Laughing, he slapped the doorframe. “It’s about fucking time!”
Chapter 33
Bryan
The last month had been the hardest of my life. NROTC, training, flight school, and Top Gun combined were a cake walk compared to ignoring Emma for an entire month. Every time I saw a message from her, I thought about her with Chad, and wanted to rip my computer apart. I only answered periodically with an “I’m busy” or “I’m fine, life’s just crazy right now.” I wanted to demand she breakup with Chad, to save herself for me…I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but that shit needed to be said in person.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait until my transfer to see her again. Mel’s wedding would conveniently transpire a couple of months before I moved, and Emma had been recruited to be one of the bridesmaids. The desire to see her, to talk to her again, grew with each passing day. I wanted to pull her into my arms, and punch Chad in the face, and not necessarily in that order. She had become my obsession.
Once I arrived, I had two days to convince her to drop him and choose me. I flew in a few hours before the wedding rehearsal, so somewhere between the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, wedding, and reception, I needed to confess. The sooner the better. Would Chad be with her tonight? God, I hoped so. I wanted him to watch as I took her away from him. I wanted him to say something, and when he did, I was going to punch him in the jaw, knocking him out with one punch.
On the flight to Charleston, I had the pleasure of sitting next to an elderly woman, who did not know what to think of me at first. My eyes darted between the window and cabin, and my leg kept tapping out a quick cadence. I was nervous as hell, but only one thing filled my thoughts: I have to get to Emma.
If I had been in her shoes, I would’ve probably reported my suspicious behavior. I could’ve been a terrorist for all she knew, but she didn’t report me to the flight crew. Instead, as she gently patted my arm like a grandmother would, she asked, “Scared of flying?”
I almost laughed in her face. Me scared of flying? I flew fighter jets for the U.S. Navy for God’s sakes. Flying appeared at the bottom of the list of things I feared. “Uh, no. I’m not scared of flying, or of planes for that matter.” I gave her a small smile, though I really wanted to tell her to leave me alone and to fuck off. However, the manners that had been ingrained into me as a child, would not allow me to be rude to anyone. I pictured my mother and grandmother preparing to slap me if they even thought I might be disrespectful to someone, especially a senior citizen.
“No? Are you sure? I won’t think less of a big strapping boy like you if you were a little afraid. We all have something we fear in our lives.” She looked to left and right, as if making sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. Then in a whispered voice, she told me, “I’m afraid of dying. So every month I do something on my bucket list.”
This old lady…I laughed, my irritation with her melting away. “I promise, it’s not the flying I’m worried about. I actually fly planes for a living.”
“Which airline? Are you doing one of those where you catch a ride to go on vacation?”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “No, ma’am. I’m in the Navy. My name is Bryan.”
She punched my shoulder, although, I barely felt it. “Good for you! I’m Grace. My husband, Bert, he was in the Navy too. God rest his soul. But he worked on the planes, he didn’t fly them.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” The response was one of those automatic things people said whenever they heard someone died.
“Why ever for?”
She had me there. I didn’t know, but it felt like the proper thing to say.
Her giggle filled the awkward silence. “No need to be sorry, Bryan We were married for 61 years, and he was the love of my life. My parents weren’t too sure of him, but I knew I was going to marry him the first time I saw him. I was 16 and he was 18. He had come to my church to give the sermon that day. I instantly knew. Sometimes you just know in a moment, and sometimes it takes a little longer. We got married when I turned 18. Last year, he went to sleep and never woke up. Since then, I’ve been doing everything on my bucket list. My Bert, he always loved trying new things. Not me. Too timid and all that. I’m a bit of a chicken. After he died, I wished I could join him, but I’m scared see, and I knew it wasn’t my time. So I wrote out my bucket list and I’m doing everything on it. Last month, I took a trip to Siberia.”
My eyes grew wide. “Siberia?”
“Why not? It’s one of those places you always hear about it, but you never hear of anyone actually going there.”
“I guess you have a point.” I chuckled. When the laughter subsided, I said, “61 years is a long time.”
“It is,” she agreed, and rolled her eyes. “There were times when we argued, and I couldn’t stand the man, but we always talked and worked it out. That’s the key to everything. Good communication. If you can talk to the person you love and never get bored of it, that person is a keeper. We had our share of hard times, but the good outweighed it all.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Do you have someone special in your life?”
Unbidden, a smile pulled at my lips. “I do, but she doesn’t realize it yet.” I’m not sure why I did it, but I poured my heart out to Grace, telling her everything about Emma, about how we started talking by accident, about what happened last time I was in South Carolina, and about my own personal living hell during the past month.
“I bet she loves you too.”
I wanted to believe her, but I knew better than to believe my next meeting with Emma would go smoothly. Winning her would be dangerous, difficult, and I could fail. “I hope so.”
She smiled, once again patting my arm. “You really don’t have a problem with her disability?”
“No. It’s part of who she is. I never knew her before she got sick, so I don’t really know what she was like back then.”
“And now?”
“She’s stronger than she probably realizes, she’s beautiful, she gives me shit…uh, I mean, she doesn’t take crap from me or anyone else, and gives as good as she gets.”
“Good for her. She sounds lovely.”
“She is. That said, she is also vulnerable and hides her pain behind a mask.”
Her heads nodded sharply as she proclaimed, “You better be good to her. She’s been through a lot, and I have a feeling her heart is fragile. In the end though, I’m sure you’ll win her over.”
She sounded so certain, so confident in the future. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
“I am. No woman would share that much of herself with a man if she didn’t feel something for him.” Before I could argue, she held up her hand to stop me. “No woman. Trust me.”
Once our plane descended, I helped Grace pull her luggage off of the carousel and we said our goodbyes, but before I could leave her, she slipped me her phone number. “When you set the date, let me know. I’m putting your wedding on my bucket list.” The old woman made a lot of assumptions, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to deny her this small request. I only prayed I could fulfill it.
Exiting the airport, I found Luke waiting for me with the car running. I had two days, and I would not fail.
Chapter 34
Emma
Tonight the butterflies in my belly danced the jive, making me want to throw up. Bryan would be at the rehearsal, which meant, I would have to see him. Over the past month, I’d received a total of four messages from him. They all said the same thing, he was too busy to talk.
I missed him.
Every night before I closed my eyes, I checked my phone for message or something from him. It didn’t have to be big, but I craved a smidgen of evidence that the past few months were not part of some elaborate make believe world my imagination had concocted. I had our past conversations to prove everything actually happened as I remembered, but right now it all felt more like a dream. Even as I read through our previous discussions every night, it all seemed imagi
nary.
I received nothing. Zero encouragement. So why did I still want him so much? I needed to shut off my feelings and move on, but I found that to be easier said than done.
For the past month, at least once a week, Chad would pick me up, and we would go out as friends. It had become our hobby to seek out new restaurants neither one of us had been to, and try them together. I almost always thought about Bryan on those nights, wondering if he would like it or not. And maybe I posted everything on FaceSpace so Bryan would see it. I wasn’t sure what I expected out of him. Maybe I hoped he had acted like an ass because of jealousy.
Chad never said anything to me, neither discouraging nor encouraging my feelings for his friend. However, he always tried to cheer me up or do things that he thought would make me happy. I had fun with him and he listened to me complain, but he could not fill that void Bryan had left.
My stomach flipped again. Maybe it’d be better if I went home and forgot about the wedding rehearsal …only, I could not abandon Mel. Our friendship superseded any issues I might have with one of her other friends. And at least I wasn’t alone tonight. Chad volunteered to come as my friend/date. Since he had already been invited to the wedding, he decided to tag along for everything else.
No big deal.
Walking into the church, my eyes immediately found Bryan at the front of the sanctuary standing next to Luke. He threw his head backwards as they both laughed together, while I felt sick and heartbroken.
Chad stood next to me on my left, supporting me with his arm wrapped around my waist, as I gripped the handle of my cane tightly with my right hand. Bryan looked so handsome. His hunter green button down had been neatly tucked into a pair of black slacks. He was clean-shaven, putting his baby face on display for everyone to see. And his hazel eyes sparkled with merriment. And why shouldn’t they? Two of his best friends were about to tie the knot.
My insides clenched with want, desire, and loss. I am not his type. A couple of weeks ago, I worked up the courage and asked Chad if he knew Bryan’s type. My new friend had already accepted the fact my heart belonged to the Navy man, but his brow shot upward in shock and his forehead crinkled. He stared at me for a long time before he finally answered, “He mainly dates blondes who are thin and really athletic.” Right then and there, I understood I truly could never be his type. First, I had never been thin. Second, while I still did as many things as my body would allow whenever possible, being athletic was not one of them. And finally, I looked god awful as a blonde. I had tried to bleach my hair in college one time–horrible mistake. Darker tones worked better with my tanned complexion and dark eyes. My pink undertones fought with the yellowy blonde, which resulted in a clash that no one would ever consider attractive.
And now Bryan and I were in the same building. I stood there gawking at him, silently begging him to turn around and notice me, but the only reason his head whipped up to look in my general direction, was due to the woman who barged into the church and screamed his name. Running around her obstacle—me—she accidentally pushed me. If Chad had not held me firmly, I would have fallen. Who was she? Who was this woman Bryan appeared so happy to see? Who was the woman who jumped into his arms and kissed each cheek before she kissed his luscious pink lips? Bryan’s date? She had long silken black hair, which if Chad was right, didn’t match his ideal type, but then again, she could be a fling or booty buddy.
“Rayne!” Chad snapped. Under his breath, he grumbled, “That girl has no sense about her sometimes. So fucking annoying. I swear one of these days, I will beat her ass.”
Rayne? This was the infamous Rayne? Bryan’s sister, Rayne? Now that I studied her a little more diligently, I could see the resemblance. Almost instantly, the rising panic, began disappearing. I could breathe a little easier.
“What?” she yelled across the church, glaring directly at my own date.
“Don’t give me that shit.”
Narrowing her eyes, Mel growled a warning, “We’re in a freaking church! Language!”
I didn’t know if substituting words was considered acceptable, but given that she was the bride, I refused to point out that little tidbit to an already stressed out Mel.
My escort cursed low enough under his breath, Mel didn’t hear him, and then assisted me down the aisle to the second from the front pew. After I sat down, he spun around to sneer at Rayne. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going. I know you have some sort of brother complex, but the way you rushed in here without any regard for the location or people already here… Emma could’ve fallen!”
Rayne refused to back down to Chad, and it looked as if they hated each other. “Emma? Who the hell is Emma? Her? Oh please. I only brushed passed her. Not my fault she’s too drunk or whatever to stand on two feet properly.”
I sucked in my breath. That hurt. More than I wanted it to. She wasn’t the first person to say something like that, and I doubted she’d be the last. People who didn’t understand, were sometimes the most hurtful with their words and actions.
Tears burned my eyes. She didn’t mean it. She didn’t know me, and yet, my feelings didn’t care about any of that. I wanted to tell Chad that everything was fine, but I couldn’t get the words out. Hanging my head, I stared at my hands. My fingers were digging into my palms as I clenched them in tight fists, the knuckles white with the effort I exerted in trying to prevent a single tear from falling.
“Rayne!” That voice was different than the one that had only moments ago been attacking the other woman. This one sounded like Bryan’s familiar and deep baritone. “Why are you acting like that?”
“What?” Her confusion was evident in that one word.
“Emma has myasthenia gravis and has to use a cane or walker to help her get around. Today it’s a cane, but if Chad hadn’t been there, she would have fallen,” her brother tried to explain a little more calmly.
Chad jumped in. “She’s definitely not drunk.”
Bryan noticed me? When? I never saw his gaze shift in my direction. Hope ignited deep within me, a small spark ready to flare into an inferno, but I couldn’t lift my head. I felt their eyes on me…judging me, studying me.
“She doesn’t look sick,” Rayne commented.
Another stab, and this time some of my tears escaped. So many people misunderstood my disease. An invisible illness in the eyes of many, and yet, felt acutely by the one suffering. The struggle to breathe, to walk, to move, to talk, to swallow, to see, were all invisible to the naked eye.
“Yeah, well neither does my sister and she has MS,” Chad chastised her. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see they were practically toe to toe.
“Are you all right?” A masculine voice asked, before prying the fingers of my left hand open and pressing a handkerchief into my palm. Bryan had gone around the long way in order to reach me. Going to the other end of the pew, he came around from the far end in order to avoid Chad and his sister.
I shrugged, unable to speak because I feared my tears would fall faster.
“She didn’t mean it. She’s not normally so insensitive.”
I bobbed my head up and down a couple of times. His smell surrounded me, and I wanted to inhale as I leaned into him, but I remained on guard. I did not move a muscle, not even to wipe away the tears. One by one, they dropped down onto my forearms and hands. I wanted to reach out to him, to feel his warmth, however, I knew if I did that, I would be unable to let him go.
“Em? Em, please look at me.” Did I imagine the pleading tone in his voice, or did I hear it only because that was what I wanted to hear?
Slowly, I shook my head. I couldn’t look at him. If I did, my resolve would crumble. I was bound and determined to get over him.
He grabbed my chin gently, and forced my face upwards toward him. Shutting my eyes tightly, I still refused to meet his gaze. My heart needed to be protected, and my closed eyes provided me a small barrier.
But the slightest touch of his hand had awakened my soul. Hope and desire exploded
within me.
“Em…” He whispered before his lips descended upon mine. When I felt our lips press together, I gasped in shock, my lips parting momentarily. It was enough. His tongue swept in to plunder my mouth, and I let him, because this was exactly what I wanted from him. Only him. My heart would probably lie in tatters tomorrow, and yet, I couldn’t stop myself. I would worry about tomorrow later.
A mewling sound came from someone, possibly me. Definitely me, and I mewled again. His tongue contained magic, forcing me to squeeze my thighs together in an effort to dampen the ache.
When he pulled back, I instinctively followed, and heard him chuckle. The rich sound of his laugh forced my eyes open, where I found his face mere inches from mine.
I tried to escape, and leaned back as if he burned me. Maybe he had. It certainly felt like my heart had been scorched when I saw his face so close to mine. His expression mocking me, or so I thought.
“Get away from her!” Chad bellowed, jerking me out of my seat away from Bryan.
Glaring at his friend, Bryan stood up to his full height, towering over Chad by a couple of inches, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t fucking own her.”
“I never said I did, but she’s here with me—”
“Something I intend to rectify,” Bryan interrupted.
Chad pushed me behind him, however, I had left my cane in the pew and had nothing to support myself. This time, Luke caught me before I ended up on the floor. What the hell was going on here? Rectify? What did Bryan mean by that?
Holding onto Luke for dear life, I leaned over to ask Mel, “Shouldn’t we do something about this?”
Instead of answering me immediately, the bride howled with laughter. “Not at all. It’s about time someone decided to man up.” Sighing, she grumbled, “Damn it. I wish I had some popcorn and a beer. This is going to be entertaining.”
My jaw dropped open, and I was fairly certain the crash I heard came from it hitting the floor. “What the fuck?”
Exposed: Book One of The Love Seekers Series Page 29