by L. V. Lewis
“Excuse us for a moment, Chelsea.”
I pull him far enough away from Chelsea for us to have a private conversation, and I’m about to let him down easy when he goes for the jugular, as if us sharing a room gives him some right to do so.
“Where the fuck have you been, Alyssa? Sky’s parents made toasts and it was quite embarrassing that my date, the maid of honor, who was once dumped by the best man, was conspicuously absent along with the fucking best man.”
I give him my who the fuck do you think you’re talking to look, and I’m ready to read him the riot act with both barrels, before I catch a glimpse of Dylan chatting with Brody. He’s thrown his head back and is laughing at something Brody’s said, and I am distracted by how sated and peaceful he looks since our interlude on the beach. The Alyssa who just got some from her gorgeous drummer is not in the mood to ruin her sexual high.
“You know what, Eric. You’re right. It was selfish of me to go off without giving you a heads-up. I’m sorry.”
He looks as if he was prepared to tell me off further, but after my apology he closes his mouth.
“I also need to follow the advice of a very wise man who told me recently that people who waste time being angry over petty estrangements that keep them apart are foolish. Dylan gets me like no other guy ever has, probably ever will.”
“So, you’re getting back together with him right now. Even before we leave the island?”
“That would be a yes,” I say. “You’re a great guy, Eric, but I don’t think we have enough in common to be anything more than friends.”
“Well, this is awkward,” he says. “Do I need to make other accommodations for the duration of my stay?”
“Not if you don’t mind having me as a roommate.” I don’t share my plan right away to ask for a new room assignment.
“I don’t mind,” he says. He takes a look back at Chelsea. “Besides, Chelsea’s date is bailing on her with Dylan’s date. I’m not sure with all the guests here now if they have any extra rooms available.”
I look scandalized by what he’s saying because I don’t want to have to explain to him why that doesn’t surprise me. And I truly am a bit worried that my plans to bunk with Dylan might be thwarted.
“Oh my gosh, I mean, I know Dylan only brought Dani because his mother tried to hook them up. So, Finn and Dani? Well, that might give you an opportunity to explore some possibilities with Chelsea, huh?”
He gives me a reluctant smile. “She is an actor like me, and she’s well-connected in Hollywood.” Nothing about she’s hot and I’m really into her, but I’m not going to make that my problem.
“There you go,” I say, extending my hands out to him as if I’m giving him my permission on a platter. Then I hook a thumb over my shoulder toward Sky, Brody and Dylan. “I’m just going to go hang out with my best friends.”
“You mean with Dylan, right?”
I don’t try to bullshit him. “Yes, he would be included in that number. Like I said, we’ve wasted enough time.”
“I won’t be put out if you don’t show back up at the bungalow tonight.” He waggles his eyebrows. “See you around.” He makes a beeline back to Chelsea.
Twenty-Four
Velaa, The Maldives
DYLAN
My friend Brody is a damned good manager if I have to say so myself. Without making a big deal out of it he calls a brief meeting with just the couples involved, primarily because two of the guys are his former bandmates and in his wedding party, and orchestrates a discreet bungalow move.
“There have been some recent…uh developments that necessitate a changing of rooming arrangements for the duration of our vacation,” he says. “Because Sky and I want the next forty-eight hours leading up to our wedding to be as drama-free as possible, we’re suggesting that Dylan and Alyssa room together in the best man suite. Eric and Chelsea will keep the maid of honor suite, and Finn and Danielle will share his bungalow. Any questions?”
Chelsea raises her hand. “Is there a possibility that we could have a foldaway bed? I like Eric, but we’re still getting to know one another.”
Eric chimes in. “There’s a comfortable couch in the suite. I can bunk there.”
Chelsea smiles. “Thanks, Eric.”
Dani asks the next question. “Is it too late to have maid service?”
Sky fields that one. “Probably, but we can get them to bring fresh towels and linens tonight and we can have them do full service tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Dani says with a grateful smile.
“Thank you all for being so accommodating of these new arrangements. We’ll see you guys tomorrow morning for breakfast.”
We disperse at Brody’s final words, the couples parting at the door and going in different directions. Sky and Brody return to their party which is ongoing at the restaurant. Finn and Dani head toward his bungalow, and Chelsea and Eric head to the gym of all places, probably because it’s the only relatively private place they can go to talk where there’s no one else around tonight.
I escort Alyssa to her bungalow to help her move her things to mine, not because I don’t feel the same chivalry for Dani. Finn is perfectly capable of doing that for her if he wishes to. Eric doesn’t have shit to do, but he will be joined by Chelsea. She’s the only player in this couple’s shuffle who put up a bit of a fuss, or so I heard when I got back to the party after Alyssa and I made love on the beach. I think it was only to save face, or maybe because she felt some reaction from her was expected. She and Finn had only just met a couple of weeks before the wedding when she’d been filming in Seattle, and their relationship had been purely physical.
Alyssa and I make short work of gathering her things. Eric doesn’t immediately come back. Perhaps he’s helping Chelsea move. I really don’t care about anything but getting the beautiful woman beside me in close proximity to me for the remainder of this vacation, and as much as I can afterwards. I carry Alyssa’s largest piece of luggage and her carryon while she folds a garment bag over her arm, and we walk together to my bungalow. When we enter the bedroom we both take note that the linens and towels have been delivered.
“Wow, these folks at Velaa work fast,” Alyssa says as I help her unpack her things. “I don’t even know if all this unpacking is worth it. We’ll be packing to leave in three days.”
“It’s better than living out of a suitcase,” I say.
She shrugs. “It’s mostly shorts and bathing suits anyway.” She moves to hang the garment bag in the closet containing her maid of honor dress. “Who cares if that shit is folded just so?”
When she turns back to me I pull her into my arms. “I like you better naked anyway.”
She grins. “You would say that. You’re a healthy American male.”
That comment makes me think about the NHL which is currently in remission. If I’m going to stay healthy I’ll need to get a referral to an oncologist in LA since I won’t be going back to Downers Grove immediately. Our new contract with Alyssa as our lead singer goes into effect immediately. Brody expects us all to go back to Sky’s place and start getting some songs down for The Savages Revival Tour. My oncologist is aggressively following my progress because he wants to nip any recurrence in the bud before it has an opportunity spread. I’m all for that plan.
I push those thoughts out of my mind for now, because I have Alyssa back, and she’s my focus right now. We’re removing all the linens from the bed when my stomach growls.
“This healthy American male might need a late night snack if he’s going to stay that way,” I say. “You want to go back to the party and plunder it for some food?”
“Only if we can bring it back here and eat it in bed,” She says with a smirk. “We’ve got a lot of months of togetherness to make up for.”
“You’re damn straight,” I say and take her hand and lead her out of our bungalow and back to the party.
It feels liberating to go back among our friends tonight, however briefly, as a confirmed co
uple. We may get a few strange looks for the next seventy-two hours, but I have zero fucks to give.
After the wait staff builds us two insane plates of food to take back to the bungalow, we encounter Sky and Brody as we’re about to leave again. We say our goodnights and share the obligatory hugs, but Brody has to get some good-natured ribbing in.
“You know we’re going to be gone an entire month once we leave here. Can’t you guys hang out with us a little longer?” Alyssa and I are deer in fucking headlights at that moment, because we’re not sure if us skipping out is a huge faux pas. Brody and Sky even pout in concert, but then they crack up.
“Your faces when I suggested you stick around. Priceless,” Brody says.
“Alyssa and Dylan sitting in a tree…” Sky sings.
I don’t dare comment on that one, but Alyssa has no problem whatsoever.
“What are we fucking five years old, you guys?”
“No,” Sky says, head held high and not at all chastened by her friend’s sarcastic words. “I haven’t had a chance to tease you about a guy in forever. This is my moment, and I’m taking it. So deal.”
Alyssa’s eyes go skyward, and she shakes her head, but she’s grinning in the end. “Okay, but there’s going to be a time limit to this teasing.”
“Three months,” Sky says.
“One,” Alyssa counters.
“Oh no. I’m going to be gone a month. I’ll need at least two and a half months to get it all out of my system.”
“Alright, bitch,” Alyssa says with true affection.
Now it’s Brody’s turn to roll his eyes. “What is it with women using that term affectionately, and when we say it they get all up in arms.”
“It’s because we know we don’t mean it in a derogatory manner,” Sky explains. “It has a decidedly negative connotation when guys, or other girls, say it.”
While all this is going on I’m happily holding the food and waiting for our host and hostess to give us leave.
“Oh, It’s like locker room banter, but for women,” Brody says. “Thanks, babe.” He gives Sky a sweet kiss.
Alyssa sighs and folds her arms. “You two are full of shit. Brody you know damn well why we talk like that to each other. And Sky knows she doesn’t need permission to razz me about my love life. She does that shit all the time.” She gestures toward them with a finger. “You two are cockblocking.”
Sky and Brody begin to protest simultaneously.
“What are you talking about?” Brody says.
“See, I didn’t even know that was on the table–” Sky says.
“Hold up.” Alyssa looks around. “What you two need to be doing right about now, is keeping Elaine away from Sky’s stepmother.”
When Sky and Brody begin to furtively search the crowd for the ladies in question, Alyssa grabs my arm and makes a run for it. I look back briefly and see that Brody and Sky are yukking it up at our expense.
“Heyyy,” I say. “If we don’t slow down, we won’t have any food left to consume when we get back to our room.” I stop and adjust the plates in my hands. Only then does Alyssa pull up, breathing hard as we reach the sand at the end of the pier.
“Oh shit! I need to jog more often,” she says.
“Like you’re going to get up early and run.”
She looks at me as if she’s trying to figure out if that statement is going to offend her, then laughs. “You’re so fucking right. I’m not running anywhere unless it’s away from a serial killer or some shit.”
We start walking more sedately toward the pier leading to our bungalow. “Then maybe you’d better at least up that dial on the treadmill at the gym. Pretty soon you’re going to be running away from rabid fans.”
She grimaces playfully. “I forget. The Savages’ fans… are savages. I might need to hire a personal trainer.”
“I’ll need to do that, too, when we get back to LA.” I’m not going to be going back to Downers Grove for a while, so I won’t be able to access my current trainer and nutritionist. Who knows, though, if things work out for Finn and Dani, my current nutritionist might be around more than I believe.
Alyssa unlocks our door, since my hands are full. I wait as she enters first, with me hot on her heels. She flops on the sofa, and I deposit our food on the table and join her. I snake my arm around her waist and pull her close to me. Since our unplanned rendezvous earlier, I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her. I’ve suffered the awful fate of not touching her significantly for a solid year. I think I’m due for a bit of catching up.
She looks up into my eyes and we lock gazes for a few seconds before we share a languid kiss that heats up quickly. We come up for air when my stomach growls again.
“Wow, baby,” she says. “Let’s get you fed before your stomach consumes you from the inside.”
We feast on shrimp, scallops, crab legs, heavy hors d'oeuvres, crudités and fruit, and I share my stash of cold Vitamin water with Alyssa to wash it all down. It’s not a full gourmet dinner by any stretch of the imagination, but I’d miss dinner a thousand consecutive nights if it means I could have the type of interlude I shared with Alyssa on the beach again. I’m not sure how things are going to play out when I finally tell her the whole truth, but my hope is that she will forgive me and we can begin to build a future together with the band and in our personal relationship.
Twenty-Five
Velaa, The Maldives
ALYSSA
Sky and Brody’s wedding day is picture perfect, as if they ordered it up on a menu despite the fact we’re here during monsoon season. Wedding Planner Ellie told them that while June was wedding season in western culture, it was not the best month for a wedding in the Maldives. It would be a crap shoot, and it depended on whether the rain cooperated. But, they’d persisted and their wedding day is an absolute stunner.
Our backdrop is a beautiful altar on the white sandy beach of Velaa overlooking the azure waters of the Indian Ocean. Sky’s band plays Brody’s Canon in D arrangement from our concert, and this time Marnie, Nicole and I are escorted down a fragrant petal aisle by Finn, George, and Dylan.
Seeing Dylan in his white tuxedo for the first time is enough to make me salivate. In fact, as we walk down the aisle I whisper exactly what I plan to do to him in our bungalow later, and he blushes like a school boy.
Brody, who’s already waiting at the altar with the minister, looking as cool as a cucumber, smirks at Dylan as we take our places. Elaine executes her part as mother of the bride and stands once all of the wedding party is in place, and the band begins to play Brody’s rocker version of Here Comes The Bride. Although I’ve seen Sky in full wedding regalia, I still gasp when she practically floats down the aisle on the arm of her father, Hideyo Amamoto.
Sky and Brody’s vows are brief and they say them in tandem, but they encompass all the promises they’ve made to one another since they fell in love during Sky’s European Tour.
“I promise to grow old with you and support you always. I promise to be patient, understanding, and kind—even when you’re trying my patience. I promise to listen much, and speak when there is something important to say—and sometimes when it’s something mundane or silly. I promise to create music with you until we can’t create anymore.”
“I promise to love and cherish you in good times and bad. I promise to do the things neither of us wants to do sometimes, because love is sacrifice. I promise to be my best self, for us, and our future together. I’m yours for eternity.”
Their kiss punctuates those words.
The officiant speaks as Sky and Brody are showered with a rainbow of confetti. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Brody Kent.”
They dance down the aisle to The Savages’ hit single, Eternity. Dylan and I follow, and Finn and Marnie, and George and Nicole bring up the rear.
Brody and Sky share another kiss at the end of the aisle, and I can’t help it, I have to razz them. “Get a room!”
“I’m Mrs. Kent now
, bitch!” Sky yells back at me. We share a hug and Brody and Dylan shake hands.
Once all the wedding party have shared hugs and handshakes, we’re whisked away by Ellie to take pictures on the beach, and on the altar once the congregation is herded to the restaurant for the formal reception. They didn’t want to chance that the weather would hold for everything planned today.
When we’re finally allowed to join the rest of the wedding attendees in the restaurant, I’m famished because I skipped lunch in favor of hair and makeup done by Sky’s stylist in the spa for her bridesmaids and I’m ready for the sit-down dinner. Dylan doesn’t touch his meal until he’s swallowed a couple of pills and had a conversation with Brody about visiting Sky’s ailing paternal grandmother a couple of weeks into their month-long honeymoon.
The bride and groom have further photo opportunities between courses, so Dylan and I get an opportunity to talk uninterrupted.
“Before yesterday I was dreading this moment,” I say.
“I was looking forward to it, probably for the same reason,” Dylan says. “I might be just slightly PO’d that Eric got more time with you the past couple of weeks than I did.”
“You won’t have to worry about that happening again,” I say. “Hey, do you think it would be possible for us to stay here a few more days after everyone else leaves?”
“In theory? Yes. But, no, we have to get back to LA and pull together an album for The Savages. Remember?”
I frown. “Spoilsport.”
“That would be Brody. Not me. I didn’t make the schedule.”
“You’re right. How is it fair that he and Sky get to go off on yet another vacation, and we’re sent back to LA to work?”
Dylan shrugs. “Probably because it’s their honeymoon, and he’s the boss?”
“Oh, right,” I feign smacking my forehead. “Well, they’d better plan on me staying at Sky’s until they return, because I’m not commuting back and forth from my condo to her studio every day.”