Returning to Rockport: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Kelsey Clayton

  I sit down next to my mom and hand her one of the glasses. She thanks me quietly and takes a sip, looking around the room in awe. I watch her for a second before placing my hand on her knee.

  “Are you okay?”

  She smiles as tears build in her eyes. “I just can’t believe this is happening. My baby is getting married.”

  “Oh God, don’t start the waterworks yet. I’ll have mascara running down my face before I even get into a dress.”

  A wet laugh leaves her mouth. “I just always thought I’d be watching Maverick and Tatum plan their wedding first. You were always so closed off from boys that I wasn’t sure you’d ever let someone in enough to get engaged, let alone married.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I chuckle.

  What she doesn’t know is that the only reason I seemed ‘closed off’ is because I was too focused on one boy in particular. My entire world revolved around Colton. The way his hair stuck to his forehead from sweating in the summer heat. How his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to land a skateboard trick. The definition of his abs when his shirt would raise while stretching. I had every part of him memorized like the lyrics to my favorite song. There was no time for anyone else, nor did I want there to be. He was all I wanted, all I needed.

  “I’m so glad you found Parker.” She interrupts my thoughts.

  I don’t answer. It’s not that I don’t love my fiancé, I do – but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of what all this planning would be like if the groom was different. Would the idea of dress shopping have me researching the style I would look best in for all hours of the night? Would I be excited to pick out floral arrangements instead of dreading it? Parker has pretty much left all the decision making up to me, and I’ve left it all to Tatum. Maybe wedding planning just isn’t my thing.

  Yeah, that’s bullshit. I was excited until my ex walked back into my life like a hurricane, destroying the walls I’ve spent the last four years building.

  The thought of him reminds me that I never answered his last text during brunch. I take out my phone, snap a picture of my drink, and send it over with nothing more than a few heart emojis. Just as I’m slipping it back into my pocket, Ivy and Tatum come barreling into the room with their arms full of dresses.

  “Wow, okay.” My eyes widen. “I said to help me pick a dress, not bring the whole store into the dressing room.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny.” Ivy quips. “We each picked three, so you have six to try on, unless Mom wants to go choose three more – then you’ll have nine.”

  “I think I’ll just see what you’ve found so far.” My mom answers and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  After a short debate between who’s choices go first, I follow Tatum into the dressing room. She’s got one of her’s and one of Ivy’s dresses hanging on the wall. In true competitive nature, they won’t tell me who picked what so that I don’t choose based off who I like more. If I know, I’ll be inclined to pick Ivy – hands down, always.

  “Okay, you’re not going to like this, but I have to put a corset on you.” I turn around and look at the item Tatum has in her hands and raise my eyebrows at her. “It will make the dresses look better. Don’t be difficult.”

  Reluctantly, I raise my arms and let her squeeze me into the tight garment. It practically forces the air out of my lungs with how much it constricts my body. If I need to wear this, I can guarantee I won’t be able to sit down at my wedding.

  “Jesus Christ. Could this thing be any tighter?!”

  “Oh, relax.”

  “You relax. My ribs are going to be bruised by the time I get out of this.”

  She rolls her eyes and chuckles as she grabs the first dress. “Alright Drama Queen, come on. Let’s get this dress on you.”

  BY THE TIME I’M trying on the fourth option, I’m exhausted. All of them are nice but none make butterflies erupt in my stomach. Sophie told me to try to picture saying my vows in each one. That didn’t work either. I make my way back into the dressing room and grab my phone as I wait for Tatum to come in to untie me. Finding two messages from Colton, I smile and open them.

  Colton: Wow. You weren’t kidding about the day drinking.

  Colton: Don’t get too wasted. It’s only noon on a Wednesday. You don’t want all the old ladies in town talking about what an alcoholic you’ve turned into.

  I chuckle. He’s right but I know I’m nothing close to drunk.

  Me: What if that’s exactly what I want?