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The doors open and the music filters out into the front of the church. Everyone in the pews stands to watch as we walk down the aisle. There is no formal order, and when I look to my right, it’s Adrian who walks next to me down the aisle. Just as I imagined, the crisp white collar of his dress shirt barely contains the tips of the tattoo on his neck. His wavy dark hair rests gently at the tops of the black suit jacket that stretches across his shoulders. In the pocket of his suit jacket is a familiar white cotton that would appear to anyone else as a pocket square, but I know are my fucking underwear.
He looks devastatingly handsome in a suit, but nothing will ever compare to how untamed and beautiful he looked the night we first met.
Such a pretty boy with a filthy mouth.
My eyes drop to his hands noticing how he rubs them together nervously; those same hands that gripped my hips as he fucked me from behind, shattering every last bit of doubt that I would not be able to go the rest of my life without ever feeling like that again. I can feel it now, like a tether between us, drawing tight across the aisle as we walk together, then I veer to the left and Adrian veers to the right, taking our places on our respective sisters’ sides.
The music changes, and while everyone is looking to the back of the church where both Beth and Laura are escorted up the aisle by their fathers, Adrian and I are looking at each other.
* * *
“You haveto hold it with both hands. Massage it a little, not man handle it, and it’ll feel like it’s getting bigger but that’s impossible, so you wait, squeezing your eyes shut until the pressure from the inside makes the top blow and everything spills out,” Georgie says to a crowd of guests as she holds a bottle of champagne in her hands.
Sure enough, with a little massaging and less manhandling, the cork pops open and champagne fizzes to the top, spilling over as everyone laughs. She hands the bottle of champagne back to the bartender and he pours the drinks while shaking his head.
“Are you trying to steal my job?” he teases.
Georgie props her elbow on the bar and flirtatiously bats her eyelashes. “Only if I get to keep the tips,” she says, causing the bartender to laugh.
Sipping my champagne, thanks to Georgie, I watch as Laura and Beth dance together in the middle of the crowd. The two of them fit together like missing puzzle pieces finally united. The sound of glasses clinking together rings through the banquet hall like a harp, getting their attention. Even from this distance, Beth’s smile lights up the room as she pulls Laura in for a kiss while the whole room cheers.
Ianna’s three little girls race through the crowd, and I watch as Adrian picks up the youngest one who was straggling behind, and lifts her into his arms. She giggles while he tickles her and then holds her hand out pretending to dance which she seems to love.
“Thanks for popping my lesbian wedding cherry,” Georgie says, all smiles, while shimmying in her little black dress and perfect leopard print strappy heels. “I’m having a great time.”
“You’re welcome.” I clink my champagne glass with hers.
“But seriously, it really is a beautiful wedding,” Georgie says, and I look at my sister and Laura making their way around the room to greet guests.
Ianna’s two other girls have made their way over to Adrian, having found their little sister having fun without them. Like jealous little girls, they climb all over Adrian as he tries to dance. He seems so at ease and unbothered by their relentless pursuit to gain his attention.
Leaning over the bar, I twist the glass of champagne around in my hands. The DJ makes an announcement that I don’t pay attention to. A live band starts up, and then I hear Adrian’s voice, the deep timbre cutting through the chatter of the wedding guests and the room becomes quiet. The song needs no translation even though it’s in Romanian, because of how he cradles the guitar to his body like a lover, and the way the notes are elongated as if he wants to hold onto each one. Clearly it’s a love song, and a popular one, as Laura’s family begins to sing along with him.
Beth rests her head on Laura’s shoulder, as they stand at the edge of the crowd while Adrian steps down from the riser. His hair has fallen loose, dark hair covering the tops of his ears, the suit jacket long discarded, and his tie pulled loose with the top button of his shirt now open. He’s so comfortable in front of a mic with a guitar strapped to his body and an easy smile on his face.
“I can see the appeal,” Georgie says in my ear, as we both watch with rapt attention.
Taking a sip of my champagne, I lean against the bar. Georgie rests her shoulder against mine. “There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun,” she says.
“Until someone gets hurt.” I look across the room at Adrian and watch as Taylor, in her tight-fitting red dress, makes her way over to him and his expression turns tense.
* * *
The ground is dry,not a hint of evidence that it had been raining earlier, aside from the thick and muggy air, as we walk across the dimly lit courtyard.
“I am perfectly capable of getting to my room by myself,” my dad says.
Raising my eyebrows at him, he waves me off. “I told them I could find my way back just fine,” he says, referring to last night’s adventure.
“Of course,” I say, using his key card to open his door.
Sitting on the end of the bed, he pulls the tie from around his neck and lets it drape over his palm as he stares down at it.
“Do you know where I got this tie from?” he asks, holding it up for me to see.
“No,” I reply and take a seat next to him. The brown and orange paisley pattern doesn’t match anything he’s wearing, and looks like something out of the seventies, but he wears it for almost every formal occasion.
“I had finally gotten the courage to ask your mother on a date, but I didn’t have anything nice to wear so I borrowed a dress shirt from your Uncle Dennis,” he tells me. I like the way my dad’s blue eyes shine when he smiles, the lines pulling at the edges becoming more prominent.
