“Ladies room?” I ask and she nods.
“Babe, will you get me another drink please?” she shouts back at Ian who gives her a quick wink. We walk arm in arm to the bathrooms and slip inside, the sound of the bar crowd dying down as the door closes behind us. Stepping in front of the mirror, I smooth my dress out and fluff up my hair as Juls reapplies her lipstick.
“By the way, this Saturday I’m holding you hostage after your cake delivery,” she says as she hands me the tube she’s just used. I take it and shake my head, slowing applying the nude color onto my lips and then quickly wiping it off.
I grunt in annoyance. “I can’t pull off lipstick. It makes me look like a hooker. And why am I being held hostage on Saturday?” I hand her back the tube and she sticks it into her purse.
“Excuse you. Maid of honor duties.” I screech and jump on my heels. “We’ve got some dress shopping to do.” She wraps me up in a hug as we giggle against each other.
“I’m going to lose it when I see you in a wedding dress. Fair warning,” I say as we let go of each other.
She grabs both of my hands and beams, taking in a deep breath before she slowly lets it out. “I’m so happy, sweets. I can’t believe he chose me.” She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it to stop it from quivering.
I squeeze her hands with both of mine. “Who wouldn’t choose you?” I drop her hands and turn back towards the mirror, wiping under my eyes. “Is, uh, Reese in the wedding party?” Please say yes. The sight of him in a tux is something I would pay to see.
“Of course, he’s the best man. Which means that you two will be paired up. You’re welcome.” She giggles at me and I watch in the mirror as my cheeks burn up.
We exit the bathroom together, Juls walking ahead of me and blocking my view but it doesn’t matter. I could have been blindfolded and I’d have known he was here. I always feel his presence before I see him. As she steps through the crowd, my eyes lock onto Reese who is standing at the bar talking to Ian. My stomach tightens and I clench my fists as I walk slowly, studying him and waiting for him to notice me. He’s in his work attire, dress shirt and tie with khakis, his hair sticking out all over the place and I decide that walking slowly is for morons. Pushing my way through the crowd, his eyes turn to mine and he smiles sweetly before his mouth drops at my appearance. I pick up my pace and run straight at him, jumping up into his arms and hearing Juls and Ian’s collective laughs as I cling to him like a vine. His smell hits me and I softly moan.
“Handsome,” I whisper into his ear as I squeeze him tightly, no intention of letting go any time soon. “I thought you’d never get here.”
“I came as soon as I could, love.” He inhales me deeply, holding my body against his as I keep a solid grip around his neck. Shifting me against his body, he turns and lowers himself onto a stool, pulling me into his lap. I lean back and study him. Green eyes blazing, parted full lips, and smile lines. Man he is lethal. He opens his mouth to speak when his eyes trail down my body and stop on my thighs.
“Fuck, Dylan.” I glance down quickly at what’s possibly caused his outburst and curse loudly at the sight of my exposed garter. Shit. This dress was not meant to be sat down in. “What are you wearing?” I’m quickly placed on my feet in front of him as he begins tugging at the material, frantically attempting to bring it down to a more appropriate length. The giggling from me comes naturally at his flustered state.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What the hell is with the dress?” he asks through clenched teeth as I quickly scan the red faces of Ian and Juls who are watching in amusement. Joey squeals on the dance floor as Billy dips him and kisses him deeply in front of everyone. The relentless tugging of my dress brings my eyes back down in front of me.
“You don’t like it? I thought you liked me in dresses,” I tease.
“This shouldn’t be allowed in public. Seriously what the f**k? You’ve been here for how long in this shit?” He glowers at me and runs his hands down his face, bringing my attention to his right hand that looks like he’s spent the night dragging it against bricks. His knuckles are cut up and slightly swollen and dried blood stains his skin.
“Jesus Christ. What the hell happened to your hand?” I reach for it to examine it more closely when he quickly pulls away from me.
“Don’t worry about it. The dress, Dylan. Why are you wearing that?”
Oh no f**king way is he going to react like this and not give me any answers. I grab my clutch off the table and make to turn away from him. “Fuck you. I wore this for you, you stupid ass**le.” His hand grabs my elbow but I somehow manage to snatch it out of his grip. “Let go of me. How dare you come in here with your hand looking like you beat the shit out of somebody and give me a hard time about my outfit. You have no f**king right to act like that.” What the hell? This is not the reaction I was hoping to get out of him for wearing this. I push through the crowd of people and see the exit but feel his hands on my waist before I can get very far. Figures. Engage barbarian mode. I am turned sharply and pulled against his chest, his mouth pressing firmly to my temple.
“I have every f**king right to act like this,” he growls.
“No you don’t. What the f**k happened to your hand?” I push away from him and take a step back, sternly staring him down for an explanation.
He steps closer to me, eliminating the gap I just created. “Your ex is what happened to my hand. I told you that I’d make sure he never touched you again and I f**king did. Now explain to me why the f**k you’re wearing that? You knew I wouldn’t be here until later so don’t f**king say it was for me.”