What Comes After

by Toppen, Melissa

  I lift my hand to my mouth to stifle the noise, not missing the glare Henna throws my way.

  “I’m sorry.” I push out through my subsiding giggles. “That was pretty funny.” My gaze slides to Abel and the moment my eyes meet his crisp blue ones my chest tightens.

  God, he’s so good looking it almost hurts.

  “What about you, Peyton?” he asks, leaning toward me the smallest fraction.

  “What about me?” I try to contain the sudden rush of nervous energy that hits me like an ocean wave, knocking me backward from the force.

  “Seafood and steak?”

  “I love them both.”

  “Then get the surf and turf. Trust me, you won’t be sorry.”

  “You know what,” I glance down at the menu, locating the item he’s talking about, “I think I might try it.”

  “I think that’s what I’ll have, too.” He gives me a soft grin and I swear my heart melts a little further.

  Dear lord, what is this man doing to me? I can’t remember a time when discussing a menu has ever felt so overwhelming. It’s like he has some magical spell over me that’s growing stronger by the minute, and try as I may, I can’t seem to shake it.

  The four of us make small talk in between our drinks arriving and ordering our food, but I do my best not to look at Abel again. As if keeping my eyes off him will somehow dull this intense energy I feel buzzing between us.

  I don’t know how to describe it. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. And I certainly can’t seem to make sense of it. So instead of trying to understand what this is, I do what I do best. Push it down and hope it goes away.

  Various conversations float around the table over the course of dinner. Because I’m on the very end I miss a lot of what is happening on the opposite side of the table, but I catch little pieces of what people are talking about as I eat.

  The food is incredible but coupled with my nerves and the three glasses of wine I’ve managed to suck down, I find that I’m not very hungry. As such, I spend most of the time picking at my food and nibbling rather than actually consuming much of it.

  “Do you not like it?” Abel asks, watching me shuffle my food around the plate with my fork.

  “No, it’s actually really good,” I say, chancing a glance at him. Of course I regret it the moment I do. I can’t remember a time that I’ve ever been so attracted to someone that I wasn’t able to function normally. I feel flustered and off kilter and I’m not quite sure how to fix it.

  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

  “I’m just not very hungry,” I continue after a long pause.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t either,” he says, my gaze going to his empty plate.

  “Oh yeah, you weren’t hungry at all.” I smile, reaching for my wine glass before taking a long gulp. “So, you ready for this tomorrow?” I ask.

  “Define ready.” He relaxes back into his chair, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. “Ready to get it over with maybe.” He speaks softly so only I can hear him.

  “You and me both,” I admit. “I’ve got so much going on at work and this wedding has been a massive time drain. Not that I mind. I love Sam and I’m honored to be a part of her wedding, but I’m ready for things to go back to normal.”

  “So what do you do?” he asks. “For work, I mean.”

  “I work for a video game testing firm.”

  “A what?”

  “A video game testing firm,” I repeat.

  “Like a company that tests video games? Is that really a thing?” He quirks a brow.

  “It is,” I confirm, not able to contain the smile that slides across my face.

  “So what is it exactly that you do there? You don’t strike me as a gamer?”

  “Probably because I’m not. I work with the developers mainly. I handle all the scheduling and managing the deadlines. It’s not the most exciting job in the world, but I love the company and the people I work with.”

  “You been there long?”

  “About four years. John hired me right out of college after I interned there during my senior year. Back then my job consisted more of fetching coffee and running errands, but I’ve moved up pretty quick. That’s one of the great things about working there. There’s a lot of growth if you’re willing to put in the work.”

  “Which clearly you have.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “She’s a workaholic,” Henna interjects. I glance up to realize that Aaron and her are watching the interaction between us.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I disagree.

  “She’s a workaholic,” she addresses Abel directly. “Though she probably wouldn’t focus so much on work if she had other things going on in her life.”

  Heat instantly creeps up my neck and across my cheeks. I have to forcefully resist the urge to kick Henna under the table.

  I love my friend dearly, but sometimes she doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. I give her a look that tells her that, but her only response is a sweet smile as her gaze goes back to Abel.

  “So, what about you, Abel? We know you play music. Anything else?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you make a living doing that?”

  “For the last decade anyway.” He nods, taking a pull from the beer bottle in front of him.

  “Before he left for California, he was playing six or seven nights a week,” Aaron chimes in.

  “I’ll get there again.” Abel takes another long drink.

  “I’m sure you will,” Aaron agrees. “I know I used to give you hell about not getting a real job,” —He makes quote marks with his fingers— “but after seeing you up on-stage last weekend, I don’t know, man. I feel like I finally get it.”

  “Took you long enough.”

  “I guess I can agree with that.” Aaron chuckles.

  “We should totally go see him play again,” Henna tells Aaron. “Where are you playing next?”

  “Mulligan’s on Thursday night.”

  “Mulligan’s?” she asks Aaron, who nods, sliding an arm around her shoulder.

  “Sounds good to me,” he confirms.

  “What about you, Peyton? You in?” Henna pulls her bottom lip into her mouth to keep herself from smiling, as if I don’t know her game.

  “I’m not sure. I have a lot going on next week.”

  “Shut up.” Henna swipes her hand through the air in my direction. “You’ll come.”

  “So I can play the third wheel?” I gesture between her and Aaron. “I think I’ll pass.” I drink the remainder of my wine, ignoring the feeling of Abel’s gaze hot on the side of my face.

  The truth is, I want nothing more than to go. To see Abel up on that stage, to exist in his presence. Which are the exact reasons why I shouldn’t go.

  “Mulligan’s is a pretty incredible place,” Aaron tells me.

  “Just promise you’ll think about it,” Henna concedes when she realizes I’m not budging.

  “I promise I’ll think about it.” But I only say it so she will shut up.

  “You should come.” It’s the last thing I expect out of Abel and the one thing that has the power to melt my resolve in an instant. “Mulligan’s is a good time. You’d have fun.”

  A clinking of glass grabs my attention, and I’ve never been more thankful for an interruption in my life. “Can I have everyone’s attention?” Sam’s dad stands at the head of the table, a wine glass in his hand.

  We spend the next five minutes listening to the father of the bride make what has to be the longest toast I’ve ever witnessed, yet I don’t hear a single thing he says.

  I’m too busy tracing the side of Abel’s face with my eyes. Taking in his sharp, scruff covered jaw and the way his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. It’s like I’m a woman obsessed.

  Yeah, I’ve been attracted to men before, but never like this. Never where it felt I was going to spontaneously combust just by looking at a person.

  May
be it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve been intimate with a man. Maybe it’s because I know he’s hurting, and I want to be the one who takes away his pain. Or maybe he has this power over every woman and I’m too weak to resist his pull. Whatever it is, the longer I look at him the more bothered I become.

  So much so, that by the time Sam’s dad finally finishes, I have to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand out of fear that I might be drooling.

  It’s the wine, I tell myself. I’m a little intoxicated which always makes every situation feel more intense. But then what’s my excuse for earlier? What’s my reasoning for practically undressing the man with my eyes every time we are near each other?

  I shake my head, trying to clear the cluttered thoughts.

  “You okay?” Abel asks and I quickly flatten my expression, not sure what he may have seen on my face that would make him think I wasn’t okay.

  “Yeah, fine.” I throw on an easy smile, not sure how much longer I can keep this up.

  Chapter Eight

  Abel

  I don’t know what it is about this girl, but she has made what I assumed would be a really shitty night halfway enjoyable.

  I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed watching a woman squirm the way she did for most of the night.

  Peyton blows out a slow breath next to me, resting further into the backseat of my brother’s car.

  “You okay over there?” My eyes slide to where her hands are splayed out across her slender stomach.

  “I feel like I’m about to bust,” she admits.

  “How? You barely ate anything.”

  “It’s the wine. Always makes me blow up. That’s why I don’t drink it often.”

  “I see.” I nod slowly, not sure how to fill the lull in conversation when she falls silent next to me.

  “Abel, do you want me to swing you by your place since it’s on the way back to the church?” Aaron asks from the front seat.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” I let my gaze drift out the window.

  Tonight has been unexpected. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to someone outside of Claire. Nothing earth shattering or groundbreaking, but just talked. Every day normal small talk. It made me feel normal for the first time in a long time. Not that I forgot about the hollow void in my chest for even a moment, but it seemed easier to live with.

  It isn’t long before Aaron is pulling up in front of my apartment building. I look at Peyton whose focus is anywhere but on me.

  I open my mouth to say something, anything, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything to say.

  “You want me to pick you up tomorrow or are you going to meet us at the church?” Aaron asks as I unlatch my seatbelt and prepare to exit the car.

  “I’ll just meet you there.” That way I can sneak out of the reception the moment it’s socially acceptable to do so.

  “Okay, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.” I open the door, pausing for a split second to look at Peyton. “I’ll see you later,” I tell her, watching her gaze slide to mine.

  “Yeah.” She smiles. “See you tomorrow.”

  With that, I climb out of the car, resisting the urge to look back at Peyton one last time.

  ——

  “Look at Andrew up there.” Alex slides up next to me, gesturing through the open doors to where our brother is standing at the alter looking like he’s about to puke.

  My mind flashes back to my own wedding day. It was nothing like this. Finley and I got married in a tiny chapel in Vegas. There was a total of four people in the room, including the two of us. I wasn’t nervous or uneasy. In fact, I had never felt surer of anything in my entire life. I wanted her to be my wife. It was that simple.

  I still remember how she looked. The smile she wore as we stood at the alter and exchanged vows, the way her green eyes filled with tears as I promised to love her until death, and every moment of existence that would follow.

  That was when she was still well enough to be Finley. Before the illness stripped away the girl I loved and robbed her from my life.

  I’ll always remember that day as one of the happiest of my life, because it was. A day when the world existed for just the two of us.

  “Yeah, he looks nervous as hell,” I finally comment, forcing myself back to the present.

  “I know I was when Tanya and I got married. Of course, that was nothing compared to the day Malory was born. There’s nothing like looking down at this tiny person you created and realizing there isn’t one thing you wouldn’t do to protect them. I was filled with so much happiness and so much fear at the same time.”

  “You’re a good dad,” I tell him, clasping him on the shoulder. It’s rare that I see Alex show even a sliver of vulnerability, and while it would be easy to give him shit, the way he would likely do me, I don’t have it in me to do so.

  “Thanks, man.” His gaze goes back to Andrew who keeps fidgeting with the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket. “Wonder how long it will be before Sam starts popping out little Andrews.”

  “You really think they’ll have kids? Neither strike me as the parenting type.”

  “I think they will. At least I hope they will. My kids are going to need cousins to play with. Considering Adam is married to his job and you and Aaron aren’t seeing anyone, Andrew is my only hope.”

  “Aaron’s seeing someone.”

  “Yeah, for all of two weeks. You know Aaron. How long do you think that will actually last?”

  “He seems to really like this one.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Aaron chooses this moment to step into the conversation.

  “How I need Andrew to pop out some babies since none of you fuckers are on your way to giving Malory cousins anytime soon.”

  “Yeah, they can have fun with that. I don’t want kids.” He crinkles his nose.

  “You say that now. Wait until you meet the right girl,” Alex disagrees.

  I’d met the right girl. Someone I saw myself having children with. Someone I wanted to grow old with. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

  I swallow past the hard knot that forms at the base of my throat. Today is already so much harder than I’d anticipated.

  “Speaking of the right girl.” Aaron’s gaze goes off into the distance and a wide smile pulls up the corners of his lips.

  Alex and I follow his line of sight to see the bridesmaids making their way toward us. My eyes hone in on Peyton and it’s like everyone else disappears.

  She looks incredible. The elegant blue dress she’s wearing clings to her slender frame in all the right places, accented by the way her hair is pulled up off her shoulders with little tendrils falling around her face. Her lips are painted a soft pink and she’s holding a bouquet of white flowers wrapped in ribbon that matches her dress.

  I suck in a breath through my nose, trying to rationalize the way my heart picks up speed at the sight of her.

  “Hey.” She smiles, stopping directly in front of me.

  “Hey.” It comes out funny and I immediately clear my throat. “You look beautiful,” I tell her, gesturing to the dress.

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks turn scarlet and she looks away for a long moment before her eyes come back to mine. “You look handsome,” she returns.

  “Thanks. Just something I had lying around,” I joke, sliding my hands down the front of my tuxedo jacket. “You ready for this?” I add, offering her my arm as the first couple enters the church and begins making their way down the aisle.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She slides her arm through mine and turns her focus forward.

  “You seem nervous,” I whisper, leaning my lips close to her ear.

  I don’t miss the way she shivers when my breath dances across the side of her neck.

  “I am nervous,” she whispers back, not looking at me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I tell her, straightening my posture as we move toward the door.

 
“Just don’t let me fall.” She looks up at me for a brief moment.

  “Never.” I smile.

  “Abel. Peyton. Go,” Heather cues us and side by side we step through the doors.

  Peyton’s arm tightens around mine and I have to resist the urge to laugh at how nervous she is. But I get it. Most people don’t like having hundreds of eyes on them. Me on the other hand, I’m used to it. It kind of comes with the territory when you play music for a living.

  We manage to make it to the end of the aisle without any hiccups. I release her arm so that she can take her place with the other bridesmaids while I head to the opposite side and position myself next to Adam. When I spot Claire sitting in the third row back, I smile, instantly feeling more at ease.

  Claire has become somewhat of a security blanket for me. I don’t have any explanation for it other than her connection to Finley. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not the only reason. Claire is an incredible person and over the last three years has become like a sister to me, but I don’t think we’d be nearly as close if it weren’t for our shared loss.

  I turn my attention to the back of the church as those in attendance stand and Sam enters the room with her father.

  While I know it’s customary to watch the bride walk down the aisle, I can’t stop my gaze from sliding to Peyton instead.

  I watch her expression shift from anxious to smiling to tearing up all in the matter of thirty seconds and I’m so enthralled in watching her that I don’t realize Sam has reached us until the minister begins to speak.

  Snapping out of my fog, I turn my attention to my brother and his bride. And even though I try like hell to keep it there, I can’t stop myself from stealing glances at Peyton every chance I get.

  ——

  “Well, we survived.” I nudge my arm against Peyton’s as we sit side by side in the limousine on our way to the reception hall.

  “We did.” She smiles, her gaze locked on Sam and Andrew who are snuggled together in the back of the car, sharing a private conversation. “They look so happy.”

  “They do,” I agree, trying to keep my thoughts from straying to the past.