“Thanks. Yours was pretty heartfelt too.” She smiled shyly at me. Izzy’s voice behind her drew her attention away from me.
“Thank you all so much for being here to celebrate us officially pledging our forevers. It means a lot to me and Dawson. Now before you all get back to celebrating, I need all the single ladies to gather at the foot of the stairs,” Izzy said into the microphone.
♪ Single Ladies (Put a Ring on it) by Beyonce
I nudged Britt. “She means you.”
“Un-uh,” she said. “I have no interest in being the next victim to blissful matrimony.” Her tone was a mix of wistfulness and derision.
She stayed in her seat while there was a mad scramble of women to get to the bottom of the staircase. Izzy waded through the eager females and climbed to the top.
I craned my head back, peeking up at Izzy posing with her bouquet aloft over her head. “You’re really not going to go tempt destiny?”
She shook her head. “No way.”
Izzy shouted down to the cluster of women, “Get ready, ladies. One, two, three.” And then the flowers went flying.
By some twist of fate, the rainbow-colored arrangement flew over the heads of all the clutching hands and right into Brittany’s lap.
Wide, panic-filled eyes glanced up at me. The women who’d hoped to catch it all turned in unison. Some squealed in delight as Britt held the bouquet up with shaky hands. A few of the women glared in her direction. Apparently, some people really believed in the superstitions surrounding bridal traditions.
Dawson wound his way through the women who were not destined to be the next bride. He strode up the stairs. “Where are all the bachelors?” he shouted down to the crowd.
His question was met with several loud whoops.
“Your turn,” Britt taunted, bumping my shoulder.
“No thanks,” I said, watching the group of guys gather around the base of the stairs while Dawson slid his hands beneath the skirt of Izzy’s dress.
A chorus of woos erupted. Izzy blushed a deep shade of red. Dawson took his time. Finally, he held up the circle of lace triumphantly. “Are you ready, boys?”
Without any further fanfare, he shot the garter into the crowd.
“I got it,” Wilder shouted from the center of the pack.
Something about that made me growl.
“I’m going to get another drink. I’ll come back and claim my dance in a bit, angel.” I slid my chair back with a screech.
As Wilder posed for pictures with his arm around Brittany, I tossed back a glass filled with amber numbness. I nursed the next glass as the crowd thinned out.
“Party’s almost over, folks. It’s time for the last dance,” came the announcement over the speakers.
♪ All I Ever Needed by Bret Michaels
I peered around until my gaze collided with hers. It hit me like a freight train. Wilder stood in front of her. He held out his hand for her to take, and I prepared myself to lose the last excuse I’d have to hold her for the foreseeable future.
Surprisingly, she shook her head and stepped around him. I couldn’t stop the smile that lit up my face as she sauntered up to me. Placing her hand in mine, she said, “I think you called dibs on my last dance.”
I tugged her roughly against me and began to dance us around to the rock ballad filling the air. “This is like déjà vu,” I said.
“You mean from earlier tonight?” Her head tipped back to stare at me.
“No. Months ago, you and I danced to this song.” I shouldn’t have confessed that.
“You remember what song was playing almost a year ago at Izzy’s parents’ anniversary party?” she asked in a surprised tone.
“Songs stick with me,” I said with a shrug and spun her away from me to distract her. I didn’t want her to know that I’d replayed every moment I’d spent with her or that I had this song as number one on my current playlist.
When she put her arms back around me, she gazed up at me. “So, who’s the girl dancing with Wilder?”
Her question sent a shock of pain to my chest. But I kept my face impassive as I surveyed the dance floor to see where my bandmate was.
“Oh, that’s Cami. She’s a great girl.” I didn’t explain any further.
Chapter 5
Brittany
I moaned as I stretched. Sunlight streamed in through the drapes I’d forgotten to close last night. It was bright. I needed to not forget to shut those before bedtime tonight. I didn’t even bother to look at the clock. With the wedding reception going into the wee hours, it was already technically morning when I collapsed onto the bed in Izzy and Dawson’s guest bedroom.
I rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in the fluffy pillow to seek five more minutes. The mattress was so soft. I hadn’t slept so soundly since I’d lost my job and moved back home. My childhood room was suffocating. Here I could breathe. Relax.
Before I could doze off, something warm and wet grazed my hand, which was hanging off the bed. I shrieked and jerked my hand back onto the bed.
A soft puppy bark came from under the bed. Chuckling, I leaned over the edge of the mattress and got a faceful of puppy kisses.
“Lyric, you little scamp. I’m sorry I slept in. I guess you got bored.”
She licked my cheek again. I guessed that meant she forgave me. When I’d gotten home early this morning, I’d rescued her from her crate, took her outside and then put her in bed with me, where she promptly fell asleep on the pillow next to me.
I sat up and lowered my feet to the floor. Then I scooped up the wiggly bundle of fur. “I bet you need to go out. Come on.” She responded by twisting her body until she was licking my cheek again.
Glancing around the room, I took in the mess then stared at the cute face staring at me. “Look what you did,” I scolded.
Rolling my eyes, I turned my back on the clothes, towels and trash scattered about the room. “I need coffee before I deal with this. And you need to pee.”
After spending ten minutes outside while Lyric piddled at the base of every tree in the side yard, I was back inside, sipping a fancy gourmet coffee from the high-tech machine on the counter. While I enjoyed the mug of heaven, I checked my email. There was a message from the director of the preschool Mom had mentioned. It was an official job offer. I wouldn’t start until next term, but I’d need to attend some training sessions first.
I sighed as I closed the message without responding. It would be a real paycheck. Every week …. Doing something I had no desire to do. Thankfully, I didn’t have to decide for a week.
While I enjoyed the last of my coffee, I texted Dub, giving him my information, but not holding my breath that I’d actually hear from the renowned choreographer.
Frustrated with my life in general, I headed upstairs to shower and clean up the mess Lyric had made of my stuff.
I moved around the bedroom, gathering my slightly damp clothing from the floor. Thanks to puppy slobber, I was going to have to wash half of my clean clothes. “Don’t you have toys to chew on instead of my clothes?” I asked the adorable pup who lay in the corner, looking guilty.
With my arms full of laundry, I made my way to the utility room and threw everything into the washer. Lyric trailed behind me as I went into the bathroom and started the shower. She flopped down on the bathmat. I undressed and set my clothes in the corner. As I ran my fingers through my hair, a dark purplish mark where my neck met my shoulder caught my attention. I leaned closer to the mirror and brushed my finger over it. I knew what it was. A mark of passion left by Brooks during our escapade in the upstairs bathroom at the reception. My lips tipped up in a tiny smile as I thought about it. Shaking my head, I dropped my hair to cover it and turned away from the mirror. When I opened the frosted glass doors and stepped into the cascading water, Lyric whimpered.
“Sorry, pup. I’m not into sharing my showers. And you’d better be good while I’m in here. Leave my stuff alone,” I said in a stern tone.
The wate
r falling on me was heavenly. I stood beneath the spray, trying to let my worries and failures sluice down the drain with the soap suds. Before they were completely gone, puppy paws scratched at the shower door.
“We’ll go for a walk in a few minutes. I promise.”
Sighing, I finished rinsing off then shut off the water. Expectant eyes peered up at me from the floor when I opened the frosted doors. The clothes I’d been wearing when I walked into the bathroom were spread across the floor. I cast a scathing look at Lyric.
I shook my head as I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel from the shelf on the wall. Leaning over, I grabbed my clothes and tossed them onto the counter while Lyric watched. When I bent over to gather my hair up on top of my head, she jumped up, licking my face. “Pup, we need to have a talk about all this licking. I’m not a fan.”
I sorted through the clothes on the counter, trying to find my underwear. Propping my hands on my hips, I turned back to the mischievous dog. “Where are my panties?” I looked all over the bathroom before I moved to the bedroom. There was no stray fabric in sight. All my other underwear were in the washing machine, so I slipped on my cutoffs.
“Because you hid my only clean pair of panties, your walk will be cut short now because I’m not spending an extended amount of time outside in a pair of shorts in January. Without underwear no less.”
Lyric hung her head. “I forgive you,” I said, unable to stay pissed at the little cutie. “But you’d better return what you stole.”
She lifted her head and trotted to the doorway. “All right, I’m coming.”
I tucked my phone in my back pocket then followed the dog down to the foyer. When I grabbed her leash, she started dancing at my feet. Laughing, I clipped it to her and set off to wear out the dog a little.
As I entered the house, I reset the alarm then bent down to unfasten the leash. Once free, the little ball of fur dashed to the kitchen for some water. I laughed at her slip-sliding movements.
“Let’s cuddle on the couch and watch some trashy TV,” I suggested to the cutie pie.
She cocked her head at me like she was trying to figure out what I was saying. I tossed my phone onto the table then sank into the corner of the couch and patted the spot beside me.
“Don’t tell your mommy,” I whispered as I tugged the pup onto my lap. “And when they get back, you have to stay off the furniture,” I said seriously.
She enthusiastically licked my face.
Before I could find something on TV, my phone vibrated on the coffee table with a text message. I placed Lyric on the floor and reached for it.
The text wasn’t from someone in my contacts list.
Unknown: L.M.L.Y.P.T.Y.C.O.M.F.
What the hell?
Me: I think you have the wrong number.
Unknown: Oh, I have the right number.
Me: Well then you must have screwed up your auto-correct. Your message doesn’t make sense.
Unknown: It’s a code. When you figure it out, you’ll know who this is.
Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4) Page 5