Full Throttle

by Lizzie Hart Stevens

  I slowly turn around and glare at him over my shoulder. “Zip it or you’ll be finishing it on your own.” I smirk and he flips me his middle finger.

  Lexi shakes her head.

  “I’ll meet you at home when you come to grab your things before you head to Derek’s tonight.” She turns on her heel and I give her a slap on her ass cheek before she walks away.

  She whips her head around and her long, red ponytail lands on her other shoulder.

  “Mine,” I mouth the word and wink at her. She sticks her tongue out at me and continues to walk away.

  Fuck, I wish that tongue were down my throat right now.

  I turn around and grab the tools to finish helping Crash get the engine set into place.

  “You gonna tell me what that was all about?” He dips his head under the hood to get a better look at my face.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “Okay, man. Whatever,” he guffaws. “Anyways, this looks good. Tac and Deuce can finish the job up on Monday.” He grabs a shop towel off the toolbox and wipes his hands clean.

  I nod my head, unzip my coveralls and sit down in one of the chairs next to the back wall to finish taking them off. Crash sits down in the chair beside me and does the same.

  “So,” he turns his head to look at me as he pulls off his boot and then a pant leg, “you and Derek have big plans tonight?”

  I slip my Doc Martens on and start lacing them back up.

  “Not really. Maybe a few beers and a fire in the backyard. I don’t want to get too crazy because I don’t want to feel like total shit tomorrow.”

  “Good point,” he laughs.

  We both stand up and go through the checklist of making sure everything is locked up for the weekend. Normally we would be open on Saturday, but since Crash is in the wedding, and the rest of the crew at Sulley’s is invited, Sulley said to shut it down.

  We pull the last bay door down and I lock it up, giving the handle a shake to double check.

  “We’re meeting at Derek’s place at ten in the morning?” Crash asks, one foot in the door of his truck.

  I take a deep breath.

  I don’t know why, but just now, Crash asking me that has made me realize this shit is really happening. Tomorrow at this time, I will be a married man. It’s crazy how fast things can change. Last year I was having one night stands like they were the only thing keeping me alive. And now? Now the only thing keeping me alive is Lexi.

  I mentally shake my head and give Crash a nod.

  “Yeah, man. Ten.”

  I feel my eyes glaze over as I start to stare off into space. Luckily he doesn’t notice. He just tosses me a peace sign, jumps in his truck and leaves. I get in my car and close the door. Lexi makes me the happiest man in the world, but this wedding stuff is scary shit. I’m suddenly starting to think we should have eloped.

  I turn the key and start the engine.

  ********

  “Lex, did you get the marshmallows?” I hear Thumper, aka Brea, holler from the kitchen.

  “Yep, they’re in the tall cabinet next to the fridge!” Lexi shouts from the bathroom.

  “Got ‘em!” Brea calls back.

  I walk into the kitchen to see a pile of hot dogs, buns, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers all over the table.

  “What is all this mess?” I ask, startling Thumper and causing her to jump and squeal.

  “Coen! You scared the bejeezus out of me,” she gasps.

  I chuckle.

  “We’re coming over to Derek’s for a weenie roast before we split you two up for the night.” She winks and continues throwing more supplies on the table.

  “Did you just say ‘weenie’? Don’t you mean hot dog?”

  “Weenie. Hot dog. Whatever. Same diff.”

  “Not to me it isn’t.” I nonchalantly place my hands in front of my dick.

  She stops what she’s doing and sighs. Then she places her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows.

  “It’s technically not a hot dog until you put it in a bun, Coen. Until then, it’s a wiener. Okay?” she says with a dead serious look on her face.

  How someone can call it a wiener and not laugh is beyond me. Hell, maybe I’m mentally still a twelve-year-old. I rub my forehead and smirk.

  “Whatever you say, Thumper. I’ll take your word for it.”

  Just then, Lexi walks in.

  She’s changed out of her high heels and into her Chucks.

  Killing. Me.

  I greet her with a kiss.

  “God, you taste amazing.” I grin against her lips.

  “Down, boy.” She giggles. “Less than twenty-four hours to go now. You can make it.”

  “Are you two love birds ready to go?” Brea asks with her arms full of everything that was just lying on the table.

  Lexi walks over to her and takes some of it off her hands.

  “You two go ahead. I’m going to hop in the shower real quick and then I’ll be right over.”

  Lex bites her bottom lip when I mention the word shower. This is driving her just as crazy as it’s driving me.

  I waste no time getting my shower done and heading across the street to Derek’s with my bag that I’ve packed for the night. He picked up our tuxes earlier today, so I don’t have to worry about that.

  I walk into Derek’s back yard and see him, Lexi, and Brea sitting around the fire pit. There’s a bit of a chill in the air tonight, so the warmth from the fire is nice.

  I sit down beside Lexi and she hands me a stick with two hot d—, I mean, wieners on it, to roast over the fire.

  “Thanks, Sweet Cheeks.”

  “You’re welcome, babe.” She grins.

  Derek passes me a bottle of beer. We clink the necks together as a ‘cheers’ gesture and give each other a nod.

  I turn my attention back to Lexi.

  “Tomorrow night, I’ll be the one giving you a wiener.” I waggle my eyebrows. I just couldn’t help myself.

  She almost spits out her beer and begins to cough from almost choking on it.

  “Fuck, man,” Derek says. “Don’t kill your bride-to-be before the big day tomorrow.”

  Laughter fills Derek’s back yard as we sit around the fire reminiscing about the fun times we’ve all shared over the past few months since Lexi and I have gotten together. One of the stories Derek loves to tell is the time we all went to the carnival, and I got stuck on the Ferris wheel. Heights don’t normally bother me too bad, but when you’re a big guy like I am and you’re stuck in a thin metal cage roughly sixty-three feet up in the air, you can’t help your mind wondering what will happen if that cage comes crashing down. I was stuck up there for what felt like two hours, but in reality, it was only thirty minutes.

  I got a big ‘I told ya so’ from Lex when I finally got down. I had gone on it alone after trying to convince her to get on it with me, telling her that it was romantic and arguing with her that it was completely safe. I was determined to prove my point. Obviously, I didn’t win that one.

  “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” I ask, propping my left foot up on my right knee and leaning back in the lawn chair.

  Lexi shakes her head and giggles. “And I’m never getting on a Ferris wheel with you.”

  I reach over and grab her by the hand, pulling her over onto my lap and tickling her.

  “We’ll see about that, Sweet Cheeks.”

  She writhes in my lap, pleading with me to stop tickling her.

  I feel the blood start to rush to my cock and silently will it away. I do as she asks and stop. She lies on my lap for a moment to catch her breath. Her beautiful eyes gazing up at me, and her hair resting on my leg in a gorgeous mess. My mind starts to wander, imaging what she might be wearing under her wedding dress tomorrow. Maybe some delicate lacy lingerie that matches those fuck-me heels.

  Man, I hope so.

  Lexi gets up and moves back to her spot in the chair next to me. It’s so
quiet right now. The only sounds we hear are Lexi’s lawn chair creaking as she sits back down, the crickets, and the ruffling of the marshmallow bag Brea has started passing around. We each take a couple and pierce them with the ends of our roasting sticks and hold them over the fire.

  There’s something so calming about watching the flames dance underneath the marshmallows, just kissing it ever-so-slightly to turn it the perfect golden brown. Some people like theirs to turn black, but not me. To me, the best way to eat them is light golden to brown. Crispy on the outside, and warm and gooey on the inside.

  Everyone is still quiet. Just enjoying the calm before all the crazy happens tomorrow, I guess. I can’t help but wonder if my family, if you can even call them that, are going to show up. As much as I hate the way they treat us, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want them to be there. Even if it’s just to rub it in their faces how happy Lexi makes me. She’s all the family I need now.

  I look over at my fiancée and watch her intently as she takes a bite of her s’mores. In my mind, it’s in slow motion, as she licks her lips to clean off the white bits of marshmallow that were left behind, and sucks her fingers clean.

  I’m not sure how long I have been staring at her, but it almost startles me when I hear the loud strum of a guitar. Derek must have grabbed his acoustic while I was lost in Lexi La La Land. I still can’t believe she’s taking my last name tomorrow.

  A lot of people don’t know this about Derek, but aside from organizing the occasional street race, he has his own music store. I might be a little biased, because he is my best friend and all, but the dude can sing and play that guitar like it’s nobody’s business.

  He strums a few chords, and I immediately recognize the song. It’s “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You” by Bryan Adams. It also happens to be the song that Lexi and I agreed on for our first dance as husband and wife. Sure, it might be a little cheesy, but some people think our insta-love is cheesy too. Fuck what those people think.

  Lexi reaches over and intertwines her fingers with mine until the song is over. We all clap when he finishes and sets his guitar down.

  “That was beautiful, Derek,” Brea says.

  “Thanks.” He grins slightly. The guy is wicked fucking talented but his self-esteem when it comes to his music is shit.

  Lexi lets go of my hand, and I instantly miss her warmth on my skin. Especially since I know that’s likely the most I’ll get to really touch her until tomorrow afternoon.

  She sits forward and rests her elbows on her knees.

  “Derek, would you sing that for us at the reception tomorrow? It would mean so much more to me, and I’m sure to Coen too, if it were you singing instead of a recording.” She looks to me for reassurance in her assumption.

  “Yeah, man. She’s right.”

  Lexi smiles. “Please, Derek?”

  He scratches his head for a moment.

  “I don’t know, guys.” He hesitates.

  “Come on, man. Do us the honors.”

  He lets out a heavy sigh. He’s nervous, I can tell, but he would do anything for me, and for Lex; as we would for him.

  “Okay. All right. I’ll do it,” he agrees, pausing between sentences.

  Lexi jumps out of her chair to run over and hug him.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” She almost knocks his chair backward from the force of her attack hug.

  Brea stands up and starts collecting her and Lexi’s things.

  “I think it’s time we head back across the street, Lex. You have to get up early in the morning for your hair and nail appointments.”

  Lexi rolls her eyes.

  “Can I not just throw my hair up in a ponytail and wear jeans and flip flops tomorrow?” she whines. “Coen won’t care, will you, babe?”

  I stand up and wrap my arms around her.

  “Sweet Cheeks, you could wear a burlap sack and I would still marry the fuck out of you.”

  I lean down and kiss her as deep and hard as she’ll let me before she moans and pushes me away.

  “Tomorrow,” she whispers.

  “Don’t touch yourself tonight,” I whisper back in her ear so that only she can hear.

  She bites her bottom lip and slowly pulls away from me.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Walker. I love you.”

  “I love you more, Sweet Cheeks.”

  More than you could ever possibly know.

  Five

  Lexi

  I feel like I’m in some sort of movie right now. My feet are soaking in a small tub of warm water with jets swirling around. One woman is filing the nails on my left hand while another is buffing the ones on my right. And my hair is nothing but wild curls waiting to be plastered to my head with millions of bobby pins.

  Brea hasn’t stopped talking since we woke up this morning. We need to do this and we need to do that. I love the girl, but she is way too chipper in the mornings.

  “This is your big day, Lexi. Make sure you soak it all in. It will go by so fast. You don’t want to miss any of it.” She’s already told me this about four times today.

  I just smile and nod each time she does and continue to stare off into space while all the craziness continues around me.

  I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if my mom were here. Would she be proud of the woman I’ve become? Or would she be disappointed because I’m so much of a tomboy that I can’t stand all of this primping and fussing over me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind getting my nails done from time to time, or my hair, or a pedicure. But all of this at once, with the entire day focused on me, it’s almost too much.

  My dad did the best he could raising me on his own and I’m happy with who I am. It’s just, moments like this; it’s hard for me to not wish my mom were here.

  “Lexi. Hello. Are you in there?” Brea is standing in front of me in her plaid button up shirt and ripped up denim shorts with her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows and looking at me like I’ve gone mad.

  I blink a few times and give my head a shake. I must have been focused on the swirling of the water around my feet in my daze.

  “Uh, yep. Right here. Kind of hard to go anywhere like this.” I make a motion with my head to acknowledge my current situation of being stuck in this chair.

  “What’s wrong?” Her brow furrows.

  “Nothing. I’m fine. Everything’s great.” I fake a smile but I know she sees right through me.

  “That’s horse shit.”

  “Don’t you mean bull shit?”

  “Horse shit, bull shit, shit is shit, Lex. And you’re full of it.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Now spill.”

  I shrug my shoulders, momentarily forgetting that someone is currently trying to paint my nails.

  The esthetician lightly smacks my hand to reprimand me. “You hold still, please, or I’ll have to do it over and you’ll need to sit longer.”

  I widen my eyes and tilt my head to one side as I look back up at Brea.

  “I’m just not used to all this fussing and primping.” I roll my eyes and divert them across the room.

  “She would be so proud of you, ya know?” Sometimes I hate that she can read my thoughts so well. I bite my lip to fight back the tears and slowly nod my head. Keeping my eyes focused on the adorable male hair stylist on the other side of the room who is talking with his hands like his life depends on it. Scissors in one hand and a comb and spray bottle in the other.

  “Thanks, Brea.”

  Forty-five minutes later they’re finally finished with my feet and nails and have moved me to the makeup chair. Normally, when I do my own makeup, it’s just the bare minimum. A little bit of eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara are all I need; and even that is a stretch some days. I’d rather spend that time doing other things. Like not staring at myself in the mirror for half an hour or more. But right now, they’re doing it all. Cover up, foundation, blush, you name it; it’s probably on my face.

  “Please don’t make me look like a geisha.
Coen will run out of the church in the other direction and won’t recognize me with all this damn war paint on.” The makeup artist doesn’t look pleased with my request and acts as though I’ve offended her.

  “Don’t worry. I just want to accent these gorgeous eyes of yours and enhance your pouty lips, then I’ll be finished.”

  I roll my eyes and search the room from what I can see in the mirror in front of me. Brea and Leigh are in the nail chairs now and haven’t stopped chit chatting since they sat down.

  “You look beautiful, bestie!” She calls from the other side of the room.

  I give her a smirk. I just hope Coen thinks so because I do not feel like myself right now.

  Once my makeup is done, my hair stylist takes over. We’ve already done a practice run on my hair a few weeks ago, so she knows exactly what I want and what needs to be done and gets right to work.

  It takes her about thirty minutes or so to get all the bobby pins set into place, followed by what I’m sure is half a can of hairspray. This hair is not moving come hell or high water.

  When she’s finally finished making sure every little hair is where she wants it, she smiles and takes a step back to admire her work.

  “You are going to blow him away, sweetheart.”

  Brea and Leigh walk up behind her, and I can see them both looking at me in the mirror.

  “Wow, Lexi,” Leigh says and Brea nods her head in agreement.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly as I stare at my own reflection.

  The nerves are starting to set in. This is actually freaking happening. I’m getting married just two hours from now to the man of my dreams.

  We pay the salon staff, say our thank you’s, and make our way back to my place to get dressed. When we pull into the driveway, Brea sends Derek a quick text to make sure Coen is nowhere near any windows so he doesn’t see me. Once she gets the go ahead, she and Leigh rush me inside.

  Leigh fixes us all sandwiches in the kitchen while Brea starts making sure our dresses are ready to go. I decided to go with something simple. A plain white gown. The material is bunched a little around my breasts with an average size train flowing behind me. My veil is simple, too. It has very basic beading around the edges and is pinned to the back of my hair about where my ponytail would normally go. I probably look like a bride from the fifties era, but pin-up style. Tattoos, bright red hair and those blue fuck-me heels, as Coen likes to call them.