9. VANESSA
PARIS
After being roped into coming to the wedding of someone I hardly know because my parents want to parade me around, I was prepared to be bored out of my mind.
They love to boast that I play for the Rebels and I’m headed to med school next year, as if those are their accomplishments, not mine.
Sure, they helped along the way by paying for all those football camps and extra classes.
That doesn’t make me feel any less like a show pony.
Thanks to the Lydia drama earlier, the possibility that Vanessa might be here wasn’t on my radar.
I didn’t connect the dots until I saw her.
The bride is her cousin, something I should have known, considering we used to attend the same church every Sunday until the great scandal of my thirteenth year—aka, when Cory’s friend stole Father Medina’s wine.
Now I can’t help the thrill of excitement that rushes through me as I watch her walk down the aisle, wearing a form-fitting dress that accentuates all her assets.
I drown out the rest of the circus, because my attention is now solely on the most beautiful bridesmaid I’ve ever seen.
The lavender color of her dress looks great against her tanned skin.
And I don’t know what they did to her hair, but it looks luscious and soft.
I’d give anything to run my hands through the strands.
She’s always had a nice ass, but now… damn.
The sight is giving me a boner, which is awfully inconvenient and inappropriate, considering my mother and father are sitting next to me.
I need to stop imagining things that aren’t going to happen.
I adjust my pants and force my eyes away from Vanessa’s curves.
Mercifully, she finishes her walk fast, removing the temptation.
Perhaps I should pay attention to the ceremony.
I do try, but my eyes have a will of their own and keep wandering back to Vanessa.
During one of those moments, she looks in my direction, as if sensing my stare.
I should look away, pretend it isn’t her I’m watching, but I hold her gaze instead.
She’s too far away, and I can’t begin to guess what she’s thinking.
I’m not sure what’s happening to me. For the longest time, I was able to pretend I had moved on.
Before I fell for her, she was one of my best friends, a constant in my life.
We didn’t go to the same middle school, but I used to see her every weekend at the country club and at church.
So when I lost Cory and she vanished from my life, it was a blow I couldn’t recover from.
I held on to my rancor, shut her out, and allowed Lydia to feed my animosity toward her.
Vanessa never explained why she didn’t contact me after I lost my brother. Maybe I should have asked her.
The connection breaks when the priest declares the couple husband and wife.
After the kiss, the crowd erupts into cheers and applause.
The newly married couple walk down the aisle side by side, followed by their wedding party.
Vanessa is the only one who doesn’t follow the procession train.
The groomsman she would have been paired with walks alone, looking confused.
I look for her, but she’s gone. Everyone begins to stand up, and I follow suit. But as I move into the aisle, I can’t help but look over my shoulder and search for her.
Damn it. Where did she go?