by Melissa Jane
I turn to Jacob ready to warn him off any snarky remarks that he’s no doubt has been harboring this whole experience. But while his jaw twitches and he avoids eye contact, Jacob chooses not to engage in war.
And it makes me feel like shit.
Once my cuff is unlocked, I pull the handle to leave, but it won’t budge.
“You have to wait for me. I’m sorry,” the lady says, uncuffing Jacob. When she’s finally ready, she uses her small, blue light to punch in a code. When the door unlocks and as she opens it, I carefully brush past and stalk toward the front where the rest of the group stands waiting.
“You didn’t finish?” Vicki asks, brows knitted together. She spots Jacob over my shoulder, her wide eyes darting between us. “Oh… I see. This is going to be a long night.”
~
“Damn girl, where you putting all those?” Vicki asks after my fourth tequila shot. The party is continuing at Risqué, a club dedicated to joint bachelorette and stag nights. It’s ridiculously grand and opulent with a heavy dose of sex and far better than any regular club has to offer. Both male and female strippers take to the stage and frequent tables. While the wedding party seems caught up in the festivities, Jacob couldn’t seem less interested, even with the blonde bombshell doing her best to gain his attention with those overly generous, naked breasts. Pulling the lemon from my mouth, I signal to the barman for another wine.
“It’s keeping me sane.”
“What the hell happened between you two in that escape room?”
“Just a whole lotta truth and a whole lotta avoiding the truth.”
“Is Jacob gay?”
I snap my attention her way. “What? Why would you ask that?”
“Well, he doesn’t seem much interested in the set of tits and pussy practically sitting in his lap.”
“He’s not gay, I can assure you.”
She turns with a knowing smile. “Of course, he’s not gay. His eyes are only for you. Have been ever since he walked into games night.”
“I don’t wanna talk about Jacob.”
“Well, your tequila shots aren’t going to give you any good advice. Trust me on that.”
“Vicki, this is your night.” I laugh. “Well, actually, this is your month.”
She playfully slaps my arm. “Shut up, whore.”
“No, but seriously, Jacob and I have a history, and it ended terribly. I wasn’t expecting him to suddenly walk back into my life, and it isn’t fair he’s occupying my thoughts when I should be focusing on you.”
“Well, one day you’re going to have to tell me about this history because right now you only have me speculating and trust me, this brain of mine is coming up with all sorts of stories.”
I pass Vicki a wine. “Trust me, when I find out the rest myself, I’ll be sure to tell you. Cheers.” We clink glasses, and as Vicki takes a sip, I see her wide eyes startled by something or someone over my shoulder, her finger pointing to me.
A hand clasps over mine pulling me away from Vicki, who takes my wine before it spills.
“Oh, no… you should take the bride,” I say to the sexy-as-sin male stripper leading me back to the group. Had I not been an emotional mess due to Jacob’s return, I would probably enjoy the show. “Please, Vicki should be getting the—”
The stripper pulls me against his already naked and rock-hard chest effectively cutting off my protests, before sending me onto a dancer’s dip. I hold on tight pleading with him to choose someone else.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks in a voice he probably uses in the bedroom just before performing his unspeakable acts.
“R-Rosie,” I stammer
“Rosie, I’m Sam.”
“Hi, Sam. You should really get Vic—”
I’m pulled back into Sam’s arms where he proceeds to lower me onto the table where the group is sitting around. The same table staff have just cleared and cleaned for the new show—starring me.
“Yes, girl,” Amber squeals clapping in excitement, and completely ignorant to my horrified pleas.
“Lucky, bitch,” Katy says squeezing my arm.
Max and Peter also sit on that side, grinning ear to ear with the debauchery about to take place. Peter will be pleased seeing as I’d overheard him saying I should loosen up. Perhaps he’s right. But then again, his life didn’t turn into a shit storm. Hands hook under my arms dragging me further back while Sam climbs on the table, legs either side as he stands over me, one leg gently bouncing to the beat of the music.
This is not good.
He turns, falling to the table, his groin only inches from my face as his hips sway in the sixty-nine position. Sam’s legs block those sitting around me, a small mercy I take. I stare up at the glittery ceiling wishing I could be zapped up by some passing alien. Sam moves position until he’s now practically on top of me. His hips gyrating with a disturbing enthusiasm.
Fuck my life.
I make the mistake of turning to the left. It’s almost like I have no control over the magnetism that pulls my eyes to his. While Sam grinds his rather happy groin against mine, his lips trailing down my neck, Jacob looks ready to explode in anger. His rage is palpable, and as his narrowed stare penetrates deep into my soul, I not only get a taste of his jealousy.
I feel his ten years of pain.
I feel the years of story he hasn’t yet been able to share.
Unable to stand the sight any longer, Jacob pushes his chair back until it tips and stalks out of sight. Sam finishes his routine, stripping down to his very unsexy, very orange G-string. Katy then stuffing a handful of dollars in the thin straps and grabbing a cheeky feel while she’s at it.
Sam takes my hand and helps me off the table. I return his smile because he seems a lovely guy and professional at his job. Kissing my cheek, he wishes me a goodnight and disappears off the main floor. I’m straightening and smoothing my dress when Max appears.
“If he’s put you in the mood…” he begins, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear, “… we can take it somewhere else.”
Grabbing his hand, I nudge it aside. “Max, you’re a really good-looking guy. But you’d only be staring in the mirror the whole time, which would be more like having sex with yourself. Which you probably do regularly.”
He smiles in what he deems is sexy. “Well, it just so happens I do. Wanna know who I’ve been thinking about recently while I’m—”
“Fuck off, Max,” Jacob warns from behind my flirter.
Max turns like he’s been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar but then straightens his shoulders ready to stand his ground. “Rosie’s single, man. That means she fair game.”
Jacob steps forward. “Refer to her as fair game again, and I’ll—”
“Okay, man, calm down.” Max looks between us with obvious annoyance. “You two should really figure your shit out.” He walks over to where Amber stands at the bar, his hand snaking around her waist. Cretin.
“Thanks,” I say, turning to walk back to the table. Jacob takes my hand in his, and I close my eyes against the sensation that surges through me.
“Rosie, wait.”
I face him once more. “Jacob, I know I said you should just tell me what you have to say, but whatever it is can wait until after the wedding. I need to focus on Vicki and ensure she’s happy and having the best time.”
“Maybe so, but you deserve to know—”
“I deserved to know ten years ago. I can wait another one and a half weeks.”
Even if it kills me.
“But for now, can we just pretend to like each other, so whatever it is that’s happening between us doesn’t overshadow Vicki and Jase’s wedding?”
“Still so fucking stubborn.”
I’m overcome with a sense of melancholy. “You used to love that about me.” Turning on my heel, I hear his reply, one that’s like taking a hammer to my heart.
“I still do.”
~
“Come on, Rosie, come with me,” Vicki dr
unkenly pleads, snatching my hand and leading me away from the Clubhouse.
“As your most sober friend, I don’t think this is a great idea. You can have your membership revoked.”
It’s going on four in the morning, and it’s still dark outside, no hint of a sunrise looming over the horizon. The Clubhouse closed four hours ago, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped this lot from overrunning the golf course. The moon above casts a sensual silver glow over the green, throwing our bodies into silhouettes. Jase and Peter are further ahead smashing glow- in-the-dark balls down the fairway. Even in their drunken state, they still think Tiger Woods has nothing on them. Amber and Max have disappeared into the shadows no doubt fulfilling their fantasies they’re too scared to do sober. Katy has passed out, making herself comfortable on a Clubhouse pool lounge. And Jacob, well, Jacob left, excusing himself from the festivities shortly after our interaction.
That leaves me with Vicki. A very inebriated Vicki. Yet, even while in these drunken states, she turns into a philosophy major.
“And as your drunk friend, I’m telling you the universe wants us here because otherwise we wouldn’t be… here. Sit.” Grabbing my hand, she yanks me down onto the green. Laying side by side, we stare at the glowing moon, bathing us in its beauty. After a few moments silence with only Jase and Peter cheering in the distance, Vicki continues, “Tonight just kicked ass, Rosie. Like, that was fucking epic.”
I squeeze her hand. “Only the best for you.”
“You just wait, Rosie.”
“What for?”
“When it comes time for your bachelorette party, it’s going to be fucking awesome just like mine. That is, of course, if I’ll be your maid of honor.” A few seconds pass. “Matron of honor. I mean your fucking matron of honor ‘cause you know, I’ll be married and shit.”
We both giggle but then her tone takes an edge of seriousness. “I hope you and Jacob get married one day.”
My heart suffers a brutal blow. “Vicki, why on earth would you think that?”
“Because I’ve seen firsthand how that man looks at you.”
“We have a history, and it didn’t end well. So, if he’s looking at me a certain way it’s because he doesn’t know how to tread.”
“Bullshit, Rosie. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world for you.”
I don’t know what she means by that.
“And when he does let his guard down for even a second, it’s like he wants to devour you. Like not just devour, but to take his time doing it.”
“You see that?”
She scoffs. “Babe, we all see… everyone, except you. That man makes us all horny just watching him watching you. I bet he’s a fucking god in bed. And if you ever do fuck him, I mean… fuck him again… I want to hear every sordid detail. It could be what gets me through fifty years of marriage.”
“You need my sex life to get you through marriage to Jase?”
“I love the boy, don’t get me wrong, but… he certainly doesn’t look at me the way Jacob looks at you.”
Once again, there’s silence between us as her words sink in. Under the magic of the moon’s silver glow, Vicki makes her final prediction.
“You two are like peas and carrots. You’re meant to be together. You just don’t know it yet.”
20
NOW
“Hol-ly shit!” Amber steps out from the black SUV that picked us up from town and stands with me, gawking at the majesty of the Château De Therry. “Are we extras in Downtown Abbey or something?”
“I don’t know about that, but this is definitely the most magical place I’ve ever been.”
“I can’t believe this is going to be our home for the next week.”
I can’t either. “Jase and Vicki don’t do things by halves.”
As if her ears are burning, the huge double doors swing open, and Vicki, wearing her stylish tennis whites, comes running out. Her arms are outstretched while squealing in excitement before descending the stone staircase. “Welcome! I’m so glad you’re here. You’re the last to arrive.” Wrapping her arms tightly around each of us, she pulls away and faces the château. “Isn’t this the most exquisite place ever?”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to leave?” Amber declares.
“This is perfect for your wedding, Vicki. It really couldn’t get any more perfect than this.”
Porters step down the stairs and take our bags while Vicki leads us inside like an excited dog welcoming its owner home. If I thought the outside was grand, the inside is a palace. Vicki gives us the tour by taking us through the many entertaining areas. There’s formal lounge after formal lounge, a Beauty and the Beast style library, the gentlemen’s lodge, the formal art gallery—despite their being priceless art lining every wall around the château—the chef’s kitchen which sides onto the residence kitchen, and finally, the twelve bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask, curious as to why we haven’t seen anyone from the wedding party.
“The outside is even more ridiculous,” Vicki admits. “I wouldn’t be surprised if half of them are lost.” She points to the end room. “Amber, that’s your room. And this…” she points to the door next to me, “… is your room, my sweet pea. Meet me by the pool in ten? I know for a fact there’s a mojito with your name on it waiting for you. I’m going to get changed.”
“Say no more.” I giggle because she knows how to win me over. “I’ll be there in eight.”
Vicki kisses my cheek and slaps my ass before running back down the hall. “Your itinerary is on the bed,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Of course, it is.” I giggle.
Vicki without an itinerary is like a supermarket without food. It just wouldn’t make sense. I read through the comprehensive list which has crucial wedding details such as the rehearsal dinner, pre-day spa treatments, and last-minute fittings, to group activities involving clay shooting, croquet, horse riding, and a games night, to quiet time which I’m sure will be most appreciated. Knowing there are a few hours to burn, I prepare for the pool. My bags are already in my room, so I quickly change into a bikini I bought especially for the occasion, throw over a kaftan, and I’m ready to leave. I haven’t even set foot in the hall when the door directly across from mine opens, leaving a just as stunned Jacob standing on the threshold.
“Hi,” he says, taking the lead.
“Hi.” I clear my throat because although I knew he’d be here, I hadn’t seen or heard from him since the night at the club when he’d left without warning. “Is that your room?”
“It is.”
“This is mine.”
“I can see that.”
“Okay, great.”
“Great.”
“Excuse me.”
Jacob gestures for me to go first before he closes his door and follows me down the hall. My cheeks are reddened, and I even feel my normal stride morphing into something awkward knowing he’s watching my every move.
One more week, that’s all it is.
Just. One. More. Week.
The whole French door frontage of the château opens up to an extensive patio where, no doubt, many formal events have taken place. Beyond that is a dreamy infinity pool which overlooks the magnificent manicured grounds that can rival that of Marie Antoinette.
“Wow,” I say under my breath. Jase and Vicki have outdone themselves.
Keeping up pace, I turn to the right while Jacob turns to the left. Joining Vicki and Amber at the sun lounges, I watch with partially disguised curiosity as Jacob is greeted by the boys. They all seem to liven up in his presence, a trait he’s had since we were teenagers.
“Oh yeah,” Vicki says, handing me my promised mojito. “I forgot to tell you that Jase put Jacob across the hall from you.”
I smile at her blame game which I’m not falling for. “Jase chose for Jacob to be directly across the hall?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm…”
Ta
king a sip of the most delicious mojito I’ve ever had in my life, I lean back on the sun lounge and blissfully warm into the sun’s glorious heat.
“Holy sweet mother of sin,” Vicki mumbles like she’s just witnessed her next orgasm walking past.
“Rosie, if you’re not going to do anything with that, then step aside already. Because… damn,” Amber affirms.
Taking the bait, I prop myself on my elbows and lower my sunglasses.
Fuck. Me.
I catch Jacob as he’s tossing his white shirt aside. A gloriously smooth, tanned and chiseled Adonis body stands on the pool’s edge. While he continues talking with Jase, his muscles move and flex holding us perverts in a trance.
“Just look at those biceps,” Vicki coos.
“I bet his favorite position is taking his woman up against a wall,” Amber drools.
“That V-line isn’t legal. It just isn’t.”
“I wonder how many women have traced their tongue over it.”
“Enough,” I say sitting up with a chuckle. Barely gaining their attention, I come in stronger. “You’re a bunch of horn-bag hoes. You…” I pointedly stare at Amber “… were practically begging Max to impregnate you last week on the golf course at the first hole.” With a knowing smile, Amber simply shrugs and settles back into her lounge. “And you, Vicki, should be only thinking of your future husband’s V-line given you’re about to marry him in less than a week.”
“Don’t be a hater, Rosie,” she replies, sipping on her mojito. “Since you aren’t laying claim to that fine specimen, we are allowed to appreciate a man who keeps in perfect shape. And besides…” she lowers her sunglasses and smiles coyly, “… Jase is a hottie, but he most certainly cannot hold me up against the wall for longer than thirty seconds before getting tired. So, let us horn-bags live a little.” She too settles back into her lounge before springing back up. “And what the hell is wrong with you that you’re not appreciating all he has on display because you know you could be enjoying it a lot more up close and personal than the rest of us.”