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5
BRYN
Avery carefully weavesher way through the tables towards the kitchen, her shapely ass, squeezed into the conservative length black skirt, centre of my attention.
What about her as tonight’s girl? I've watched the chick since the soup incident and the glances we've exchanged indicate I wouldn't be wasting my time if I did turn my attention to her. My options are limited, few other guests at the wedding are alone, and most are too old or too young for me.
I'm staying here tonight and if I have my way, she can stay with me.
“Tongue away, Bryn,” says Sky and I blink in her direction. “Stop leering at the waitresses.”
“I'm only leering at one.”
“Hmm.” She fixes me with a sour look.
I turn to Dylan. “Dylan, sometimes your fiancée forgets she's chosen a lifestyle with rock stars, and that involves our occasional leering at women.”
“I think Sky's teasing you, mate,” he replies.
Sky gives me a sweet smile. “Leer at who you want.”
“I intend to,” I say gruffly and stab at the asparagus on my plate.
Sky closes her hand around mine. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“It's just… you didn't bring anybody.”
I drag my hand away. “And?” I snap.
“Whoa. Okay.” Sky glances at Dylan.
“I came to this wedding alone by choice.”
“Yeah, and judging by his eyeing up of the waitress, he has reasons,” says Jem. “Gonna get laid, Bryn?”
Sky shoots him a look, but Jem just raises an eyebrow at her.
“Why is my personal life suddenly hot topic of the night?” I growl.
“Calm down, man. We don't care who you screw,” says Jem. “Mia might though.”
“For fuck's sake!” I stand and push back the chair, the wood-on-wood screech attracting attention. “I'm always such a fucking joke, aren't I?”
Several people watch me as I head in the direction of the side doors, but I don’t give a shit. I haven't had enough to drink to deal with the emotions this event and place pull to the surface.
Wales.
A wedding.
People from school, most of whom I haven't seen for years. I avoid them—classmates who share my history with the girl who should be with me.
Gritting my teeth, I reach the door. Through the glass, I see snow covering the ground, the smattered powdering from before now changed to piles against nearby walls.
Maybe I won't go outside.
I rest against the wall and stare at the hideous maroon and cream patterned wallpaper opposite, and take deep breaths. I should go back to my hotel room before my miserable bastard attitude rubs off on anybody else.
I'm close to the kitchen door and Avery heads out with an arm full of dinner plates. Her delicate features are pulled into a look of heavy concentration. She’s cute. I'm reminded of my damp trousers and her beetroot red face when she attempted to dry my crotch, giving me a great view of her tits as she leaned forward.
Is she a Blue Phoenix fan? I hope so because that'll make this easier. In the past, my status has helped get me laid, about time I started again. The girl heads off with the plates and my imagination follows her.
