Chapter Seventeen #3
“Come on.” Sid tugs my hand. I follow him to a spot beyond the ring of plastic chairs and overturned logs. The field of grain sways gently behind us, dancing along in the faint autumn breeze. It’s beautiful—romantic, even. More than I ever dreamed of getting in a wedding. Except…
Sid puts his hand on my back. It’s everything I could wish for—but with the wrong man. My legs are leaden, and he shifts his grip so that my spine bends the direction he wants me to go in. “Just follow my lead.”
“You know how to dance?”
He smiles, extra roguish with that broken nose. My skin tingles where his thumb presses above the dress’s neckline. “Stay here long enough, and you get to learn a lot of things.”
I laugh as he twists his wrist in a way that sets me spinning. How did my body know what he wanted from me?
When I finish the full circle, he’s there. I land in his arms, closer than before, and he lets us sway. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“Thanks. You aren’t half bad yourself.”
He grins, and my pulse flutters. I’m in two places at once.
My mind wants to go to the place where I grieve my dead, heart locked tight against another loss.
But my body won’t follow. It’s too busy being here, basking in the warmth of his chest pressed against mine; tightening my grip over his hand, so that he knows to keep holding me close.
My tongue teases at my lip, searching for something.
In response, Sid clears his throat. “I should apologize,” he says. “I didn’t realize you wanted a real wedding. If I let you down—”
“No! It’s okay. I thought I didn’t.” How could I have known? Nothing like this was ever an option with Curtis.
“So you’re happy, then? This is good enough?”
“Sid, it’s…” I almost say perfect. But it can’t be. “I mean, I could use a slice of cake.”
He grins from ear to ear. This is the most I’ve seen him smile in one night. “Yeah, me too.”
* * *
THE CAKE IS delicious. Sweet, dense, with just a hint of lavender to cut through the thick crumb.
Carlos even drizzled honey over the top so the rose petals would stick.
I don’t think April’s magazines could do better.
Sid reverts to his curmudgeonly self when he finds out Carlos used a whole pound each of butter and eggs, but all I have to do is smack him and say, “It’s our wedding and I’m worth it! ” for the mood to recover.
What can I say? The wine is working.
There isn’t more than one glass per person, but that’s enough to give an inexperienced drinker like me a pleasant buzz.
James points out that Carlos and April are too young to have any; since it’s our wedding, Sid and I get their servings.
That’s enough to make everyone’s jokes hilarious for the rest of the evening.
We spend hours singing along to James’s guitar, and every one of the guys takes a turn dancing with me and April. By the end of the night, my feet are aching, my skin prickling with cold. I curl toward Sid, seeking body heat.
A second later I’m waking up with a gasp, my head sliding off his arm. Sid takes that as our cue to leave and helps me teeter my way up the steps to our apartment.
“May you be blessed with a son in nine months!” James calls, and the other boys howl.
I grab the railing, staggering with some mixture of wine and exhaustion. “Does he know we’re not…” I can’t remember how to finish that sentence, so I make a thrusting motion with my hips.
“James? Oh, yeah. He knows. But that’s never gonna stop him.”
“But you know, it was good practice,” I say.
“Dry humping the air?”
“No! The kiss. That was good practice.”
Sid gives a disbelieving laugh. “For what?”
“For like, your election stuff.” I’m not explaining this as well as I mean to. It all makes sense in my head, but Sid is staring at me like I’ve got crickets between my ears.
Which… maybe I do. Wow, the crickets are loud tonight.
“I think we’ve gotten more than enough practice at this point,” he says as we reach the top of the stairs.
“No!” I slap him on the chest. “I mean, yes. Like, we got it right that time. You smelled good! And I was pretty good too, right?” I rock my shoulders up and down, so that the straps of my dress tug against the triangles covering my boobs.
“Sure?”
“Yeah… Curtis thought I was a good kisser.” I yawn so deeply, my jaw aches. “When do we start doing all the politics wifey stuff?”
“Really looking forward to that?”
“Well, I need to know when I’m supposed to kiss you. Psych myself up for it.”
“Wow. Okay, time to get you in bed.”
A hand sweeps under my knees and I fall into his arms, laughing and kicking my feet. He hauls me upstairs to his apartment, which I guess is my apartment now too.
“You are a wiggly drunk.”
“Ha!” I loop an arm around his neck. He smells so good, and I burrow my face into him.
He sets me down inside the room I plan to share with April, on the new mattress. Someone must have carted it inside while I wasn’t paying attention.
“For the record, Sid,” I say as he moves to shut the door, “you’re a good kisser, too.”
He smiles, giving no hint as to what he’s thinking. “Good night, Kayla.”