Chapter 8
Nate
WINTER WONDERLAND
“You could maybe tell a couple of stories of when you were both growing up,” Belinda leans into me to say because the music is so loud.
One of the ushers is with his wife, screaming into the microphone.
The two of them are dressed in matching outfits so we know they’re together.
“And if you have any pictures, we could maybe throw them together to do a slide show while we tell the stories.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” I tell Belinda, the maid of honor, who asked me if I wanted to make a speech with her at the wedding. We’ve been putting it together a bit while we’ve been together the last couple of weeks.
The sound of applause now fills the room, and I look over, clapping my hands with everyone else. My head starts to throb. “The next ones up are,” the emcee says, sticking her hand in the bowl and pulling out the paper, “Belinda and Jenny.”
“It’s your turn to shine,” I say. Jenny rushes over to come and grab Belinda.
“They will be singing”—the emcee smiles at the crowd—“‘Run the World (Girls).’”
She looks over her shoulder at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the bowling thing,” she says. “We can work on it more then.”
“Sounds good.” I lean into the bar and then look around for Elizabeth, who is now sitting at a table with Jack and Evie as they laugh at something. I grab my beer and head over to their table, pulling out the chair next to her. She looks up at me. “I was wondering where you were.”
“What?” she questions, her eyebrows pinching together. “Where did you think I would be?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her, “one minute you were on the stage, the next—poof like a puff of smoke—you have disappeared.”
“I’m sure you were really watching,” she goads, “at the same time you were trying to pick up the maid of honor.” She points to the bar. “I didn’t think you wanted me as a wingman."
"What the heck are you talking about?" I ask her, seeing Jack and Evie exchange looks, their eyes wide at our exchange.
Their heads bobbing back and forth like they are watching a tennis match.
If I think about it, we have never ever not bantered back and forth.
Well, except for that one night we spent together.
Her mouth was too busy doing other things to sass me.
A vision of her ripping off her shirt once we got into my apartment now fills my head.
The smirk she gave me before sliding down to her knees is etched in my memory, as if it was yesterday and not seven years ago.
“Are you okay?” Jack asks me. “Your face went like really red there for a minute.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Do you need water?”
“I’m fine.” I turn back to look at Elizabeth and her bare shoulders and I have this sudden need to bite her. “I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.”
“Well, you were flirting with her.” She leans back in her chair, tapping her finger on the table in front of her. “Or at least you were trying to. The reason I know this is she laughed at your joke.” She tilts her head to the side. “And, well, between me and you; you aren’t funny at all.”
“For your information,” I snap at her, “we were collaborating.”
“About how you wanted to get her in your bed?” She snorts. “I know, I saw.”
“For a speech,” I hiss at her. “For the maid of honor and best man speech.” She nods her head at me like sure. “Do you think I would try to pick up the maid of honor?”
“Yes,” she snorts out, then she whips her head to Evie and Jack, slapping her hand on the table.
The smile is gone from her face and in its place is a look of seriousness.
“Wait, is she staying with you guys?” she asks Evie and Jack.
“Because if she is, maybe we could do a swap or an exchange, one girl for the other.”
“She is not staying with us,” Jack answers, trying to hide his smirk.
“Fuck,” she swears, and I just shake my head.
“Sucks for you.” I point at her. “You’re stuck with me.”
“It does suck that your pickup game is lame.” She laughs. “See what I did there? I rhymed.”
“You are the only one laughing at your joke,” I inform her.
“Evie”—Jack turns to proposition his wife—“would you like to come to the bathroom to make out with me?” He gets up and she smiles up at him.
“That’s disgusting,” Elizabeth says. “Go make out in the corner like normal people.” She points to the corner. “Or you can wait until you get home.”
“Yeah, but then I have to sit here awkwardly with the two of you as you trade insults with each other.”
“Um, that’s insulting,” Elizabeth informs him. “I’m the only one trading anything at this point; he can’t even do that right.” She folds her arms over her chest, and I have the sudden need to kiss the shit out of her if only to make her shut the fuck up.
“Okay, everyone.” The emcee comes back to the mic. “It’s time for some holiday sing-along.”
“No, absolutely fucking not.” Elizabeth shakes her head.
“I’m leaving. I’d rather sit outside on your front steps than stay here to sing ‘Winter Wonderland.’” She gets up.
“This is my Irish goodbye,” she states and she literally looks around once, not saying anything to anyone before she just heads for the fucking door.
I look over at Joshua and motion to the door, and his eyes catch the back of his sister’s head. He gives me a chin up and then I turn and rush out of the bar, seeing her walking to the truck. “You were so sure I was going to follow you out here?” I say, unlocking the door.
“No”—she looks over her shoulder—“I was going to actually wait in the truck until you were ready.” She pulls open the door. “Which it looks like you are ready now.” She gets in. “Unless you want to try to stay and see if Mindy is going to come home with you tonight.”
“First off,” I start, opening my own truck door, “her name is Belinda.” I really fucking hope it’s Belinda since I called her that five times.
“Is it?” She tilts her head to the side. “Are you sure about that?” She puts so much doubt in me that I pull out my phone and search up her name in the wedding emails we’ve been getting weekly.
“Aha,” I say, turning it to face her, “says right there Belinda, maid of honor.”
“Made you look.” She claps her hands and laughs. Her phone rings from her back pocket and she pulls it out.
“Is that your boyfriend?” I ask her, gripping my phone tighter.
“It is,” she confirms and then answers it, “Hey, sugarplum.”
“Hey yourself,” I hear a female voice. “Ty said you are having the best time you’ve ever had in your life,” the woman says and Elizabeth bursts out loud laughing.
“Is that what he bet?” she asks the phone.
“I’m having the worst time,” she tells the woman. “I was kicked out of my house and left to fend for myself. And to top it all off, I have to stay with my brother’s best friend, who I don’t really like.”
The woman laughs. “I just read that romance book.”
“Did it involve murder?” She looks over at me.
“Let me see what he looks like,” she urges and I shake my head, but she turns the phone on me and I see the woman wearing a robe and glasses staring at me. “Hello,” she says, putting her face even more into the screen, “aren’t you a tall glass of water?”
“Hi.” I hold up my hand and smirk at her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Honey”—she winks at me—“the pleasure is all mine.” Elizabeth turns the phone to look at her. “So you are having a good time.”
“What part of anything I just said makes you think I’m having a good time?” she inquires, and the woman laughs.
“I’ll just pay Ty his twenty dollars and say he was right,” she announces, “and you have all the fun tonight. You’ve earned it.”
“Goodbye.” Elizabeth hangs up on her. “That was Gayle.” She looks over at me.
“She’s my triage nurse who runs the board and me, and basically everything else.
” Her voice trails off and she yawns as she looks out the window.
I acknowledge her statement with a hum and we settle into silence for the rest of the drive.
We pull into the driveway, and she gets out and walks around the truck. “This was super fun,” she deadpans. “Loved the way you got up on stage and belted out your heart.”
“I was going to, but you didn’t give me a chance to do anything because you were all ‘peace out, bitches.’”
“Okay, for one, I would never say that.” She snorts as I walk to the door and then cover the keypad with my hand as I put the code in, making her push me to the side. “That’s not fair.”
“If you have the code,” I tell her as the sound of the lock starts working, “then what would you need me for?”
I turn the knob and then look at her. “Nate.” She puts her hand on my chest, and I can feel the heat from her hand come through my sweater and my T-shirt. “I still wouldn’t need you, regardless of if I had the code or not.”
“So you’d freeze outside?” I ask her and she chuckles.
“I bet you one hundred dollars”—she folds her arms over her chest—“one of your garage doors is unlocked.” I glare at her. “And I know this because you and Joshua always left it open for the other person.”
“You don’t know me,” I scoff at her as she turns and stomps down the stairs and heads to the garage. “The dog,” I yell out when I look over and see Whiskey stick his head out of the door and sniff the air, “he’s going to run away.”
“Yeah, right,” she says, turning and coming back, “you owe me a hundred bucks.” She taps my cheek with her hand. “I take cash.” She smirks. “Hello, Whiskey.” She squats to rub his neck. “Did you have fun tonight?” She gets up and walks into the house. “Did you chew any of his things?”
I walk in after her and shrug off my jacket as she walks to the back and opens the door for him. “Do you have to go to the bathroom?” she asks him and he just sits by her feet. “Did you pee in his bed?” she whispers to him. “It’s okay if you did.”
“Are you done with that?” I ask, pulling the sweater over my head and tossing it on the sofa, leaving me in my white T-shirt.
Her eyes roam from my head to my shirt and then back up again.
I can see the fire in them, and she catches me watching her with a smirk on my face.
“You hungry?” I ask her instead of saying, “Do you see something that you want?”
“No, not really.” She breathes out a big sigh as she walks to the front door, taking off her boots.
I walk back over to the staircase and the two of us walk up the steps together, almost in unison.
Our arms rub against each other’s, and my heart starts to go nuts in my chest. Not a word is spoken, only the sound of our breathing can be heard. We get to the top of the steps.
“Do you need anything?” I turn to ask her, wanting to drag her to my room and ask her why our night meant nothing to her.
“I think I’m good.” She nods. “Night,” she says and turns to the spare bedroom, closing the door behind her.
I stand here watching the light come on under the door and then turn to look down at Whiskey, who is waiting on the top two steps to see if I’m going back downstairs or to my bedroom. “Let’s go, boy.” I motion with my head. “Time for some shut-eye.”
I listen to her moving around in the bedroom as I head to my own. I leave the door open, and notice her walk out of the bedroom and then head to the bathroom. “Should I go in there?” I ask Whiskey, who jumps on the bed. “Yeah, that’s what I think too. Not the best idea.”