by Emilia Finn
“Bryan!” My voice cracks. “You were just being silly. You’re always being silly, and that—”
“I don’t know how to define love, Maddi. I don’t know how to say one way or the other, but I do know that when I think of being old, I see you there. Don’t ask me how I see that shit, and especially don’t ask about how, simply after speaking with you for ten minutes, I knew. I just do.”
“You’re being crazy,” I whimper. “Maybe today has got you all sentimental or something. We’re going to a wedding, and—”
He angles my head and slams his lips against mine until I cry. He swallows the sounds down, and holds me extra tight when all I want to do it melt against the sidewalk.
When he senses my submission, he pulls back and studies my eyes. “I don’t know everything, but at this point in my life, I see you here, and my heart does some weird shit. I don’t know the secret to something that lasts forever, but there’s a legend in my family that when a Kincaid finds his One, it all clicks into place. There’s no logic, no sense, no rhyme or reason. There’s just what we feel. And fuck, but we have a perfect success rate so far. Not a single divorce since Grandpa Bry started it all.”
I turn weak under his probing eyes. Nervous under his expectant stare.
I drop my gaze and nibble on the lipstick he’s already ruined. “Bry…”
“You don’t love me back?” He brings my face back up so he can see my eyes. “You don’t feel anything?”
I nod. I swallow my nerves, then I swallow again. “My family comes with a perfect divorce rate, Bry. I’m not sure I know a single married couple that is still with the person they first declared their love to.”
“But now you know my family,” he pushes. “That changes the ratios for you, right?” His voice shakes. “You don’t love me back?”
“Just like you…” I hedge. “I find it difficult to define love, since I don’t really know what it means in its purest sense. Unlike you, I don’t feel that undying love for my family. They’re…” I sigh. “Associates, I guess. But when you walk into a room, I feel nice too. When we eat with your family, my smile hurts from watching you interact with them.” Then I swoon a little. “Especially when you interact with Alyssa.”
“She’s my best friend.”
I snicker and lower my eyes. “When you speak to me, my heart flutters. And when we’re in bed, it soars. When you’re obnoxious, I get this uncontrollable urge to smack you… with my car. But while I consider my options for murder, I’m smiling.”
He snorts.
“I guess… I’m not qualified to declare love. But I feel something for you. And it’s not something I want to give up.”
“How about…” Brows pulled close, he takes my left hand and slowly, very gently runs his fingers along mine. He balls my hand into a fist, but then he pulls my pinky out straight. My pointer finger. My thumb.
“This means something,” he murmurs. “And we never have to say what it means. We can just go about our lives, but when the urge strikes,” he lifts my hand to show him what we’ve created, “just show me this. You don’t have to say the words, but doing this can be our own little modified way of saying that we have feelings for each other.”
“This means ‘I love you’ in sign language.”
He snorts. “Yes it does. But you don’t have to take it quite that seriously. To us, it can represent a little more than a high-five, but a little less than lifelong devotion.”
“But…” I lower my hand. “What if I decide one day to stop being unsure, and instead commit to the lifelong thing?”
His beautiful grin creeps up. “Well, you could say so, I guess. Or you could smack me with that hand. I’m also quite partial to grand speeches during family dinner. So if you get a bug in your butt and feel the need to tell the world, we’d all love to hear it.”
“You’re so high-maintenance.” I step in and wrap my arms around his neck. Smiling, I press my lips to his, and end it with a nip. “If I ever feel the need to make a public proclamation, I swear, you’ll be the first to know about it.”
“Deal.” He presses one last kiss to my lips before pulling away and taking my hand. “Now we’re really gonna be late. And you know Evie’s gonna kick our asses if we make a scene coming in after she’s already inside.”
“Oh shit. Hurry!”
Bryan
Uh Oh
Instead of having a bride’s side and a groom’s side, everybody sits wherever the fuck they want. My mom sits in the front row beside my dad and the rest of my family. Right beside Evie’s mom, Ben’s mom sniffles into a tissue, and her husband – whose wedding I attended in this very church when I was younger – laughs away her tears, and tells her to pull her shit together.
Fighters take up at least seventy percent of the seats inside this large church. The other seats hold asses that belong to the local police, firemen, EMTs. Security specialists, dancers, bionic men – ie: Riley, with his robot leg, since he lost the original back when he was a cop.
The church is tall, with raftered ceilings, white walls, and polished, light wood pews. Each row of seats is lined with pretty flowers from the local florist, and at the top of the aisle, a massive, overflowing urn provides a perfect backdrop for the wedding we’ve all been waiting for.
Ben and Evie have been in love since we were kids. And now, the big day has arrived.
“It looks so pretty in here,” Maddi cuddles into my side. “It’s like a fairy garden.”
“Not quite the diamond-studded thing you’re used to?”
Smiling, she crosses her legs and sighs. “This is better. This is romantic and sweet.”
Like she feels how my heartbeat trembles, my mom turns in her seat and studies Maddi hugging my arm. She looks us up and down with an adoring eye. Then she smiles and mouths the words, I love you.
I say it back, just the movement of my lips, and end it with a wink.
Mirroring me and Maddi, Mom turns back to the front and hugs Daddy’s arm. She rests her head against his shoulder, and settles in for something beautiful.
“Hey, Bry?” Maddi whispers.
When I look down, I find her hand resting on her thigh. Her pinky finger outstretched. Her pointer finger. Her thumb.
Fuck me, but I’m sunk.
She doesn’t look up at me, and she sure as hell doesn’t say the words out loud. But it’s enough. It’s perfect.
I reach across her lap and take her hand in acknowledgment. Lacing my fingers with hers, I smile when she audibly sighs and melts against my side.
Finally, at half past three, the soft instrumental music playing through the speakers changes to 10cc’s “I’m Not In Love.” The crowd stops talking, and turns to the doors to watch the wedding party walk in, but I look to Maddi when she tenses.
“This is…” She frowns. “An odd song to choose for a wedding walk.”
I only shrug. “My cousin is crazy. She’s always trying to be different.”
I turn to the doors and grin when Mac steps in first with Ben’s grandma.
Sort of.
She’s not his actual blood relation. She’s an old lady that Oz decided he’d like to keep. He declared it so, and she rolled with it. And now that Oz has a family of his own, the woman he calls Ma has become their grandmother.
It’s as simple as that around here. If someone wants to call someone family, it just becomes so.
Mac is decked out in a very 007-type suit, broken up only by the red bowtie he wears. Black suit, white shirt, shit-eating grin as he escorts Ma along the aisle. He sets her in the very first row, drops a kiss on her cheek, then bolts back down the aisle amid his captive crowd’s soft laughter.
“Your family are such show offs,” Maddi snickers. “He could have walked and not gotten the laughs.”
“But that’s never as much fun. When we get a minute, remind me to tell you about Oz’s wedding. Ben made a speech that had just about everyone pissing their pants.”
“Classy.” Snickering, she only leans into me
and watches the show.
Mac arrives at the doorway again, but this time with Bean on his arm. She wears a fire-engine red gown that goes all the way to the floor, and has a V in the front similar to Maddi’s dress from that twenty-million-dollar event, but as they pass us and make their way toward where Ben stands at the front, I note the back of her dress exists.
Unlike Maddi’s version.
Depositing Bean in place, Mac moves to Ben and hugs him so hard that everyone’s attention is dragged away from the doors and the pending arrival of the bride, to be riveted to the front, watching the best friends love on each other for a moment.
Ben’s suit is like Mac’s, but beneath his coat, he wears a vest, and instead of a white shirt and red bowtie, he wears ivory for his bride.
Finally, the guys part and take their places standing side by side, and the music grows a little louder, so we all stand and turn to the entrance.
It’s November, which means the breeze outside is cool, but the sun is out and shines a long stream of light along the floor, until finally, Evie and Uncle Aiden fill that space.
Maddi gasps. “Oh no.”
“Um…”
We’re not the only people murmuring as Aiden steps forward with his head held high. Not ‘proud’ high, but ‘refuses to look down and see what the rest of us see’ high.
“Did my cousin get a boob job overnight, or…?”
“I think there was a wardrobe malfunction,” Maddi hedges, but she’s no longer smiling. Her hand squeezes my arm so tight that she brings my gaze around to catch her gritted jaw and fiery eyes.
I look back to Evie, and study the floor-length gown with diamonds covering the skirt the whole way down. But the… uh… bust seems to be a smidge tight.
Evie’s face remains impassive as she walks. Her hair hangs in long ringlets against her back, and her makeup is stunning. Smoky eyes, red lips to match her maid of honor’s gown. If not for the overflowing boobs thing, she would be a vision in white.
The song that Maddi declared strange continues to play as Aiden escorts Evie along the aisle. Tragically, every step she takes makes her boobs jiggle. This is my almost flat-chested fighter cousin; she’s never jiggled in her life!
Every guest follows their progression along the aisle, and when I glance at Ben, I have to shove my knuckles between my teeth and bite down to stop the laugh when I see his eyes are stuck to Evie’s chest.
He’s caught in a trap. Beguiled by the boobs. Stunned like a deer in headlights. And despite Mac’s discreet elbow to Ben’s ribs, he’s unable to look away.
The music comes to a slow end, Aiden hands his baby over to Ben with a gritted jaw and enough anger to murder us all, then he takes a seat by Aunt Tina and settles in for what I’m certain is going to be a shit-show.
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant begins, “we’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of Evelyn Kincaid and Ben Conner.” Reverend Hannah literally reaches up and loosens his tie. “Um… Please, let’s begin.”
Maddi
Murder on the Mind
The very second the ceremony is over and we’re released from the church, I cross half a block at an almost sprint and snatch my cell from my clutch. My brain feels like it might explode. My heart, too, if I’m being honest. But it’s not the nice kind of swelling.
I unlock my phone, scroll to find the right number, then I stab my thumb against the screen and slam the phone against my ear while Bry busily celebrates with his family at the front doors of the church.
Boobs aside, everyone is happy that Ben and Evie got through the ceremony and are now blissfully one.
“Hey, Maddi.”
“How could you!” I growl. “How could you do that, Jenna?”
“Uh… do what? What the hell are you bitching about?”
“You ruined her dress! You made it too damn small, and you know it.”
“I did no such thing,” she singsongs. “Bride asks for boning in the bust, bride gets boning in the bust. Plus, you were on board with this plan when it first came up.”
“I was drunk, and then I told you to quit it! And she did not ask to be spilling out of her fucking dress, Jenna! You did that on purpose, and your ‘innocent-me’ act is a damn lie.”
“Hey, let me ask you something, Maddi?”
“What?”
“How could you know what her dress looks like, unless you’re at her wedding? And if you’re at the wedding, please explain to me why?”
“It’s none of your damn business where I am, or with whom. You ruined her dress, Jenna! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I think she looks great… ya know, for a two-dollar hooker.”
“You bitch,” I hiss. “Why would you do that? Why would you ruin someone’s wedding dress – the one day a girl gets to feel like the most beautiful woman in the room – all because you’re petty and immature? Why would you do that?”
“She’s a cow,” she brushes me off with an air of boredom. “I think I actually helped her man say yes. God knows how she hooked him with her ugly personality. So I figured I was doing her a favor; plump up the girls, remind him that it’s okay to marry trash.”
“Funny,” I snap. “Sounds to me like you’re a jealous cow with a crush on someone else’s man. But guess what? Ben Conner is desperately in love with his bride. With or without the massive tits. And that unconditional love is something you will never know for as long as you behave this way.”
“Okay. Good talk, sis. You have fun at that trash wedding, and be sure to check in with your daddy when you get back. He’s been wondering where you went today. I’ll be sure to let him know when I see him again.”
“I’m not ashamed to be here, Jenna. I’m ashamed that I called you my best friend for so many years. I’m ashamed that I defended you against these people. And I’m ashamed that I ever let you make me think badly of them.”
“Bryan Kincaid is a horrible human being, and since we’re on the subject, I was so drunk when we hooked up, I’m pretty sure what he did bordered on rape. How about that?”
I recoil from her ugly accusation. “You would use that word, wouldn’t you? You would trivialize such a powerful word for your own gain.”
“He didn’t have my permission to sleep with me.”
“He didn’t touch you,” I hiss. “He saved you from something terrible, took you away to safety, then he got you home again, albeit with a little love note to let Andrew know that his future bride was an unfaithful bitch.”
“He… you…” She flounders from the truth. “You’re a fucking bitch, Madilyn! Enjoy the wedding, enjoy eating your sloppy joes and store-bought tea, then be sure to wash your hands before you come home. Don’t bring the stench of poor with you.”
“Poor, to you, means to be without money and status. Poor, to me, means zero respect, zero love, and zero dignity. I have two families now, Jenna. You’re right that one is poor. The other is rich with the lifetime kind of love that you will never know. Stay the hell away from me. Stay the hell away from Evie.”
“Oh dear,” she drawls. “You’re already like them.” She tuts. “Shame.”
I hang up with a loud grunt, when, for the first time in my life, I’d rather ball my fist and find out what it’s like to punch someone in the face.
I hate her. I hate her so much for ruining Evie’s day. I hate her for being selfish and mean when Evie never did anything to hurt her.
“Turdsky?”
I let out a muffled scream and spin to find Bry standing ten feet away.
He had brushed and gelled his hair before we left the house, but it’s already falling limp from running his fingers through it. He wears that suit so well, but at the same time, he looks kind of sweet and innocent. Like a puppy.
I want to hug him. I want to erase the worry from his eyes. “Bry…”
“You okay, Princess? You look…” He takes a step forward. “Well, you look downright pissed. You ran outta the church like Evie’s knockers were smotherin
g you.”
“Oh god!” I cry out and step into his arms when he opens them. “God, her boobs, Bry.”
“Was that… uh…” He pulls back to look into my eyes. “Your friend did her dress, right?”
I hate that my eyes itch with humiliation. “Yes.”
“Did she screw it up on purpose?”
I nod and let my eyes drop. “Yes, she did. She’s mad at your family, and she figured giving your cousin the illusion of a boob-job would be ample revenge.”
“Because of what I did to her?” He slides a thumb beneath my eyes. “She’s so mad about that, she’d try to ruin my cousin’s wedding, and land her own ass on a blacklist where none of us will ever support her business again?”
My breath comes out on fast, hitching heaves. “In a nutshell. She thinks that having someone think of her negatively is better than not being thought of at all. I always knew she was flawed, Bry. I always knew she could be a little petty. So many are, you know? So it wasn’t such a big deal. But this…”
I press my forehead to his chest and barely keep my embarrassed tears at bay. “I’m so sorry she did this. And I’m so sorry that, had I not gotten to know you, I would have considered her actions just and fair.”
“What she does isn’t your fault, baby.” He pushes me back and leans in to press a kiss to my lips. “Other people’s actions are not our fault.”
“She was my best friend.”
He nods and places a second kiss on my lips. “I’m sorry she broke your heart. But if, when this blows over, you decide to do a girls’ night or whatever and make up, I’ll support you.”
This man surprises me.
“You would? You would be okay with me and her still being friends after this?”
“Of course.” His eyes dance with kindness. “I would never try to control your circles, Princess. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Unconditional love,” I whimper.
He lifts my hand, elongates the correct fingers. “Unconditional acceptance.” Then he opens my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “Did you just tear her a new asshole on the phone?”