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Western Waves

Page 7

by Brittainy Cherry


  Aaliyah already looked as if she was seconds away from bursting into tears. Her kind heart always lived in the viewpoint of her brown eyes. Kind of like Stella’s. Not that I was learning anything about her heart or kindness. It was just something I noticed.

  Aaliyah smiled so big that I felt the warmth. She was already looking like a mother. She pulled me into a hug because she knew how much I needed it.

  “I’m sorry this is all happening in a whirl spin,” she whispered to me. “I know you and Connor have a more brotherish relationship, but if you need a sister to talk to, I’m here for you.”

  “I’m good.”

  She pulled back and placed her hands on my shoulders for a second, clearly not believing me but allowing me the space to tell my lie.

  “I’ll get the suitcases,” Connor said.

  “You didn’t even ask him if we’re allowed to stay here, Connor,” Aaliyah argued. She turned to me ruefully. “I told him we should get a hotel. I know you’re already overwhelmed and—”

  “It’s fine. I told Stella there was a good chance you were going to visit. I asked if it was all right, and she agreed. I already have your room picked out.”

  “See, Red! It’s perfect,” Connor said, using his wife’s nickname. She was his Little Red Riding Hood, he was her Captain America, and their love was almost nauseating. “Now that we got that out of the way, I’ll get the suitcases.”

  “I’ll help,” Aaliyah said, taking one step toward the car.

  “Don’t you dare!” Connor and I said in unison, looking at Aaliyah as if she were insane.

  She laughed. “I’m pregnant, not handicapped, you guys. I can pick up a suitcase.”

  “Not on our watch,” I said, nodding toward the house. “Wait over there.”

  She did as I said. Connor and I grabbed their suitcases, and we met her at the front of the house.

  “Dang, Damian. When you said this place was nice on our last call, you didn’t mention it was this nice,” Connor said, shaking his head in disbelief at the house. I couldn’t blame him for his shock because I felt the same way when I first saw it.

  “It’s all right,” I said, acting as if it wasn’t impressive at all. I had to do that to keep myself distant from this whole fake reality. It was the only way I was going to stay sane. This whole arrangement was fiction, and I didn’t like to live in fairy tales.

  I still couldn’t wrap my head around the whole situation at hand, the fact that I’d be getting married to a stranger tomorrow. I still didn’t even understand why I had to marry Stella at all. Nothing was adding up, and I was getting damn migraines trying to make it all make sense.

  “So”—Aaliyah smiled, breaking me from my gloom and doom thoughts—“when can I meet the bride?”

  The two women hit it off instantly. It wasn’t shocking. Aaliyah was the kind of person who made everyone feel at home. Even jerks like me. I wasn’t sure why Stella meeting Aaliyah made me uncomfortable. It was as if my real world was intermixing with some fantasy. I felt like I was in the middle of a fever dream.

  Stella smiled as Aaliyah spoke to her, and the more words Aaliyah gave, the less tense Stella grew. I’d watched her agitated body relax as Aaliyah whispered her way. She’d been stressed since we’d moved in together, and I couldn’t blame her. I had a way of studying people, and even though I didn’t care about Stella on the whole, I’d picked up a few cues.

  There was a lightness to her as she spoke to Aaliyah, and she gave relaxed and genuine smiles.

  They kept talking, and I wished I could’ve been a damn fly on one of their shoulders. Then they embraced one another. Stella whispered thank you to Aaliyah, and Aaliyah squeezed her tighter. I’d been on the receiving side of Aaliyah’s hug. That encirclement could make any human feel protected.

  After they let go of one another, Stella looked up in my direction and caught my stare. The smile she shared with Aaliyah transferred over to me before she turned and went in the opposite direction. Aaliyah looked up and began walking toward me. She had that pregnancy glow to her. Even though she was only a few months along, I was already certain she’d been the best mother to that child. There wasn’t a lot in life that I’d ever got excited for, but I knew if anyone deserved to be a mother, it was Aaliyah. And if anyone was meant to be a father, it was Connor. They were the type of parents I used to pretend I’d had as a kid.

  At least somebody was going to get the dream of mine that never came true.

  “She’s so sweet,” Aaliyah said, smiling my way.

  I huffed. “You don’t even know her.”

  “Some people you can read from just a small conversation.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “It’s a secret between two women.”

  “Did you talk about the wedding?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she tell you how she was feeling?”

  “Also yes.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. She shook her head, saying she wouldn’t tell me.

  I ran my hand down my face in irritation. “I like to know what to expect.”

  “You can’t always know how things will turn out ahead of time, Damian. Sometimes you just have to trust the process.”

  “I’ve got trust issues.”

  She smiled that nice grin that Aaliyah always had. “You’re nervous. Don’t worry, she is, too.”

  “I’m not nervous,” I quipped. “Really, though. What did she say to you?”

  “Oh, you know, this and that. Girl talk.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me?”

  Aaliyah placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. I hated being touched, but for her, I’d allow it. She could probably get away with anything over these next few months while she was pregnant.

  “I’m definitely not going to tell you.”

  I grimaced.

  She squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t frown, Damy. You’re getting married tomorrow.”

  Damy.

  I really wanted to tell her to never call me that again, but she said since we were pretty much family, we needed nicknames. She came up with Damy, and I hated every single thing about it.

  She walked off as Connor stood beside me, cheesing harder than ever before.

  “Are you sure I can’t call you Damy like she does?” he questioned.

  “If you do, I’ll punch you in your ballsack.”

  He cringed and placed his hands over his junk. “Noted.”

  “Do me a favor?” I asked.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You never ask for favors.”

  “Yeah, well, today I need one.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Try to get Aaliyah to tell you what Stella said.”

  “Wow.” Connor blew out a low breath of hot air. “Aaliyah’s right. You are nervous.”

  “I’m not fucking nervous!” I growled. Yeah, that’s right. I growled like a damn beast. Living up to Stella’s nickname for me.

  Okay, fine. I was nervous. Could you blame me? I hardly even dated women for longer than twenty-four hours, and even that was a stretch. Now, after knowing about a woman’s existence for only a week and probably spending less than a full-blown hour with her, I was meeting her at the end of an aisle to say, “I do.”

  I felt as if I were going to shit my pants with the amount of anxiety shooting through my veins. I wasn’t even a nervous guy. Most of the time, I didn’t care enough to feel anything.

  I lowered my head and clasped my hands together. “How do I not fuck this up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We gotta live together for six months. I have a history of fucking up living arrangements, and if she leaves—”

  “What if she stays?”

  I grimaced at the thought. Nobody had stayed before, so I doubted this situation would be any different.

  “I’m serious, Connor. Give me some tips.”

  “You’re asking me for tips for how to make a woman stay? The man who’s only been married for like two-poin
t-five seconds?”

  “Yeah, but you’re a better man than me.”

  “I think we both know that’s a lie, but I’ll take the compliment.” He sat down on the nearest chair and patted his knee. “Come on over, son, and take a seat on Daddy’s lap so I can give you a pep talk.” I gave him a death stare, and he put his hands up in surrender. “Or stay right where you are. No harm, no foul.”

  He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together, growing a bit somber, which wasn’t something Connor often did. “Be patient. With her, with yourself. You’re both coming into this situation with baggage. I don’t know what her baggage is, but I know yours, and I know how sometimes it can feel a bit heavy, so don’t overwhelm yourself. Set it down when you need a break, and lean into your family when you need to. Aaliyah and I are just a phone call away.”

  I gave him a weighted smile, and he smiled brighter. “Thanks, Con.”

  “Welcome, Damy.”

  Asshole.

  “This feels like a really great romance opening,” Connor said. “Aaliyah just had me read one of her favorites about two toxic people who probably could’ve been better off with therapy, but hell, they figured it out in a weird way even though he was kind of odd and used to watch her sleep.”

  “What book is that?”

  “Something called Twilight.”

  “Trust me, this isn’t going to be an Edward and Bella situation.”

  Connor’s eyes lit up, and he had this giddy grin plastered across his face as he shot an accusing finger my way. “You’ve read Twilight?”

  “And seen the movies. I’m an asshole, Connor. Not some culturally unintelligent schmuck. You’re just now reading those books? Aaliyah should’ve taken that as a red flag and run the other way.”

  He held up his ring finger. “She put a ring on it. There’s no going back now.”

  “There’s a thing called divorce.”

  A thing I was certainly looking forward to in six months’ time.

  “Maybe you’ll fall in love with Stella, and she’ll fall in love with you, and you two will live happily ever after without a divorce.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I dryly replied.

  He did the opposite of what I said as he held his breath and crossed his fingers for good luck. I would’ve hated that fucker if I didn’t like him so much.

  “I’m going to go see if Aaliyah is all right. She stands too much, and she needs to rest her ankles.”

  “Okay, but wait, Connor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you, uh…?” I didn’t even want to say it because I knew he’d be an emotional ass. “Do you want to be my best man or something? I know it’s fake and all, but…” His eyes filled with tears, and he placed his hand against his chest. “Stop it,” I yipped.

  “Damian Lincoln Blackstone—”

  “My middle name isn’t Lincoln—”

  “What’s your middle na—”

  “I don’t have a middle na—”

  “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I would be honored to be your best man.”

  “Stop it,” I said again.

  “Stop what?”

  “Crying.”

  “It’s the hormones. Pregnancy is weird.”

  “I just think you’re weird.”

  “I gotta go tell Aaliyah the good news. But, hey, just a heads-up. You’re worth staying for, Damian. The people who left weren’t worthy of you.”

  They didn’t leave me. They sent me away. That was a different feeling.

  What a sap my best friend was. It was funny how opposite we were of one another. They said opposites attract, which in our case was very true. I wondered what that meant for Stella and me. What happened when my darkness met her light?

  Connor walked away, wiping his tears, and I could already hear him telling Aaliyah the news around the corner. I bet she was crying, too, the two emotional freaks. Sometimes I wished I could feel like them, too. Feel so freely without shame of being overthrown with their emotions. I’d been burned one too many times by feeling too deeply, though, so that wasn’t really in my cards.

  I turned a corner, walking into the study, and unfortunately, entered a space I wasn’t supposed to be in. There, in the middle of the study, was a seamstress, Maple, and Stella.

  Stella.

  Standing in the space, surrounded by hanging gowns, while she wore one against her body.

  Stella.

  In a dress.

  A wedding dress.

  My bride.

  Shit.

  I had a bride.

  A beautiful one at that.

  She looked like the world’s greatest gift dressed in white, but she also seemed uncomfortable in the gown. I knew this wasn’t my fault, but a moment of guilt hit me. It did something to a person’s head when it was clear as day that a woman didn’t want to marry you.

  She didn’t want to marry me. She didn’t even know me. It wasn’t like I was begging to be her husband either.

  This was insane. All of it, every single inch of the situation we were in, was madness.

  “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!” Maple said, waving me away.

  “I don’t believe in superstitions,” I stated, my eyes still on Stella while hers were locked on me.

  “Just because you don’t doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Now get out of here before you cause bad luck,” Maple said, shooing me away.

  I looked at the racks of dresses, then back to a quiet, uncomfortable Stella and told her the only thing I could think of to bring her an ounce of peace.

  “It’s okay if you wear black.”

  7

  Stella

  * * *

  Damian’s friends were magic.

  Connor and Aaliyah took my anxiety and turned it into a carnival ride. Meeting them was a highlight and somehow made me feel a little less on edge about the wedding in the morning.

  “We need to go out for a rehearsal dinner!” Connor said after I finished getting fitted for my dress, and Damian had been fitted for his suit.

  “We don’t need a rehearsal dinner because we aren’t having a rehearsal. We’re getting married in the backyard tomorrow. It’s not a big deal,” Damian dryly stated.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the whole dynamic between him and his friends. He was so different from Aaliyah and Connor. They were like the bright, vibrant house on a block while Damian was the home dressed all in black. Complete opposites, yet somehow, they worked so well together.

  Maybe a person like Damian needed friends who held a bit of light within them. Otherwise, he’d drown in the dark.

  “Uh, we totally need a rehearsal dinner,” Aaliyah chimed in. Her tight coils of hair were wrapped up in a perfect bun, and her smile was enough to make others smile. “You know what I’m thinking?” she asked Connor.

  “Oh, I know what you’re thinking.” He nodded.

  “In-N-Out Burger!” they shouted together, tossing their hands up in the air.

  “Oh my goodness, and can we get that one thing that we drove past in our rental car today?” Connor asked.

  “Donuts!” they hollered in unison. It was as if they spoke in incomplete sentences and knew exactly what was being said. It was the most adorable thing.

  “We aren’t doing any of that,” Damian coldly stated. It amazed me how unmoved his friends were by his dryness. They remained their bubbly selves through and through. We ended up going to a nice sit-down restaurant, seeing how Damian was so anti-fast food. He must’ve never tried In-N-Out Burger’s animal-style fries. A true masterpiece.

  “You know, Aaliyah and I started out as roommates, and look at where we are now. So, no matter how wild a situation looks, maybe yours will work out just as well as ours,” Connor said. If he wasn’t the most hopeful romantic, then I didn’t know who was.

  Unfortunately, I was the dream destroyer. “While that’s true for you, I actually have a boyfriend.”

  “What?!” Connor spat out, hav
ing no sense of a poker face. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s okay with all of this?”

  “It was actually his idea.” I shrugged. “He’s the one who pushed me to do it.”

  “Sounds like a money-hungry man,” Damian muttered.

  I shot him a look. “Says the man who’s only doing this arrangement for the money.”

  He shot me a dirtier look. I was almost tempted to stick my tongue out at him. Childish? Yes. Dramatic? Also yes.

  I stuck my tongue out at him in my mind, and somehow, that felt oddly satisfying.

  “Don’t mind Damian. He has bad table manners. How long have you been dating your boyfriend?” Connor questioned.

  “Ten years.”

  He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at me. “So, what I’m hearing is it’s not that serious,” he joked.

  “Ignore him,” Aaliyah said, placing a comforting hand against my forearm. “He’s been watching a lot of romantic comedies with me.”

  “Oh my gosh, I get it. Every night is my romantic comedy movie night,” I explained. “I watch and re-watch one every day. Don’t even get me started on Hallmark movies.”

  “Dear God,” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes. Why did he have to make everything so grumpy? I felt as if we were having an actual good night.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I asked him pointedly.

  “Nothing. Never mind,” he said.

  “Don’t take Damian’s snide remarks to heart. He judged me for my rom-com addiction, too,” Connor tossed out, easing up the slight nerves that Damian gave me. Why did I care what he thought anyway? We hadn’t shared one interaction with each other that was pleasant. Clearly, we were far from a match.

  “Why are you so grumpy toward me all the time?” I asked Damian, unable not to take his remarks to heart. I couldn’t help it.

  “For the love of God, don’t start crying,” Damian said, rolling his eyes.

  “Damian! Stop it,” Aaliyah scolded her friend. He looked at her and then muttered an apology and excused himself to the restroom.

  I sat back against the booth’s backing in complete dismay. “I’m sorry, but what is it with your friend? He’s such a jerk!”

 

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