Eve pulled me into a hug, stroking the back of my hair. That was twice in as many days that I had someone hug me—more than in the last two years. “You won’t lose anything unless you don’t communicate. It’s the same in all types of relationships. You have to talk to him. Just ask him. No is always a possibility, but isn’t the chance of him saying yes worth the risk?”
“Of course it is.”
“Ask him today. Oh, don’t look at me like that—I know good and well you’re plannin’ on going down there to see him at some point today. Ask him then. Don’t waste time and let yourself get worked up and stuck in downward spiraling thoughts.”
“You’re right. You always are. I’ll try to ask him at lunch.”
“Better get going. Your reply to Hana was sent a few minutes ago. I don’t think she’ll bother you anymore.”
I thanked Eve, grabbed my phone and bag, and headed out to go see how Bryan was doing.
Busy. That was how Bryan was. Lunchtime turned out to be a bad time to drop in if I wanted to talk to him. He still came out and greeted me, but he couldn’t stay long. Despite his smile he had bags under his eyes, magnified by his glasses, and looked like he needed three days of sleep to catch up.
“Have you eaten today?” I asked.
“I had a couple brownies this morning from the first batch,” he replied around a yawn.
I frowned at him then reached into my bag and pulled out a container of leftover pasta. “Here”—I pushed it against his chest, forcing him to grab it—“go back there and eat this so you don’t drop.”
Bryan looked down at the container then back up at me. “What about you? I don’t want to eat your lunch.”
“I’ll pick something up on my way back to the office. I’ll pass by a hundred different places to pick from; you’re stuck here for a few more hours. Eat.” I didn’t care that I sounded bossy. He needed to take a break, even if the place was busy.
I wasn’t all that surprised to see such a big turnout. The lunch crowd in the area was massive and Paige Turner wrote a raving article about Eat Cake. The other bloggers did too, generating a lot of positive exposure. I was so happy for Bryan, even if it meant my time with him was cut short. Not wanting to keep him monopolized, I excused myself and said I’d be back after close to meet up.
“Busy day, huh?” I stated the obvious, but I needed an icebreaker to work up to inviting Bryan to the wedding. I sat on a stool in front of Bryan while he stood and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Fuuuuuuck. I underestimated how busy I’d be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic and I hope it holds up, but I’m exhausted.”
I slid off the stool he’d offered me when I arrived and slid it toward him. “Sit. You’ve probably been on your feet all day.”
“Thanks,” he said as he sat down with a groan that spoke of sore, tired muscles. He took his glasses off and set them on the counter before rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
I rubbed my palms together as my eyes danced around the room. All of the cleaning was finished, and the kitchen was just as pristine as it had been after installation. My gaze lingered on the wall I’d helped paint and I smiled to myself. There was no way everything between Bryan and me had been fake or one-sided. So, why was I still so nervous to ask him? Every time I tried to speak it felt like my throat constricted. Even looking directly at him made me feel fuzzy and strange.
My inability to effectively communicate frustrated me to no end. I felt paralyzed in my own body as I helplessly screamed at myself to act. I knew my anxiety was bad—I never noticed just how crippling it could be.
What felt like hours of struggling for me were probably only seconds for Bryan. He always picked up on my mood changes, but he seemed off today too. I chalked it up to him being tired and stressed all day, though I’d never seen him quite so drained.
“Hey, ah, I’m having another baseball game on Sunday morning. If you want to come play with us, you’re more than welcome,” he said suddenly, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain—sounding like me.
“I-I’d love to come, but I don’t think I’d want to play. Would watching the game be okay?”
“That depends. Are you going to cheer for me? I’ll expect a sign—maybe even pom-poms,” Bryan teased with a smirk.
I snorted, and covered my nose and mouth with my hands. It wasn’t an intentional, amused snort; I snorted like a tickled pig rolling in shit and was mortified.
Bryan tried not to, but his face cracked and he burst out laughing. Seeing him smile again made me do the same, and my shame and anxiety melted away. How he was able to consistently improve my moods, I didn’t know, though I was so appreciative of it. Just a look or smile from him was all it took to pull me out of the depths of my pessimism.
“I don’t think I’d look good in a skirt, but I’d love to cheer for you. Unless that’s not something people do with baseball. I’ve never actually been to a game,” I admitted.
“You can cheer if you want to. Just you being there will be enough for me. And for the record, with your legs, I think you could totally pull off a skirt.” He winked at me and we both laughed, dissolving the last bit of hesitation in me.
Once we calmed down and a comfortable silence fell over us, I licked my lips and spoke. “I have something I’d like to invite you to as well. Eve is getting married in three weeks and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind going with me. I get a plus one, and she told me I had to bring someone, which was probably her way of forcing me to meet a new girl come to think of it. Anyway, that’s not really important right now.” I somehow managed to keep my eyes on Bryan and not look away, although the urge to do so tugged at me.
Bryan tilted his head and a half grin producing one dimple tugged at his lips. “You want me to be your date?”
“I—uh, I suppose I do. No, I definitely do. There’s no one else I’d rather take. I mean, even if I had a lot of options, you’d still be my first choice. Shit. I’m going to stop talking now.”
“I’d love to go with you,” Bryan said evenly. “Is that why you were nervous when you came in?”
I sighed and nodded. “Yes.”
“You didn’t actually think I’d say no, did you?”
“I’m dumb, I know.”
“You’re anything but.” Bryan scanned the kitchen and huffed, rising to his feet. “Wanna grab some tacos and beer and go back to your place? I’m too tired to cook tonight and puppy kisses always give me life.”
Of course I said yes to that. That was a perfect evening if ever I heard one. Then again, everything about Bryan was perfect.
The game was really exciting to watch. Bryan’s team won and as much as I wanted to scream and cheer, I couldn’t allow myself to do so. The thought of drawing that much attention to myself in public made me nauseous. I did wave at Bryan when it was his turn to bat. He smiled and tipped his hat at me before raising the bat and adjusting his grip. He missed the first ball but nailed the second in what I guess was a home run.
Seeing him in action made me understand his physique more. His broad shoulders and strong arms were conditioned for the sport. The guys on the team who hit the ball the farthest all looked to be more buff than the others, yet those other guys were faster. From what I observed, other than a few sprints to bases, there wasn’t a whole lot of running involved, which explained why he’d nearly died on our first few runs together.
I’d seen it a lot on TV and in movies, but I hadn’t realized that ass-slapping was such a huge part of real-life sports. I first noticed it when Mac did it to Bryan, then I observed most of the players engaging. I’d never thought about another man’s ass, but I’d also never played organized sports, so who knew. All of the attention to butts made me notice that Bryan had a pretty nice one, if I had to judge. His whole body was something I aspired to when I was a teen: strong and undeniably masculine.
I couldn’t picture my present self like that, but it sure worked for Bryan. He had so much raw energy and strength, yet he was the sweetest guy w
ho liked baby-talking to dogs and baking sweets with the utmost care. I had to smile just thinking about it.
After the game I was introduced to the guys on the team and got to talk to Mac again. He was all smiles and charisma again, and I wondered if he was ever “off.” His blond hair shone bright in the midmorning sun, such a stark contrast to Bryan’s black hair.
Mac slung his arm over my shoulders and invited me to grab a drink and lunch with the guys who were going out to celebrate. One glance at Bryan coming our way with a dimpled smile on his face had me saying yes before I could even think about it.
The next few weeks leading up to the wedding were some of the busiest of my life. I ended up helping Eve with most last-minute preparations since I saw her for eight hours a day and it was all so much. I never thought I would get married, and all of the drama surrounding Eve’s wedding helped reaffirm that for me.
Bryan helped me choose a suit, opting for suspenders, no jacket, and bow tie that matched the bridesmaids’ turquoise dresses. He had to call Mac for help on the shoes, claiming he was strictly a sneakers and boots kind of guy.
The rehearsal dinner went well, and I wasn’t too overwhelmed by it before I remembered we’d be on display in front of one hundred guests during the real deal. They wouldn’t be focused on me, but the “what if” demon in me had its day without Bryan or Eve around to talk some sense into me.
That evening, I attended Eve’s bachelorette party. It was one of those moments where I was doing it for her as a show of support, because God knows I wanted to lock myself in a room alone and wait until everyone left.
Drinking with Bryan’s friends had been largely relaxed and comfortable. Eve’s all-female bachelorette party was, in a word, wild. I’d always gotten along better with women, but I’d never seen them quite like they were that night. Mob mentality swept through them and it only intensified when the male stripper showed up dressed as a police officer.
The black-haired man was a talented dancer and, uh, pretty gifted if the bulge in his thong wasn’t artificial. While all of the other attendees screamed and said some things that made me blush, all I did was sit and compare the guy to Bryan. Perhaps it was that they both had impossibly black hair that I felt the need to do such a comparison, or maybe I was bored. Either way, the stripper didn’t have any advantages over Bryan aside from being taller, which seemed inconsequential. Put simply, I thought Bryan was attractive whereas Officer Dick did nothing for me.
Does that mean Bryan does something for me? Well, yes. Kind of. He did a lot for me. He nearly choked to death laughing when I told him about the stripper. I omitted that I thought he was better looking, but I wasn’t sure why.
On nights I wasn’t with Bryan or Eve, I dabbled in inking some abstracts on the remaining cardstock I had from when I did Bryan’s logo. I kept it to myself in case I didn’t stick with it, but as time went on, I found more enjoyment in the solitary act. When I ran out of cardstock I bought more and even browsed canvases. I still wasn’t ready for that, but I felt like I might actually get there again.
The day of the wedding finally came. I was such a nervous wreck that Bryan had to tie my bow tie for me on the car ride to the venue. Neither Eve nor Samir were overly religious and opted to have the ceremony in a botanical garden and the reception inside a Victorian banquet hall adorned in white, teal, and gold.
After we arrived, I was whisked away to fulfill my bridesman duties and didn’t see Bryan again until I walked out arm in arm with Samir’s lone groomswoman and took my place on Eve’s side of the altar. I was kept busy and hadn’t the free time to dwell on missing Bryan, but as I stood beside the rest of the bridal party and looked around at the full rows of guests, I realized how badly I wanted to see him.
I found him instantly, seated in the second row next to Eve’s spirited younger brother. He wore a light green dress shirt that apparently went well with the turquoise bow tie I wore. It also made Bryan’s pale green eyes pop more than they already did.
I focused on Eve and Samir during their vows, then my eyes wandered back to Bryan when the priest spoke again. By the time the “I do’s” were exchanged and everyone clapped and cheered, Bryan was looking back at me with a smile.
Twelve
Bryan
The bride and groom were all smiles as they greeted the applauding crowd as husband and wife. I missed the first kiss because I couldn’t take my eyes off Eli standing up there. When he looked back at me my heart lurched in my chest. It was almost as if he needed to see me as much as I needed him. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
“Is it socially acceptable for me to get drunk now?” Dubhlainn asked from beside me at our table inside the reception hall. He was Eve’s eighteen-year-old brother. His hair was the same shade of red as hers, but much longer by the look of it. He had it tied back in a loose bun for convenience more than fashion. I hadn’t had a chance to meet Eve yet, though they seemed alike based on what Eli told me about her: wildly outspoken and bold.
“Wait until after they have their first dance. And perhaps until you’re twenty-one.”
“Legal drinking age in Ireland is eighteen,” he snapped back. “Besides, I have a false ID.”
I snorted and shook my head. “You’re trouble, but I won’t rat on you.”
“Yes. Aoibheann knows better than to seat me with our parents,” he replied with a lazy grin. I supposed he was right, considered both sets of parents were at the table closest to the wedding cake. We sat at the next closest table with people I’d been told were cousins.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen strolled inside arm in arm and sat down up on a raised platform with a long table adorned in white cloth. Eve and Samir made their grand entrance shortly after and danced to a Gaelic ballad I was unfamiliar with while everyone looked on with happy faces. For a second, I imagined what it would be like to slow dance with Eli in front of all these people. To hold him flush against me while we swayed to a ballad that perfectly articulated everything I wanted to say to him.
Before I got too caught up in the thought, the DJ played an up-tempo song and the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen took to the dance floor. Except for Eli. He came straight over to me. The poor guy looked drained, so I offered him my chair, which he accepted with thanks.
He greeted Dubhlainn before the younger man excused himself to go “get a gargle,” which I assumed meant a drink.
“You look exhausted,” I said, taking the now empty seat next to Eli.
“I am. I’ve been going nonstop since arriving, but it’s over now,” he huffed.
As I opened my mouth to reply, one of the bridesmaids waltzed over with a big smile stretching her red-painted lips. My heart sank when she asked him to do the one thing I wanted most in that moment but couldn’t have; she asked him to dance.
“Thank you for the offer, Addy, but I can’t. That would be extremely rude to my date,” he said as he motioned to me, leaving me just as dumbstruck as poor Addy.
“O-oh. I didn’t… sorry. Have a good evening, Elijah.” She darted away toward three waiting women, whispering to them. Their surprised reactions confirmed what I’d expected.
“Do you know what you just told her?” I asked Eli. “She thinks you’re gay now.”
Without missing a beat, Eli turned to me and shrugged. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“Well, nothing.”
“I’m far too tired, but if I was going to dance with anyone other than Eve tonight, it would be you.” He said it so matter-of-fact, as if it was the most obvious answer. “They can think whatever they want about me, especially if it means they’ll leave me alone.”
Well, damn. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but there I was, staring at Eli like he had three heads. Finally, I laughed—it was all I could do. “I love the way your mind works.”
He leaned against my shoulder and groaned as a reply, making me giggle. “Come on. Let’s grab some drinks before dinner is served. Maybe you can show me around the garden bef
ore it gets dark.” Eli yawned and nodded. He was reluctant to stand back up, though once we exited the banquet hall and ventured into a less densely populated area he began to come back to life.
With full champagne flutes in hand, we wandered around the garden, taking in all the different colors and savoring the sweet scent of each offering. We worked our way to a gazebo overlooking a pond at the back of the garden and sat down on a bench to watch the sunset. Neither of us spoke as we sipped our drinks and took in the sight, but the moment was almost better without words.
Eli yawned and rested his head against my shoulder as he’d grown accustomed to doing when we watched movies late at night. His breathing slowed, and I realized he was actually falling asleep.
“Elijah,” I whispered. “You’re going to hurt your neck if you fall asleep like that.” A sleepy moan came as a reply. I hesitated for a moment before I carefully pulled my arm out from between us and shifted Eli so his head rested on my chest. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare wrap my arm around his back and rested it against the back of the bench instead.
The sun had gone down entirely, and string lanterns shimmered in the darkened space while lanterns illuminated the path behind us. The sound of the thriving reception was distant to my ears, second to the steady inhale and exhale of Eli’s breathing. I whispered his name again and got no reaction. Unable to resist the urge, I leaned my head down and smelled his hair, groaning in my throat at the scent that was so distinctly Eli, only much stronger this close. I didn’t trust myself to do it again and instead focused my attention on the stillness of the dark water, the sounds of the frogs in it, and the warmth radiating from Eli.
“I thought I might find you fellas out here,” an accented voice said quietly.
Princes of the Universe Page 11