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“Give me your suit.”
“What?” he asked, his gaze snapping to mine in confusion.
“You heard me. Give me your suit.”
“Not a chance. I like this suit.”
“It looks better than mine. It’s not right.”
“So, I have to give you my suit?” he asked incredulously. “This is an expensive suit.”
“You’re not supposed to look better than the groom.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “That’s the bride.”
“Well, you’re not supposed to look better than me either. Hand it over.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes!” I said more forcefully. We stared at each other, neither of us willing to bend. I was going to have to take it by force. I glanced over his shoulder, furrowing my brows. He took the bait and looked over his shoulder, and that’s when I made my move. I charged at him, tackling him to the ground. He shouted as he landed hard and tried to punch me, but I already had the upper hand. I didn’t want to knock him out, but I would if I had to.
“What the fuck?” he shouted.
“Just give me the damn suit!”
“No!”
My hand slipped on the nice fabric, causing me to lose my upper hand. He flung me off him and climbed on top, but I easily rolled him off me. However, we were stuck in this rolling pattern until we crashed into a table and knocked it over. Then we rolled back the other way, each of us fighting to get control. I thought about punching him, but then he might punch me.
“Look, just give it to me…” I grunted, flipping him over again, “and no one has to get hurt!”
“You tackled me, you asshole.”
“Because you won’t give me your suit!”
“You didn’t even ask nicely! Am I just a piece of meat to you?”
“Yes!” I snapped.
He grunted hard, then lifted me bodily, throwing me over his head. My suit tore as my jacket stretched across my muscles. Grunting, I rolled over and got to my feet just as he ran at me, smashing me into the wall. I felt the drywall give behind us, but luckily, we didn’t crash through.
I shoved him away from me and took up a fighting stance. “Alright, let’s just…think this through,” I said, breathing hard.
He nodded, holding up his fists. “Yeah.” He cocked his head to the side with a grin. “It’s your wedding day, so I won’t kick you in the balls for being a jackass.”
“And I want that suit, so I won’t hit you in the face. Wouldn’t want you to drip blood on it.”
He snorted. “Like you could hit my face.”
“You know I’d kick your ass, but I’m about to get married. I want to look nice for my bride.”
“Then you should have bought a nicer suit,” he yelled as he lunged at me.
I tried to sidestep him, but stumbled in the slippery fucking shoes I was wearing. He caught me in the ribs and air burst from my lungs.
