Everyone gasps at the vision making her glorious way down the aisle, and I force myself to zone out as memories bombard me, clenching my chest so tightly I struggle to breathe.
It’s only when I hear the minister asking for the rings that I snap out of it and wink at Parker, giving him a glorious smile that freezes my cheeks. The final words are spoken in a choked whisper from Parker that makes me grin evilly.
I decide to order a copy just to tease him every time he calls me a sap for crying when the breath mint commercial comes on. He thinks it’s because I love the baby in it. Little does he know that I cry every time I hear the word ‘mint’.
Pathetic.
***
“You look like a lesbian. A hot one,” I hear from my left, turning to mock growl at Justin and a laughing Bee as they saunter into the reception arm in arm, looking like the latest cover of ‘Couples Who Last’.
She looks so much better—even a little chunkier than she’d been in college—and though we’re nowhere near the friendship we’d shared before, we’ve spoken enough for me to know that she is totally in love with my brother.
“Right back at ya, bro,” I drawl, leaning in to kiss them both on the cheek. “You look great, Bee.”
She blushes and tenses, and immediately alarm bells go off in my head, making me woozy and itchy all at once. Somehow, despite the agony coursing its way through my every cell, I manage to smile at them both with real happiness.
“Congratulations. You’d better get a ring on that finger before she starts showing, or Mama will kick your ass,” I laugh, hugging them both with a dry-eyed determination that feels too forced.
“Sissy…”
“No, really, I’m so happy for the both of you,” I rush to assure. “Everything fine though?”
I can’t help it; I’m terrified of someone else being as happy as I’d been only to have it snatched away so cruelly by a body that just couldn’t get it right.
“Yeah, perfect,” Bee whispers, hugging me again, tighter when I shudder lightly with repressed emotion.
“Good. Now let’s all go get a drink. Oops! Not you, of course,” I trill with a false smile. “Only orange juice or water for mama.”
I spend the next hour laughing too loudly, giving a best man speech that’s a little too raunchy, and just generally trying to keep my eyes off Vincent while ignoring the slow ache beating at my chest.
When I can’t stand another minute of it I start drinking, ignoring Parker’s concerned looks and my parents’ glares. By my fifth shot I feel good enough to dance with one of the groomsman, a blonde hottie from Chicago whose name escapes me.
“We should totally hook up tonight, hot stuff. Jason likes what he sees. Wanna get out of here and go…exploring?”
Not likely, my befuddled brain snarls from somewhere in the distance, making a bubble of laughter burble up. I’d rather explore a powder keg with a lit match, thanks.
“Um—”
“Pardon me, might I cut in?”
Jason looks over my shoulder arrogantly, ready, I think, to shoot down that sneering growl, when his eyes widen and he all but bolts away, leaving me alone and wobbling on my four inch heels in the middle of the crowded dance floor.
A set of strong arms enfolds me, turning me around for my first look at him in two months. Jesus, had I ever really thought I could get over this man?
It’s ridiculous, I see that now, because no matter how much I hate him for his betrayal I love him just as fiercely, and odds are I always will.
“Hello, dove.”
I don’t know how, but I keep myself steady as I lift my eyes and meet his head on, my chin only slightly trembling when I see the soft smile curving his lips.
“Hello ,Vincent.”
Chapter Thirty Five
“You’re drunk,” he says derisively, pulling me closer to sway to the eerily mournful music.
“Tipsy,” I purr, spreading my fingers over the breadth of his muscled chest.
Everything inside me clenches, turning my wobbly bones to liquid when he brings our hips flush and grinds himself into me.
“Blotto,” he murmurs back, making me gasp when his slow rubbing hits me exactly where I need it. “I like it.”
I do too. With the alcohol streaming though my blood I feel invincible, untouchable, and more importantly, unbreakable.
“You only like what you can’t have,” I mutter, staring at his button hole with one eye to still the jumping circle. “Or, more accurately, you only want the thrill of the challenge. Or is that chase? Whatever.”
To say that I’d lost the leash to my tongue somewhere between the second glass of wine and the tequila is an understatement. Here I am, drunk—yes, I’m blotto—and taunting a breed of very dangerous animal, just to see him react.