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Laney looks to me perplexed.
“Go,” I say, hanging my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I still haven’t let go of her, and she hasn’t moved either.
“It’s okay if you—”
“Go. It’s Devin. I was quite fond of her until a minute ago. See you tomorrow.”
She smiles. “Okay.”
Reluctantly I pull my arm away from around her and step away, kissing the back of her hand.
“Night, Laney.”
“Night, Theo.”
#lastnightasasinglelady #shesgoingoutwithabang #dontdrinkandIdo #policeweresummoned #handcuffswerestolen #donttrythisathome #mybestfriendswedding #livingmyrealestlife
Grannism—If he’s paying attention to the right things, you’ll rarely ever have to give directions.
Theo
“By the power vested in me by the great state of Texas, I now pronounce you man and wife. Chase, you may kiss your bride.”
“Ahhhh,” Laney shouts out enthusiastically when they kiss, which earns her a few laughs, mine included. Laney tosses her flowers up in the air, and the rest of the bridesmaids follow just as the photographer clicks the shutter. Her infectious excitement for her best friend is both audible and palpable.
I’m so fucked.
The minute she stepped into view down the aisle in her pink tulle dress and shiny new boots, the feeling in my chest overwhelmed me. And then she’d searched the sea of faces until she found mine, her smile beaming brighter as she winked at me. It was when she reached the rest of the waiting bridal party that I noticed the best man ogling her with clear intent. Immediately, I wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his lips with the way he was objectifying her.
I could hardly blame him, she was radiant; her hair in soft curls, half up, half down, pink gems and diamonds glittering around her neck, resting on her flawless olive skin. And those lips, dear God, those shiny pink lips. But it was the light in her amber eyes when she spotted me that kept the lump in my throat through the entire ceremony.
The need to go to her, to claim her, is blinding me. I’ve always considered myself a level-headed guy, but as of this moment, I can’t fathom a good enough reason not to go to her with all the confessio
ns waiting on my tongue.
Swallowing, I do my best to keep idle when she starts her retreat down the aisle. When she gets to where I stand, she stops, holding her arm out, for me and I gravitate towards her, and wrap her arm around mine, making the rest of the trip down with her. When we’re past the threshold of the double doors, she turns to me, lifting on her heels, eyes piercing mine before kissing my cheek. I’m just about to speak when she bolts, running to tackle Chase and Devin into a group hug.
“I love you guys so much!” She squeals as they hug her tightly before backing away. And then she’s back to business and barking orders. “Go, you have about ten minutes before the photographer finds you.” She grabs Devin’s bouquet and turns to the bridesmaids. “Okay ladies, line up and look alive. It’s picture time.”
I stand to the side as they all file out and Laney looks back to me, jerking her head toward the open door. “You coming?”
“I’ll wait here.”
She frowns. “Sure?”
“Of course. Go.”
“K. See you in a bit.”
That ‘bit’ turns into an hour or more as the reception goes from a classy cocktail hour to a free-for-all. Everyone in attendance seems to have brought their all-nighter ‘A’ game. The whole of the party is buzzing, overly affectionate and dancing like they’re in a night club. It’s easily the best wedding I’ve ever been to.
I’ve only seen Laney a few times, and each time our eyes connect, it’s lightning to the chest, a crackle of energy passing between us that I will no longer ignore. She looks so fucking beautiful that I’m constantly searching for her, only able to steal glimpses of everything I want, and just as quickly she’s gone. When the space is too much to take, I crane my neck searching the raging party for any sign of her. Relief comes when the DJ starts the wail of a siren to introduce the groomsmen. They all bound in from the double doors, lining up at the side of the groom who stands waiting on the floor. Grinning, because I know what’s coming from watching countless years of videos, I lift my camera to the entrance when Fergie’s “London Bridge” starts to ring out, the heavy bass thrumming throughout the ballroom.
“This should be good,” Mark—a close friend of the groom’s family—that I’ve been chatting with says, just as his hater date chimes in. “This is so overdone.” The double doors open, and I see Devin with her bridesmaids in V formation behind her. I’m nervous for all of them, until they collectively take their first few steps, causing every jaw in the room to drop.
Devin owns the floor, mouthing the dirty lyrics to her groom, her eyes only for him, her dress lifted slightly as she shakes her ass, making her way toward him. She looks stunning, and I can only imagine how he’s feeling watching her.
