Chapter 19
Nineteen
Best Men
“COLE!!!” A POUNDING on the bedroom door, jolting me awake. Cole lifts his head, leaving a spot of drool behind on my chest. “Ezra, do you have Cole in there with you?”
“Shit —”
Cole is giggling, reaching for the covers. He has just enough time to pull them up over the two of us before Bree bursts into the room. Her eyes are blazing, and she’s wearing a short white satin robe and fluffy high heeled slippers.
“Jesus Christ, Bree, I’m naked —” he gasps.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Bree replies crisply. She grabs Cole’s boxers off the floor and tosses them in his direction, along with a pink satin robe. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“It’s — time to get up?” Cole guesses.
“It’s six thirty already! The photographer is here, and we have a breakfast buffet set up in the lounge, but I wake up to find out that my man of honor has snuck out of my room in the middle of the night —”
We’re in the Berkshires for Bree and Seth’s wedding, in one of the many lush bedrooms in a palatial villa that Rodney Slade rented out for the weekend for the bridal party.
Last night, Cole was supposed to stay in Bree’s suite with the bridesmaids, and I was supposed to stay over here in the other part of the house with Seth, since Bree and Seth aren’t planning to see each other until the wedding.
But Cole and I — well, we just don’t have that kind of self control these days.
“Okay, okay, sorry —” Cole sits up, pushing the hair back from his face, and I can’t help reaching out, running my hand up the curve of his spine. He winks at me over his shoulder, then turns to Bree. “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”
“You’d better be.” Bree flounces toward the door, but turns and glares back at us before she steps out. “And don’t think you’re off the hook either, Ezra. You are on thin ice.”
When she’s gone, Cole buries his face in his hands. “Fuuuck, it’s going to be a long day. Breakfast and mimosas and trying to keep Bree from freaking out and hair and makeup and —”
“And, you know, the wedding,” I chime in.
He flops back down among the pillows, then rolls over and props himself on one elbow so that he can look at me. “And what exactly is the first thing on your agenda today?”
I yawn, stretching my arms ostentatiously over my head. “I think Seth and I are going out for a hot towel shave at nine? Before that, though — you’re looking at it.”
“I hate you —” he groans, half-rolling on top of me.
“You love me —” I hook my hand around the back of his neck, dragging him down into a kiss.
It’s intimate, familiar, both of us fuzzy with sleep, moving slowly, humming contentedly as we press skin against skin.
I feel like the past month has been one long extended kiss, both of us making up for lost time, letting out every single tender feeling that we’ve held back all these years.
We’ve kissed on the couch in Cole’s apartment and against the kitchen counter in mine, on the beach at Sandy Hook and right in Dad’s driveway, where all the neighbors could see us.
We’ve kissed in the grass in Prospect Park and in an alley behind Cole’s favorite dive bar in the Village.
We’ve kissed and kissed and kissed, and yet I know that it’s never going to be enough, that I’m always going to want more of this, every single day.
I roll him onto his back, sliding a hand down his belly. “Hey, any chance we have time for —?”
Cole laughs, shaking his head. “Oh fuck, no!”
“Are you sure? You know how fast I can get you off.”
“Babe, if I’m not out in that hallway in thirty seconds, Bree will literally come in here and slap my dick out of your hand.” He gives me one more lingering kiss, then wriggles out of my grip. “I have plans for you tonight after it’s all over, though — I promise.”
“Mmm, okay —”
I lie among the pillows, absentmindedly stroking my belly as I watch him wiggle into his boxers and pajama pants, and then the pink robe with the words brIDE SQUAD emblazoned in sparkly letters across the back. When he’s done, he leans over me, brushing our lips together.
“See you in a few hours, okay?”
When he’s gone, I stare up at the ceiling, too keyed up to go back to sleep.
I guess I could take care of business myself, but there’s something enjoyable about holding onto the ache, the need for Cole, until I can be with him again.
We’ve managed to see each other nearly every day in the past four weeks, even with my teaching schedule and Cole’s upcoming gallery opening and last-minute wedding prep and driving down to New Jersey every weekend to visit Dad.
I’ve spent more nights at Cole’s apartment than I can count, and maybe I’m not quite ready to poke at that yet, the way our lives are intertwining.
But it’s all good, and I’m looking forward to today much more than I ever thought I would.
***
“Um, excuse me — Seth? They’re ready for your first look.”
The photographer’s assistant is a young woman, standing just a little behind us, her hands clasped in front of her.
It’s early afternoon, and we’re all dressed up and ready for the wedding to begin.
The ceremony and reception are at a historic mansion with extensive botanical gardens, and we’re waiting in a small courtyard surrounded by hedgerows.
“Oh! Thanks, Emily — I guess I’ll just —” Seth turns to me, and his hands are shaking a little as he smooths down the front of his suit jacket. “Do I look okay?”
“Of course, you look amazing!” I reach out to hug him, and I can hear a shutter clicking right next to me. I guess it’s going to be like that all day. “She’s going to swoon. You can do this.”
“Thanks, little bro.” Seth gives me a twitchy smile, then follows the assistant out into the gardens.
I’m not quite sure what to do with my hands, so I tug at the bottom of my coat and try desperately not to shove them in my pockets.
I glance over to make sure that Dad is still sitting on the bench under the arbor and that he doesn’t need anything.
He catches my eye and grins, and then nods behind me.
Just then, I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“Ezra?”
His voice catches in his throat, and as I turn, it’s as if time has stopped.
I’m sure there are people that can explain better than I can what Cole is wearing.
His suit is a deep, vibrant blue, shiny in the light and perfectly fitted to his slim frame, not an inch of fabric out of place.
The shirt underneath the jacket isn’t a button-down Oxford like the one I have on, but a light, silky thing with a plunging neckline that shows off most of his chest. His hair is pulled back softly from his face, a few blond tendrils escaping his updo.
And I can tell he has makeup on, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what products he’s wearing to make him look so ethereal, so impossibly glamorous.
I reach for his hands, and I can feel a grin splitting my face. “Hey. I mean — oh my fucking God, you’re beautiful.”
“This old thing?” But Cole is laughing, and he leans down to kiss my forehead. “You look incredible. I have to go back — but I just wanted to see you before everyone else does.”
I lift his hand to my lips and kiss it, because everything is crazy and I can’t think of anything else to do that would fit better. “I fucking love you, you know that?”
He winks. “I know.”
A little while later, it’s time. Seth is back, and he’s a little teary-eyed after seeing Bree, and he had better stop that because even I’m starting to feel an odd prickle at the back of my throat.
The temperature is a bit brisk for an outdoor wedding, but I’m warm in my wool suit (and more than a little thankful to Cole for picking it out).
The guests are all in their seats in the formal garden, amidst the fountains and water features and carefully curated topiaries.
But there’s lush fall foliage too — trees beyond the hedgerows exploding in a riot of red and orange and gold.
At the front of the crowd, the officiant walks forward to take her place in front of an archway wreathed in vines.
The string quartet begins to play a tune that is vaguely familiar to me, and I know it’s time.
“Ready, Dad?”
Seth holds out his hand, and we both support our father as he gets to his feet.
Nearly a month after the accident, he’s been recovering well, hitting every one of his milestones in physical therapy.
The doctors tell us it’s lucky that he was so active before the fall, even though it’s the reason he fell in the first place.
I think he’s already itchy to get a power drill back in his hands, and we’re going to have to figure out a way to keep him out of trouble.
He’s looking at both of us, one hand clutching each of our arms, and fuck, he looks a little misty too. I’m going to have to go out into the woods and scream after this is over.
“I want you to know, boys —” Dad says, and his voice wobbles a little. “Your mother would have been so proud of both of you, of the men you’ve become. God, I wish she could see you.”
“Dad —” Seth whispers emphatically, and maybe that’s all that needs to be said.
Bree’s mom is the first to walk up the aisle, escorted by Dave and Kyle, Seth’s other groomsmen.
She’s the spitting image of Bree, or perhaps a snapshot of Bree’s future, dark-eyed and spirited.
When she’s halfway to the front, it’s our turn.
Dad leans heavily on Seth’s arm for support, his cane in his other hand.
I’m not quite sure what to do, so I walk beside them, keeping my arm in view in case Dad needs me.
After we settle him into his seat, we take our place beside the officiant, and the music changes.