by CY Jones
Thinking of him, I remember the wedding invitation that arrived in the mail a couple of weeks ago. I can’t believe my elusive brother is getting married. As a self-made millionaire, it’s very hard for him to trust women since mostly gold diggers go after him. The once eligible bachelor was always pictured in magazines with a new flame on his arm, which never lasted past the first date. When the wedding invitation arrived, I thought it was a joke and had to call to talk to the man himself to confirm. I still can’t believe it and need to see this Paige person myself. Stalking her web page isn’t enough. I need to make sure she’s the real deal. With that in mind, I gather my stuff and throw it in my bag. On my way out of the building, I put in a request to start my vacation early. I was supposed to leave next week for the wedding, but with everything going on, it’s best for everyone that I leave right away. If I stay here, I might go on a murdering spree. Orange is not my favorite color nor do I do group showers, unless it’s with my own personal harem.
Wedding
Justin
I’m trying to be strong and not let it show how hard it is for me to be here, watching the woman I love more than anything in this world get married to someone else. Each beat of pain I feel is all my fault. I have no one to blame but myself. I’m the one who had everything and I literally and figuratively fucked it all away. Paige was my highschool sweetheart, my end game, and I pissed it all away by allowing my addiction to take over, and I carelessly cheated on her and not just the time when she caught me either. There were many women, none who could ever hold a candle to her. None as beautiful as she, especially right fucking now as she stands confidently at the altar with nothing but certainty in her eyes as she pledges herself to Harrison Hartford.
I should hate the guy. After all, he’s stealing away what was once mine, but I can’t find it in me to show him any ill will. He was there for her when I hurt her. When she was in danger, he was the one who burst in like a knight in shining armor and saved her. When she was on the brink of death, he was the one who sat vigilantly at her bedside until she opened those pretty blue eyes to the world again. He nursed her back to health, healed her heart when I shattered it, and glued the pieces back together again until it shined brighter than it had ever before. He is the better man, but even though I acknowledge that fact, know it deep in my soul, I still hurt. Without Paige, I’m a broken man.
When she kisses him, solidifying her pledge to him forever, I have to look away. I don’t have the strength to see it through, and it isn’t until the guests start to stand do I look their way again. Hand in hand, they walk down the aisle with a look of pure bliss plastered on their faces. Their love is evident, and when I’m ready to admit it to myself, she looks way happier than she did when she married me.
“Wasn’t the ceremony just beautiful?” my mother gushes beside me. I stand, helping her up to delay my answer.
“It was,” I finally answer.
I’m surprised she wanted to sit beside me. She didn’t let it show while Paige and I were separated, but she was really disappointed at my actions, even more so later when Paige began to date again. Both our moms are friends and they wanted us to get back together. My mother saw my addiction for what it was after I finally broke down and told her the truth about myself, and she stepped up to help me through it, while Paige’s mother, who did not know all the facts, turned against her own daughter. I never asked her to be Team Justin, but that’s what happened. And while I was in rehab for my sex addiction, she ended up driving the wedge between them even farther by singing my praises.
I had a goal when I was released. It was the only thing that got me through the program. I planned on telling Paige everything. My addiction, how long I had it, and what it was like going through it while we were married. I wanted to have an explanation she’d accept and then let her know how I truly felt about her, but I was too late. By the time I got myself semi-clean, because let’s face it, an addiction isn’t going to be totally gone just because you completed rehab, the real test begins out in the real world with real life experiences testing your resolve, she had already pulled herself out of her depression and started the steps to move on without me. Now here I am, an empty man, watching her march off in marital bliss. I’ll never be complete again. I’ll never find a woman like Paige who can make me want to change. It doesn’t matter if I ever get cured when she’s the one my soul wants to be with.
“Do you want me to give you a lift to the reception?” I ask once the crowd starts to clear from seeing the happy couple off.
“No, Rosy is driving me. Plus, I don’t want you to worry about having to take me home early when I get tired.”
“It’s no problem, Mom. I’m probably not staying long myself.” Her eyes, just like mine, look sad. As much as I try to hide it, I can’t fool my mother with how much I’m hurting. Since getting out of rehab, I haven’t been intimate with anyone, been on a date, nothing. I get up, get dressed in expensive suits, plaster on a fake smile all day around my clients, go home to a big empty house alone, drink until I pass out, and start all over doing the same pattern. I’m not living, I’m just surviving.
“You should stay. Maybe you’ll even meet someone,” she adds hopefully. “Weddings are the ideal place to pick up single women.”
At that, I smile. “Who has been filling your head with such nonsense?”
“It’s true,” she insists. “I saw it on a soap opera. You know those are like real life just televised.”
“Mom,” I groan. “Not even reality TV is real. You need to stop taking that crap seriously.
“Mark my words, Justin. The perfect girl is going to knock you off your feet and when she does, she’ll tell you she attended this wedding.”
“Okay, Mom,” I agree just to placate her before she decides to get Paige’s mom’s opinion, embarrassing me further. Placing my palm on her back, I gently urge her to move faster toward Paige’s mother’s car. With the windows rolled down, Rose has been patiently waiting for my mom with the car running. When we get there, I help Mom inside and close the door behind her before giving a wave as Rose drives off. My crazy mother, but you got to love her.
Brooklyn
I hate to admit it, but my brother really did find the love of his life. His and Paige’s relationship is one of those overly lovey-dovey relationships we cynical women love to hate. My eyes burn every time I see them together, sucking at each other’s faces and believe me, there’s a lot of that. My plan was to come here and expose Paige as a gold digger in a bubblegum pink disguise. Show my brother that we Hartford’s are hopeless in love and it’s better off to cage our hearts and let our private parts have free reign without getting any feelings involved, but I hit a snag during Operation Get That Skank when I somehow became Paige’s friend. Don’t ask me how or when, but I ended up liking Paige and could actually see us as besties.
As a former woman scorned, she’s so damn likable, it makes me want to pull out her pretty pink locks and then beg her for forgiveness afterwards. My body is at war between wanting to kill her for taking away my brother and kissing her because she’s totally my girl crush, like Katy Perry’s I kissed a girl and I liked it material. Me walking into her being bent over on the kitchen table by my brother will forever be embedded into my spank bank. However, it goes without saying, I’ll edit out my brother’s face and copy and paste in my celebrity crush Ryan Reynolds.
What? He’s hot. Even with the Deadpool costume on.
Although I’m surrounded by people, I feel so alone. I may be the sister of the groom, but besides Paige introducing me to a couple of her friends, no one has walked up to me of their own volition to talk. It’s not like I don’t know why, and no, it’s not because no one is interested. I’ve caught five guys looking at my chest and two more staring longingly at my ass. I may be short, but I know I look damn good in my cream Alexander McQueen drape dress and spike designer heels. The problem is my body language right now screams ‘don’t talk to me’.
I ran fro
m New York looking for space. For a short time, I wanted to forget my problems, and yeah, it may have been childish, but I left my fiancé behind without a word. Okay, that’s not true. I may have taken a black permanent marker and drew a giant dick on our spotless white waterfall island with an evil emoji complete with horns and an arrow that points to said devil’s face with the words ‘I’m a dick’. And to leave no confusion of who I’m talking about, I wrote his name above the evil emoji in capital letters.
Hey! Don’t judge me.
Andrew’s stupid face has been all over the news, social media, everything. Him and his exclusive interview with the senator. The reply after the interview was instantaneous, immediately catapulting him into legend status. I hate him. He’s a liar and a dream stealer. If not that, he’s definitely a pussy, too much of a coward to speak up for the woman he so-called loves to his father. Yes, you heard me right. Our asshat of a CEO is Andrew’s father. He could have helped me, but he chose to sit back with fogged glasses, following along like a good son. A fucking drone. He used to be my Superman. Now, he’s nothing to me but a poop emoji.
You’d think with the vandalism and all his brains, he’d be smart enough to leave me alone, but nooo, not him. I had to get engaged to an idiot. He’s been calling me non-stop, leaving behind a million text messages after he filled up my voicemail. I don’t know when he’ll get a clue. Hell, I even Blue's Clues, paw-printed one for him, alongside a video of me barbecuing my engagement ring on my brother’s grill. If that doesn’t scream ‘we’re over’, I don’t know what will.
“Is this seat taken?” a deep voice asks and I look up just to get blindsided by the most beautiful man on the face of this earth. Holy Greek god, I mumble as my eyes make a slow trail down the stranger’s body. Starting with his lush sandy brown hair then moving on to his jade green eyes with flecks of gold, full lips, and a bone structure that is just too damn perfect to be real. Under the expensive suit, I’m certain he has one of those bodies you want to lick all over and growl mine every time a chick looks his way. Long legs and shiny polished Italian shoes, which probably cost as much as my dress. He is fucking gorgeous, which immediately makes me suspicious. He’s like a mirage in an endless scorching hot desert.
“Excuse me?” he says, arching his brow and I realize I probably said something embarrassing. Did he hear me mind fuck his body?
“No… no one is sitting here. I think everyone is scared of me or something. Maybe I smell. Do I smell?” I ask and, holy sweet chocolate, he smiles. This man should be illegal.
Sitting right next to me, he leans in and sniffs me and I clench my legs together, turned the fuck on. Holy Batman. Superman can take a hike. I’m sure The Dark Knight can do it better. “No, you don’t stink. In fact, you smell really good. Intoxicating actually.”
“Good to know,” I murmur, completely focused on his lips.
“I’m Justin, and you are?” he asks, holding out his hand.
Justin? Why does that name sound familiar? Who knows. Maybe Paige introduced me to him, but I’m sure if she did, I’d remember this hottie. Hell, if he’s available, why isn’t she marrying him and not my brother? He must be gay or something like her hot bestie Chaz. Men as fine as them, make me want to trade my tits in for a long hard cock.
“I’m Brooklyn,” I answer, realizing I’ve been rambling on in my head far longer than appropriate. I tell you I’m like that chick on Doom Squad and got like five different personalities swimming around in my head. And just like her, I’ve named them all. There’s me, plain ole Brooklyn. Sex kitten Shelly, she goes hand in hand with Gladis and likes to take my sex drive to a whole new level. Bat shit crazy Gloria. That bitch is where I get most of my recklessness from. Logical choice Sophia, she keeps me out of jail. And lastly, probably the most frightening, is fuck it Nancy. She likes to hang out way too much with Gloria for my liking. With her, poor Sophia is always silenced and chaos always ensues.
“Brooklyn, nice name. Are you from New York?”
“No, I’m from Cali, but I do currently live in New York. Maybe it’s the name that drew me to the city.”
“I’ve never seen you before. Who do you know, the bride or groom?” he inquires.
“Groom, and you?” I ask equally curious.
“Bride.” He somewhat growls that, and I briefly wonder what kind of relationship he and Paige had. It couldn’t have been too bad if she invited him to her wedding. Lifting my eyes, I catch the curious glances of the other party guests. Along with the men sizing up my body, a lot of women are shooting glances this way as well. It doesn’t take a genius to guess it’s the hottie sitting next to me they’re looking at, but the looks on their faces confuse me. They range from arousal to anger to pity if I’m guessing right, which is crazy. Why would people pity anyone who looks like him? Maybe it’s me they pity 'cause I’m not hiding I’m interested and he’s probably unattainable. I’m sure he's like a pretty bubble that’ll poof away without a trace any second now.
When he looks up to see what has my attention and notices all the women staring at him, he blushes and turns away quickly, which is so damn cute. Now I really want to lick him. A long strip up his cheek right in front of all these people, staking my claim. When I catch myself leaning forward, I have to grab a hold of Gloria’s reins and hold her back. I don’t think my brother would like me to cause a scene by licking one of his guests.
“I’d like to confess something,” he says suddenly.
Please, don’t say you’re gay. Please, don’t say you’re gay, I chant in my head before plastering a fake smile and replying, “Oh, what’s that?”
“I asked to sit here because you were shooting pretty loud ‘fuck off’ vibes and your resting bitch face is effectively keeping the fray away. I really wanted to be left alone and this is the first reprieve I’ve had all night. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”
“No worries, Justin. You look like someone kicked your dog, so I’m glad I can help. No one did that, did they? You know… kick your dog? If they did, I’ll gladly kick their ass for you.”
“No,” he chuckles. "I don’t have a dog.”
“Oh. Well, are you gay? Married? What’s your story? Why do you hold so much sadness in those pretty eyes of yours?”
“That’s a heavy topic, something I’d like to avoid if that’s alright with you, and no, I’m not gay or married. What about you? Why are you here alone? You’re gorgeous. I couldn’t imagine you being single. Is that the reason why you’re putting fuck off vibes out in the atmosphere?”
“My story is kinda complicated as well, and I’m not sure what I am. Single is an option.”
“An option? How do you not know if you’re single or not?” he asks, laughter mixed with curiosity dancing in his eyes.
“Because I don’t. I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” At that moment, my cell decides to ring. As I pull it from my purse, I see the name Daddy’s Little Cocksucker flash on the screen and growl before aggressively shoving my phone back in my bag.
“Why don’t I get us both a drink? You look like you could use one,” he volunteers, still looking amused.
“Would you? I’d forever be in your debt.”
Nodding, he stands and walks toward the open bar. As soon as his seat is vacant, some dude, who must have found where he left his balls, comes strutting over like a peacock and I shut him down before he can even start. “I have multiple personalities. One of which thinks we are a lesbian. There just isn’t room in my life for one more,” I tell him, and he about faces right outta here. Another guy stands with intentions to walk over when the peacock dude halts him by grabbing his arm and whispers in his ear. I watch fascinated as the guy’s eyes gradually widen before he sits right back down and looks away. Good boy. Maybe they’ll all stay away.
“What was that about?” Justin asks, taking his seat with a bottle of champagne in one hand and two wine glasses in the other.
“Oh, nothing,” I sing.
“With you, I doubt
that, but I’ll let it slide.”
“Aww, you think you know me now. What if I told you I have five different personalities living inside me, each with their own name?”
“Really?” He frowns. “Okay, well, hi everyone. Nice to meet you all,” he replies without missing a beat and I nearly choke on my spit. He pats me on my back and I try to pull myself together, sure I’m making a scene. If Harrison hadn’t already left with Paige on their weekend getaway, he’d be stomping over here like Bigfoot to check up on me. He enjoys playing the big brother card and is crazy scary when he wants to be. Thinking back on it, now I can smile at the hell he put Andrew through.
“Are you okay?” he asks, truly concerned.
“Yeah. Shit, dude, you surprised me. I’d expected you to run off like any sane person would do.”
“I guess I’m not sane.”
“Clearly,” I reply, sitting up.
After making sure I was fine, he popped the cork on the champagne bottle. I watch the golden bubbly liquid with rapt interest as he fills both glasses to the very top. Then he hands me a glass and holds his out for a toast. “Sane is overrated,” he spouts and I clink my glass with his agreeing full-heartedly.
“It really is,” I chime.
2
One Night, Oh No
When I wake the next morning, my head is spinning like the poor sap left by themselves on the tilt-o-whirl as it goes haywire. Fucking hell. How much did I drink last night? I try to sit up, but my body seems to be stuck underneath something holding me down. Did I make it back to Harrison’s? Shit, maybe I’m cuffed in someone’s sex dungeon. “No, Shelly, that doesn’t sound like a good time,” I chastise my little sex kitten as she relishes at the thought. Blinking my eyes open, it takes a second for them to clear as I rub the crust away. I try sitting up again, this time with more force. Whatever was holding me slides down my body and pools in my lap.