by Lisa Shelby
“Did you just book me a flight to Georgia for this damn wedding?” He stops in front of me with his hands on his hips waiting for my answer.
“Nope, I bought us tickets. One for you and one for me.”
It’s clear he doesn’t expect my reply because his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.
He positions himself on the coffee table in front of where I sit on the sofa and lowers his head so that he is talking to the floor when he asks, “Cami, not to be a dick, but why the fuck would I want to go to this fucking wedding?”
I take his face in my hands and slowly lift it until his eyes meet mine. Eyes that break my heart when I see the pain that is pulsing behind them. “You are more than good enough, Liam Fanua. In fact, you are so much more than simply good enough. She’s an idiot, and her family is disgusting. They don’t deserve to have you as a part of their family. We’re going to that damn wedding, and we’re going to show them just what Hannah let get away.”
“Cami, she only invited me to be a bitch. All I am to her anymore is a punch line. You need to cancel those plane tickets.”
I pick up my gym bag and throw it over my shoulder. I step around where he sits on the table and head for the door.
“Book the hotel, Fanua! Two rooms! I’m off to shop for a dress and to mail our RSVP!”
I grab the door handle and turn to see him shaking his head. I can’t tell what he’s feeling. The confusion is apparent, but I’m not sure if he’s pissed or not. It’s time to get the hell out of dodge.
A few hours later, I get my daily text.
Liam: Daily reminder…Thank you for earlier today. I don’t know what I did to deserve your friendship, but thank you. For everything. I will need you to come back soon, though. My coffee table looks good but something is missing…
There’s the Liam Fanua I know.
Chapter 9
Liam
So far, Gabe and I are the only ones to show up to this month’s happy hour. We’ve been shooting the shit for ten or fifteen minutes now, and I’m surprised how anxious I am to see Cami.
Every time the door to the bar opens, I catch myself looking to see if it’s her.
I’d say it’s an unexpected feeling, but I’ve felt this way since she told me she was going to Hannah’s wedding with me. I don’t think she has left my mind for one minute since she left my loft that day.
That means I’ve gone from thinking about her every hour to every damn minute. It’s becoming a problem. Even distracting me at work.
I couldn’t even get through a Power Point presentation my second in command, Frank, was giving today while we prepped for a meeting with a possible new client. He caught me staring off into the distance more than once. I couldn’t hear a word he was saying.
All I heard was her sweet voice on repeat in my head.
“You are more than good enough, Liam Fanua. In fact, you are so much more than simply good enough. She’s an idiot, and her family is disgusting. They don’t deserve to have you as a part of their family. We’re going to that damn wedding, and we’re going to show them just what Hannah let get away.”
I can’t figure out for the life of me what she sees in me.
Why is she wasting her time on me?
If she only knew that as much as I value her friendship, I also have a deep need for her. I don’t know exactly what it is I need from her or when the feeling started, but it’s real, and the pull is strong.
Most of my days are spent with flashes of her dancing at Embers, her confession that she wasn’t really that kind of girl at happy hour, and how those words filled me with relief, her pushing her funny Christmas gift toward me, the moment I saw her on that damn table, and every other second I’ve spent with her.
What would she think if she knew that this is really how I feel about her? That I’ll never act on it because her friendship means too much. But what if she knew she was all I thought about?
What if…
“So, what’s the deal with you and Cami?” Gabe tears me from my thoughts.
“Dude, there is no deal with me and Cami. You know that.”
Just then a couple of insanely hot, but also insanely slutty, twenty-somethings walk past our table.
“Damn, you could practically see that blondes snack bar her skirt is so short!”
I spit out the beer I had just taken a drink of. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I look at Gabe in shock. “When you say, ‘snack bar’ do you mean what I think you mean, Gabe?”
“Don’t look at me like that, you know you were thinking it too. That is one short skirt, and she is practically serving it up on a silver platter.”
Coming back to my senses after my laughter has subsided, I put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Dude, I knew I liked you the first time I met you. You are my kind of guy.”
“Right back at cha, Liam, but don’t think you get to get out of our previous conversation so easily.”
“What conversation is that?”
I play dumb.
“Nice try. Our little Cami is a catch and you know it.”
“That she is, but she is also way out of my league.”
It’s true. If I wasn’t enough for the likes of Hannah, there is no way in hell I could ever deserve someone like Cami.
“Liam, you are two of the prettiest people I know, and I really think you need to make babies together.”
Whoa…did he really just say that?
It’s a good thing I didn’t have another mouth full of beer. Gabe and his mouth are on a roll tonight.
“Man, she would never look at me in that way. We’re like family. I know that our little family unit here in Portland is really just a big group of friends, but we’re close like family. Being comfortable around each other does come naturally, but I don’t really see it ever going in the direction of making babies together. But I like your optimism, Gabe.”
As if on cue, our topic of conversation walks into the bar, and damn if Gabe wasn’t right. She is beautiful.
She breezes through the room like she owns the place. She may be tiny, but her legs look a mile long in her tight, dark jeans that are met with sexy, black heels that have several inches on them. Top that with her short leather jacket and her long, dark auburn hair that falls around her in big, loose curls, and those slutty twenty-somethings don’t even compare.
But it’s her face.
Her perfect little nose.
Her full pink lips.
The freckles that dance across the bridge of her nose.
And, those eyes.
Eyes that brighten up my day.
Eyes I could get lost in and often do.
She’s made her way to the table, and when I don’t rise to greet her—for some reason seeing her has taken away my ability to function, and I can’t seem to move—she leans down to say hello with a hug.
My arms wrap around her back, and on instinct my nose goes into her hair, and it’s then that smell I have come to know as hers, invades my senses.
Sunshine.
She smells like fucking sunshine.
When she pulls back from the hug, her face hovering inches from mine, those eyes that look like a tropical sea I could endlessly float around in, smile at me.
All at once, my heart starts beating a new cadence much faster than its usual.
When did this happen?
“Looking good, big guy,” she says, pulling on the lapel of my suit jacket.
All I would have to do right now is lean forward just an inch or two, and my lips would be on hers. This woman tempts me at every turn and is making it hard to keep control of myself.
She stands up and looks at the mostly empty table and looks disappointed. “Is this it for tonight or am I not as late as I thought I was?”
Gabe answers her and lets her know who can and can’t make it and who will be here shortly. I can barely hear the conversation through the sunshine that has taken over my senses.
It’s not like I’ve never noticed her
beauty or her smell, but it seems every time I’m around her, I notice all the small, yet perfect, things about her more and more.
I think I’m in trouble.
Chapter 10
Liam
“Liam? Did I get it wrong? Is this not appropriate?”
The sound of her sweet voice rouses me from my gawking. It’s not until I hear her say my name that I realize I haven’t taken a breath since she opened her hotel room door. Yet I still can’t find the words.
She is breathtaking.
Perfection.
“Liam?”
I’m slow to notice but my lack of words is making her feel insecure about the way she looks.
“Shit, no. You look amazing, Cami. That is some dress. And look at your hair. It looks great.”
She does a little spin in her navy, one-shoulder dress that ends mid-calf and shows off her sky-high heels. The sheer lace bottom of the dress twirls around her, and her newly cut and straightened hair swings around her face just as perfectly as the dress does around her body.
The alluring smile on her face greeting me once she finishes her adorable little spin, is one I doubt I will ever forget. That special something that Cami always has about her is bursting through tonight as she shines even brighter than she usually does. Who knew it was even possible.
“You really like my hair?”
She nervously glides her hands over her new, shoulder-length bob that has been straightened to hide her usual auburn waves. She looks sophisticatedly sexy, and the way she’s looking at me with her nose scrunched up waiting for me to assure her I like her hair is about to do me in.
Those eyes.
There is something about those green eyes of hers.
Something that seems to be closer and closer to bringing me to my knees the more time I spend with her.
Each and every time she looks at me with those greens and aims her sassy smile in my direction, I thank God I’m still standing.
“Cam, I really love it. I loved it the old way too, but this new look is very sexy, Miss Holsted.” I wag my brows at her and then prop my elbow out for her to take. “Now, shall we go show you off to a bunch of uppity snobs who aren’t going to realize how lucky they are to spend the evening with you.”
She takes my elbow, but much to my surprise, she slides her hand down my forearm to my hand. Her fingers interlace with mine, and we walk down the hall hand in hand like an adoring couple.
“Let’s go show these assholes who’s not good enough for who.”
Holding her hand while we wait for the elevator and ride the ten stories down to the lobby feels good.
Holding her hand in the backseat of the taxi that takes us to the country club feels even better. Walking into the Red Oaks Country Club, I couldn’t be more proud to have her by my side.
We’re guided outside where row after row of white chairs are filling up for the ceremony. As we shuffle past other attendees to get to a seat down at the end of one of the back rows, I see a few faces I recognize and instantly remember why I didn’t want to come to this God-forsaken wedding.
“Cami, I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” I say with sweaty palms. Sweaty palms that aren’t because of the spring Savannah temperatures, but because of the nerves that are slowly creeping in and taking over my sanity.
“Dude, you’ll thank me later. Now, stop being a baby and just be awesome, like you are.” She punctuates her statement by sticking her tongue out at me.
All I can do is shake my head and shut my mouth.
Even in this awkward, awful moment, this woman makes me smile. Usually, it’s me trying to be the fun one, the one that makes everybody else smile and laugh. With Cami, I don’t feel that pressure, and it feels good to have her making the effort for me.
My moment of calm is short-lived, though. The mother of the bride is being walked down the aisle by Hannah’s brother, and things seem to be under way.
Some sappy song starts playing, and the bridesmaids begin their walk down the aisle each on the arm of a groomsman. My stomach starts to feel sick. Watching all of her fake-ass friends walk past us reminds me of all the hours of my life wasted with the likes of Sabrina, Raquel, Poppy and don’t forget the bitchiest of them all, Simon. He stirs up shit wherever he goes and seems to get a thrill out of other people’s misery. Yep, he is the bitchiest of them all.
If only I knew there were women like the one sitting next to me out in the world, I sure would have done things differently.
The wedding party takes their place in front of all of those in attendance, and the music changes. My heart drops to my stomach as the dreaded wedding march begins, and we all stand. It’s now I realize this will be my first time seeing her in over a year. Not sure seeing her in a wedding dress is how I would have chosen to see her again.
Turned toward the aisle, Cami is now positioned in front of me, and because she knows me and because she’s Cami, she puts her hand behind her back and wiggles her fingers at me. I follow her unspoken command and take them in mine. She casts a wink over her shoulder, silently saying, You got this and I got you.
There are gasps and sighs throughout the crowd when they get their first glimpse of Hannah on her father’s arm.
Cami squeezes my hand as Hannah passes our aisle.
When we all face forward, Cami doesn’t let go of me. Having her hand in mine is just what I need to get through the shit storm that is going through my mind. Hearing her father give her away, knowing that he would have never given her permission to marry me is harder to take than I expected. Not because I wish I was up there marrying the she-devil in white today but because the thought of not being good enough for his daughter is something I haven’t been able to get over. Hannah, her friends, and her family made it very clear that I am beneath them all.
Hannah’s uncle, who is performing the ceremony, gives us all permission to sit. Of course, my tall ass can see above all of the heads in front of us, and I get to see everything.
Lucky me.
I take a good look around, and I have a genuine realization that these are not my people. They never were my people. I can’t stand most of the bridesmaids standing up with her. They’re all vain, pretentious bitches, and I hated every second I was around them.
Don’t even get me started on her arrogant brother, Christopher, who is standing up with the groom. If you search “arrogant asshole” online, the first image to pop up would be a picture of Christopher Edwards.
Even looking at Hannah, holding Thad’s hands, I don’t feel anything except maybe a little sick. Not sick because she’s holding his hands and not mine, but sick because she just kind of makes my stomach turn.
Thank God, I don’t have to spend the rest of my life with these dreadful people.
I find that as the ceremony drags on, I’m more concentrated on the hand holding mine.
The woman sitting next to me is so much more than any of these fake socialites surrounding us.
This woman, holding my hand, is my people. She is the kind of person I want to be around. She doesn’t judge, she keeps all of us in check, and she goes above and beyond to take care of all of us in our little family back in Portland.
Not to mention…she is fucking beautiful.
My mind is completely focused on Cami, and I’ve lost track of where we are in the ceremony when Hannah and Thad are pronounced husband and wife.
Once again we all stand, and unfortunately, Cami let’s go of my hand to grab her clutch. As Hannah and her new husband pass by our aisle, I see her eyes widen just a touch as she notices me in the crowd. She schools her face and doesn’t acknowledge me, but it was more than evident that she was surprised to see me here.
Her mother also notices me when she passes by, only she isn’t so good at schooling her features. The disdain on her face is evident and something that would be impossible to miss.
Without missing a beat, Cami once again takes my hand in hers and lifts it to her lips. The feel of her lips on the ba
ck of my hand has completely exstinguished whatever anger had started to boil inside me when Candace met my line of sight.
What is Cami up to? Since when do we hold hands? Since when do we kiss the back of each other’s hands?
I am so confused.
“Well, that was nice,” she says on a wink. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”
Once we’re inside, have our drinks in hand, and we’ve found our assigned seating, Cami and her charm start firing on all cylinders.
“So, how do you all know the lovely bride and groom?” she asks the table of stuffy older couples. It’s clear we’ve been placed at one of the less desirable tables near the back of the room.
Cami is always everybody’s favorite person in any room she inhabits, but watching her charm our table is like watching a master craftsman at work.
It turns out most of our table mates work with Thad’s dad, and they don’t really know the lovely bride or groom at all. Before our first drink is finished, Cami knows all of their names, the children’s names, and where they vacation each summer. The best part about watching it all unfold is the fact that there is no condescension in her voice. She couldn’t be more genuine.
The men and women at our table are all falling under her spell and grinning from ear to ear. I understand exactly how they feel.
“Hey, the reception line has started. Let’s go. I can’t wait to meet the family.”
Still sitting and looking up at the now standing and ravishing-in-blue woman before me, I can hear myself pouting like a little bitch when I say, “Cami, let’s not. We don’t need to get up close and personal with the whole damn family. Let’s skip it.”
“Aw, you’re really cute when you pout, but I didn’t fly all the way to Georgia to sit in the back corner of the room all night. I’ve got a new dress and new hair. We are so getting in that reception line.”