by Nicole Falls
Before that though? Quality time with my lady. Our first activity of the day was scheduled for seven a.m., so I needed get out of bed to shower soon before we headed out for the day. Bee was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, so I had found a couple things for us to do today that would feed her addiction. I wanted to make our first real date one to remember. After we finished all of the crazy shit, I scheduled a couple’s massage for us since Bee was complaining about being tense due to some friction and recent unrest at work. I wasn’t too keen about some dude having his hands all over her, but sometimes you gotta be a little uncomfortable for the woman you love. Besides he only had sixty minutes and restricted areas, I had the rest of our lives with no restrictions.
Just as I swung my legs out of bed, Bee walked back into the bedroom. She looked freshly showered; with damp hair wearing the Ivy Park gear I’d made her discard last night.
“Hi,” she said, softly.
“Hey.”
“Good morning.”
“Morning. Jury is out on how good it is though.”
“Oh,” she said, arching one brow.
“Come here.”
She took her time rounding the bed to come stand in front of me. As soon as she was in arm’s reach, I pulled her down into my lap, nuzzling and nibbling her neck slightly. Bee giggled and tried pulling back, but I banded my arms tighter around her and kept feasting.
“That make the morning better for you?”
“It’s a start. You ready for today?”
“I’m all showered and set to go, but I would be better prepared if you’d tell me what we’re doing and why we needed to be up so damn early.”
“You trust me?”
There was a slight hesitation before she answered, “I do.”
“Then that’s all you need to know for now.”
With one last lingering kiss, I set her aside on the bed and made my way to the bathroom. She was quick on my heels, but silent. I walked toward the glass-enclosed shower and started the spray. I could feel Bee’s glare on me as I undressed and stepped into the shower. She sat just outside the shower, on the bench of the vanity looking at me as I showered.
“You got money for a show?” I jokingly called out over the spray of the water.
She said nothing, just sat back on the bench leaning into the vanity with a curious expression on her face. I quickly washed and rinsed my body and completed the rest of my morning ritual. Through it all, Bee followed as if some sort of invisible thread linked us, but still said nothing. After a quick call to the front desk to line up a car, I grabbed a light jacket—headed toward the door. Bee remained silent as we descended into the hotel lobby, waiting for the car to take us to the first destination. She wasn’t pouting or obstinate, just eerily silent. It was kind of creeping me out, but I knew once we reached the place she wouldn’t be able to shut up.
Ever since we saw the movie Around the World in Eighty Days as kids, Bee had been obsessed with riding in a hot air balloon. As far as I knew, she hadn’t been up in one yet, so I arranged a sunrise balloon ride. The hot air balloon ride was set to take an hour, floating us about four thousand feet above ground through the Las Vegas sky. We would see views of The Strip, Las Vegas City and Red Rock Canyon while sailing at a smooth eight miles per hour. We pulled into the field to see the workers unfurling the balloon, its bold colors vibrant against the reddish brown rocks of the desert.
“Is that…are we…shut up. SHUT. UP!” Bee shrieked, hitting my bicep with each word.
Our car had barely come to a complete stop before she had the door open, running across the field to get closer to the action. I gave the driver pick up instructions and then slowly walked over to join her. Bee was paying me no attention at all, as she was completely enthralled by the process of the balloon’s inflation and our eventual ascent. While Bee was otherwise entertained, I checked in with a harried looking young woman who buzzed about with a clipboard ensuring all passengers had paid and signed waivers. I walked over to Bee who was standing about ten feet from the nearly fully inflated balloon, eyes wide with her hands covering her mouth. She rocked on the balls of her feet, joy beaming from every bounce. I could tell it was taking everything within her not to squeal aloud. I stood behind her, my hands at her waist, pulling her close to place a kiss to her temple.
“Good surprise?”
“Great surprise.”
An older white guy who looked like the textbook replica of Santa Claus called for the group to come closer together so he could give us the rules of flying. His name was Captain Bill and he was going to be responsible for navigating our flight today. After ensuring we understood the rules and risks associated with going up in the balloon, they allowed us to climb into the wicker basket. I was certain that we’d be pretty cramped with little room to maneuver, but the area we were in was actually quite spacious. Bee had made sure we were in close range to Captain Bill and hadn’t stopped peppering him with questions since we’d boarded. After a while, I hustled Bee away from Captain Bill so we could enjoy the ride together. I completely understood her excitement, but had underestimated the depth of her obsession. She could have easily kept talking to Bill about balloons for the entirety of our ride.
“Hi, remember me?” I said, grabbing her arm to bring her back where I was standing.
She blushed slightly before responding, “Hey.”
“So does this put me in the boyfriend hall of fame or nah?”
“How did you even know I’ve always wanted to go up in one of these?”
“Do you not remember that we were at my house when your obsession started?”
I’d been tasked with babysitting, as our mothers wanted a night out. Everett and Cadence had knocked out on us pretty quickly, but Bee hung in there. We were flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch when we happened on Around the World in Eighty Days. I thought it looked like a shitty movie, but Bee was insistent on watching it. I barely remembered what the movie was about, but I do remember Bee’s awe about watching the characters travel from one destination to another in the hot air balloon.
“Oh my god, that’s right. When you let me watch that terrible movie because I whined until you gave me the remote. One of my finer moments, obviously…”
Captain Bill clapped to get everyone’s attention to let us know we would be landing soon. As we got into position for landing, Bee reached over, grabbing my forearm.
“El?”
“Yes?”
“Did I thank you?”
“For?”
“This,” she said, gesturing around, “I can’t believe you remembered this after all these years have passed. I just…it means more to me that I could ever say. Thank you so much!”
“Anything to see you smile.”
The balloon company had champagne and orange juice waiting for us for post-flight mimosas, so we indulged in that while we waited for the car to come pick us up to take us to our next destination. Bee kept Captain Bill hemmed up with more questions about flying his balloon and I was so thankful when the car service finally appeared. We hopped into the car to get to our next destination, The Stratosphere Hotel.
I’d recently learned that Bee wanted to go skydiving, but that ain’t quite a thing I wanted fuck with, so I found the next best thing—The Sky Jump at the Stratosphere. It was an eight hundred foot harnessed free fall, which came complete with a wrist cam to capture your descent. I wasn’t too cool on willingly jumping off a building, but I also could not let my girl punk me, so I booked us both a jump. In hindsight it wasn’t as bad as I anticipated it would be, but Bee would not stop teasing me about screaming like a little bitch the entire way down. It also didn’t help that she had the workers send the video captured from the wrist cam directly to her email, which was accessible via her phone. So on the ride back to the Drake, she played that damn video at least five times, laughing hysterically.
“Bruh, I thought this was supposed to be a celebration. Sending our boy out in style. This sh
it is wack, man,” my friend Trevor said, as we started a new game of Texas Hold ‘Em.
He was right. The novelty of exclusivity wore off and now we were a group of five dudes, sitting miserably in a private gambling room, halfheartedly playing cards. Even the dealer had grown bored of us, mainly because we were such a sorry bunch that could barely get a good grasp on the rules of the game. Gambling had never been my thing and there’s only so much cognac and cigars that I could take. I’d been with these knuckleheads for the better part of a few hours and I was pretty much over it and ready to call it a night.
“How are we in Vegas and I haven’t seen one bare ass?” Mike yelled from across the room. “Where are the strippers?”
“Damn man, we can’t have a classy night out for once? Why we gotta be worried about seeing some ass shake? I’m getting married tomorrow man. I’m off that,” Trey said.
“Demi said no, huh?” Trevor asked.
“She didn’t outright say it, but did express her opinion about exploitation of women at the hands of men at bachelor parties on a few different occasions. After laying that guilt trip on me, she then said to do what I wanted to do or whateva…”
“So we had to do this boring shit instead? Man, you might as well just signed us up for a wine and painting class, bruh. Same level of bull,” Mike groused.
“Did you tell D she couldn’t have strippers either?” Trevor piped up, holding up his phone. “Because Tami just tweeted a picture of the girls out and I definitely see a girl on a pole in the background over there.”
“Ain’t that a bitch? You can’t exploit women, but she can watch stranger wangs flapping about in the breeze,” muttered Mike.
“Nigga, did you just say stranger wangs? He said a girl on the pole,” I laughed, damn near choking on my drink.
“You heard what I said.”
Mike did have a point, though. Not that I cared one way or the other, but it was mad hypocritical for the girls to get to see a show while all we got to see was each other losing our hard-earned money to the house.
“Let me see that pic,” Mike said, reaching for Trev’s phone. “I know every strip club in this area like the back of my hand. We are crashing their shit.”
And that’s how we ended up turning separate bachelor and bachelorette parties into a coed free for all. I sat on the edge of the group, in a barstool peeping the scene. Mike looked as happy as a pig in shit since we’d ended up at a club fill of women who didn’t know how weak his game was. I looked over to see Demi sitting in Trey’s lap, swaying back and forth to the music. The look on Trey’s face was one of sheer pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her tighter, whispering something into her ear that made her blush. Shortly thereafter, the two of them bid us all a good night and skated out of the club quickly.
I sat sipping my drink, watching Bee talked animatedly with her hands to Cara, Demi’s Maid of Honor. Whatever she was talking about had to be amusing because Cara was barely able to maintain her composure as she doubled over laughing. I finished my drink and walked over to the couch where Bee and Cara were sitting. Seeing my approach, Cara wrapped up her convo with Bee as I was sitting down.
“Hey.”
“Hiiiiiiii,” Bee slurred as she moved closer to me.
I lowered my head for a quick kiss and could taste the bourbon on her tongue.
“It’s a good night?”
“I’m drunk.”
“So you’ve had a good time then?”
“The best time. Demi is so nice. And her friends. All perf. Everything is awesome.”
“You ready to call it a night?”
“You tryna put me to bed?”
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day…and if you keep drinking, a rough one. Just looking out for your best interests.”
Devorah didn’t respond, just looked at me with a small smile playing on her features. Still not saying a word, she stood, swaying slightly in her heels. I stood quickly to steady her, placing an arm around her waist.
As she leaned into me she said, “You know what?”
“…no, what?”
“You’re so good to me. And good for me. And I think I luh…I think I like like you.”
Amused, I replied, “Well I know I like like you, too.”
I expected Bee to be hungover the next morning, but she was awake and ready to go way earlier that I was. When I finally woke up, it was to a note saying that Demi had invited her over to the suite at the Venetian to get dressed with the rest of the ladies. We were the only ones in the group not staying at the Venetian — where the ceremony, dinner, and post-nuptial turn up were taking place — so I probably should have booked us there. But I was more concerned with showing off for my girl. Besides, it wasn’t shit to me getting ready for the wedding outside of putting on the tux, lining up my beard and making sure my boutonniere was straight, so I spent the morning taking advantage of the private lap pool that was only available to those in the penthouse suites at the Drake.
I was tripping slightly because I wanted to talk to Bee about her l-word almost slip last night. At the risk of sounding carried away with feelings associated with this wedding, I felt like we were definitely in a place where we shouldn’t have to be liquored up to express our true feelings about each other. Despite having not said it verbally, she had to know that I was unequivocally in love with her by now, right? Last night wasn’t the best opportunity because I wanted her to hear those words from me when she was cognizant and clearly able to say them back to me. Otherwise, what the hell was the point? I know one thing was for sure; we weren’t getting on a plane back home before having a serious conversation about what we were doing, how we felt about each other, and finally coming out to our damn parents. I picked up my phone to send Bee a text and saw I had a missed call and text from Trey.
Worst Best Man Ever. Where the hell you at? – Trey Ball
Calm down, nigga. I’m on my way to hold your hanky.
Oh you got jokes. I’ll remember this shit when it’s your turn. – Trey Ball
The ceremony went off without a hitch, though it was a bit weird to be a witness to a wedding that was essentially happening in the middle of a shopping mall. Apparently Demi was catching a vibe, whatever the hell that meant, from the Bridge of Love so they decided upon that spot being the place to get married. The inside of the Venetian was like a replica of the streets of Venice, replete with canals and gondolas maneuvering through. The bridge on which the wedding was held was a very small, roped off intimate area with a few seats for everyone besides the happy couple, Cara, the officiant, and me. Bee sat in the front row, dabbing her tears as Trey and Demi pledged their undying love to one another. I admit I got a little choked up when Demi first appeared. Seeing Trey completely break down upon seeing his bride for the first time had all of our eyes tight.
After the ceremony, we headed over to TAO for dinner. How we went from catching a Venetian vibe to Asian vibe, I wasn’t quite sure, but I was rollin’ with it. During dinner Bee was unusually quiet again. I asked if everything was okay and she assured me it was. The only time I got her to perk up was when I asked if she wanted to take one of those gondola rides after we finished up with dinner. She enthusiastically agreed and we split from the group. We’d catch up with them at TAO the nightclub after taking a slight detour to the gondolas. The newly minted bride and groom reserved tables for us to pop bottles in celebration of their love for the duration of the night.
As we stood in line awaiting our gondola ride, I grabbed Bee’s hand turning her to face me.
“So last night…” I started.
“I know,” she cut me off, “I got a little drunk. Okay a lot drunk. Oh my god I wasn’t annoying, was I? Cade always says there’s a fine line between being adorably drunk and annoyingly drunk. Did I cross the line? Did someone say something to you?”
“Hey. Calm down. Nothing like that. I just wanted to ask if you remember what you said to me. When we were getting ready to leave…?”
“I…um
…what?”
Devorah pulled away from me slightly, tucking her head. I immediately grasped her hand again, drawing her flush against me. The line inched up slightly; so I pushed her ahead, still keeping our fingers linked and her attention on me.
“Oh no you don’t. Do you or do you not remember?”
“Remember telling you that I like you? Of course I remember that.”
“You hesitated. You said you luh…like me. Not a stutter. A hesitation, a truncating of words or thoughts.”
“I said what I said.”