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“Jesus,” he mumbles, clearly having some sort of issue over there. I don’t care how good of a friend the guy is I’m still not asking questions.
When my deed is finally done, I head over and wash my hands. It seems to take Levi a few extra seconds to piss, like me. Not that I’m noticing or anything. Shit. This is weird. And wrong.
So very wrong.
Is it hot in here? I’m suddenly sweating.
As I’m drying my hands, anxious to get out of the sweatbox of a bathroom, Levi joins me at the sink. “Hey, man,” he says, his voice seeming a little strained.
Like mine.
“Uh, hey,” I mirror, shooting the paper towel into the basket like a pro baller. Before I can make my escape, the door opens and Dean comes in.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he says, turning his back to us and sliding over to a urinal.
“Hey,” Levi and I mirror.
“I’m just gonna…” Dean says, his voice trailing off as he slips past the urinals and goes into the stall.
I have my back to the room as I try to conceal the gun suddenly ready to fire in my pants. What the hell is wrong with me? Even if I were sporting wood while holding my girl on the dance floor (even if her talking about later tonight got me revved up to six thousand RPMs), there’s no way I’d still be chubby after visiting the bathroom with other dudes in it. It’s time to get the hell out of this bathroom.
The bar is still dimly lit, with very few customers. Well, other than the Summer clan. “Presents!” Payton hollers from the back of the room. She’s standing next to a table of gifts, presumably for the bride and groom.
I slowly make my way over to where Lexi is standing, careful to use her as cover for my raging boner. Slipping behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss the back of her head. She smells like flowers and some other girly shit that smells amazing. Of course, the cock banging against the inside of my zipper would completely agree.
“I’m almost a little afraid,” Jaime says, her speech a bit slurred, as she takes one of the chairs up front. Yet, there’s no hiding the smile on her face. When Ryan joins her, he seems…off. A little sweaty, maybe? His cheeks are a bit flushed. I’m not sure what the deal is. Ryan, like me and the rest of the guys, stopped drinking quite a while ago after a beer or two, so he shouldn’t be buzzed up. Yet, he looks like he’s as uncomfortable as a nun in a strip club.
“Don’t you worry, Jaime, we have you all covered for the honeymoon!” Emma exclaims, loud and proud, to the entire bar. Probably a good thing there aren’t many people in here.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she mumbles, reaching for the first gift bag that’s handed to her.
She carefully opens the gift, removing a small card. “May all your nights be kinky, love Payton and Dean.” Jaime slowly eases a box from the bag. Ryan helps hold it, placing the box in his lap, while his fiancée removes the lid.
“Woooo,” Meghan declares, fanning her face, when Jaime holds up some sexy little white outfit. It’s lacy and sheer and will barely cover her. In fact, I’m not sure much of her will be covered at all. Ryan seems to appreciate it, though, grinning like the cat that ate the damn canary.
“Someone’s gonna get lucky,” AJ proclaims loudly.
“That’s the point,” Payton adds.
Jaime and Ryan open several gifts with lingerie ranging from sweet and innocent to scantily clad and illegal, as well as some sex toys that make her blush. I’ve never seen this side of a bachelorette party before. I mean, I’ve been to a handful of bachelor parties over the last few of years, which usually just consists of beer and maybe a stripper. This is my first experience with vibrators and floggers (those came from Emma and Orval).
“One left,” Payton says, handing Jaime the large gift.
Jaime opens the box, and whatever is in it, makes her cry. Ryan gazes in the box before wrapping his arm around his fiancée, pulling her close to his chest.
“What is it?” AJ asks, the sisters all leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the gift.
She doesn’t speak, instead pulling it from the box and flipping it around to show the crowd. It’s a framed piece with three photos. Across the top it reads Generations of Love. Beneath it is three photos, two wedding photos and one casual one of the bride and groom-to-be.
“Oh my God,” Lexi whispers beside me. “That’s my grandparents…and mom and dad on their wedding day.”
“Who’s it from?” AJ asks, kneeling in front of the picture and lightly touching the photo of their parents.
Jaime reaches into the box and pulls out the card. She starts to read silently before bursting into tears. She hands the note to Ryan before burying her face in his chest. He glances down at the card, reading it to himself, before hugging the crying woman tighter against him. “It’s from Meghan.” His voice is soft as he glances up and locks his eyes with hers. The smile he gives her is laced with pain, but shows just how much he appreciates whatever the note said.
Not a lot is said after that. There are hugs and tears and everyone raises whatever glass they’re holding. Brian says a toast as we all raise our hands in the air in memory of a man I never knew, but suspect I would have really liked.
“Thank you for this,” Meghan says with tears glistening in her green eyes, holding her glass. “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here tonight to celebrate Jaime and Ryan. What you share is an unbreakable, forever kinda love that we have watched grow over their time together. Josh loved you guys and he would want us to celebrate, not cry. So, let’s drink to love. Love is real, love is alive, and love is forever.”
“Love is forever,” they cheer around me, downing the water I switched to.
A bit later, the party is winding down. Orval and Emma left just a few minutes ago, with Brian in tow. He made us (us being Dean, Levi, and myself) promise that we’d get everyone home safely. Especially Meghan. He’s more concerned about her. She’s put on a brave face tonight, but no one could miss the far-off looks on her face or the tears in her eyes.
The girls are pleasantly plastered. They’re singing karaoke (horribly, I might add) and dancing around on the small stage up front. The regulars left a bit ago, leaving just us in the bar with Lucky. The guys and I have been drinking water, flushing that last shot from our system, and picking up the penises. Seriously, they’re everywhere. After a final rendition of “Pour Some Sugar On Me,” they finally set the mics down and come help clean up.
My eyes have been on Lexi the entire time. She’s glowing, probably from excitement and alcohol, and I’m getting a little more than anxious to get her home and into bed. Of course, my cock has been on board with this plan since we were dancing. He’s still hard and raring to go, which is a bit alarming.
I’m just about to make my way over to where she’s at and claim those bee-stung lips when the front door opens. A few of the regulars have come and gone all night, but this one stands out like a sore dick. He’s wearing pressed Oxford pants and a button-down shirt. His shoes probably cost more than I make in a month slinging beers at the bar. His stylish hair is combed perfectly and his eyes laser sharp as they seek out the one woman I’d come to blows over.
Chris mother-fucking-douchebag Jacobson.
