out with Penn and his date to keep my mind off where she is and what she’s doing.
Rick strolls in with a woman on his arm who looks vaguely familiar.
She’s pretty hot, which is no surprise for Rick, but then I damn near choke on my drink when they get closer.
She has a rosary around her neck, and what the…
No. Fucking. Way.
Rick’s smile widens when he sees the recognition on my face.
“Rick, good to see you.” I shake his hand, then turn to the woman. “Mary?”
“Hello, Mr. Collins.” We shake hands.
“Wow, you look…”
Rick shoots me a death stare.
I manage to recover. “Different. Not used to seeing you out like this.”
She has on a black cocktail dress and her hair is down and wavy.
Rick gives me a sly wink and says, “Do you know what type of service this will be?”
What the fuck? “Huh?”
“Religious ceremony. It’s not in a church, but who will be officiating?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Donavan.” He tsks me.
I can barely keep from laughing, his ass is so transparent, and Mary isn’t fucking stupid.
“Such language, young man.”
“I’m going to go use the ladies’ room.” Mary excuses herself.
Once she’s out of sight, Rick turns to me. “See her fucking tits in that dress? Mother of God!”
Four older ladies turn and glare at him when he says it.
He waves an arm at them. “Jealous old broads.”
I shake my head. “You know she knows exactly what you’re doing, right? Pretending to be religious or whatever? Can’t believe you even got her to come.”
“We’re here as work colleagues, Collins. Nothing more. She made that part of the verbal contract very clear before accepting.”
I shake my head at him again. “You could be fucking, well, not the bridesmaids, but look at all the ass around here. All the interns.”
“Nah, I like the challenge. Besides, she’s trying to ‘save’ me. I’m playing the long game.” He winks and walks off, over to the bar.
I turn back to Penn and his date, who just watched everything, and we immediately shrug and burst into laughter. More small talk ensues.
I’m ready to just get this shit over with and take Pais back to the hotel already. It’s exhausting. I remind myself to talk to Pais about eloping.
Right when it’s about time for us to head to our positions, Weston Hunter and his little fuckboy partners cruise through the door.
Shit.
Deacon and Dexter walk their way, and I pretend not to see them and head up to where I’m supposed to be, five minutes early.
The
y need to get this shit show on the road.
* * *
It’s time.
I can’t stop staring over at Paisley in her bridesmaid dress. She’s so damn beautiful it feels like my heart squeezes every time I look at her. I gaze around the room. It’s covered in white linens and red roses, people from all over the world. The only thing going through my brain is what it would be like to do this with Pais. It doesn’t scare me at all. It’s like this is how it should’ve been all along if I hadn’t fucked it up.
We would’ve had this moment.
You still can.
She smiles over at me and I return it. I should be focused on Decker right now, making sure he’s okay, but all I can do is look at Paisley and have an entire conversation with only our stares.
Our moment is cut short when the music changes. I glance over at Decker and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so neurotic in his life.
I mean, he’s always neurotic, but this is different. It’s like a nervous excited. He’s practically trembling, and you can almost feel the energy coursing through his body. His face is pale and he gulps, but he’s wearing the cheesiest fucking grin I’ve ever seen.
Jenny comes up the aisle, and wow, she looks beautiful. She’s been dressing up more the last few years, wearing makeup, doing teenager shit, but right now, she looks like a woman. A strong, independent woman, and I feel the bridge of my nose start to tingle a little and I let out a little gasp.
She’s still supposed to be our little niece, not—this.
Fuck.
This is more emotional than I thought it’d be.
I glance to the right and my brothers must be feeling the same shit, because they’re trying to play it off but having a hard time as well. Dad is right in front of us and he’s beaming at Jenny with pride. Mom is a fucking mess. She’s already on her third tissue.
Decker is fucking done for. He’s already trembling, just at the sight of Jenny smiling back at him. When Tate comes down the aisle, he’s going to go down for the count. I can already see all of it playing out in my mind.
Just as the emotions are about to get to me, Dexter leans over in my ear and whispers, “Pussies.”