Chapter 13 #2
I spend the next half an hour taking pictures, talking sparingly with Lala, so by the time I think I’ve got enough pictures, I sit on the couch pushed to the end of the living room and watch everyone continue learning the choreography.
“I don’t like that girl with our Clara one bit,” Lala says as she sits on the couch next to me.
I laugh. Olivia is still hanging around Clara, as if she can’t keep herself upright without her.
“It’s okay,” I finally say. “I’m not the jealous type.”
It’s true, I’ve never been the jealous type in my past relationships, but I hate the way this woman is swinging around Clara. It doesn’t sit right with me.
Lala grabs my hand and pats it. “That’s probably for the best,” she says.
“What are my two favorite girls talking about?” Clara says as she approaches us with Olivia right on her heels.
“Nothing, honey. Who’s your friend?” Lala smiles sweetly, and Olivia steps even closer to Clara.
I do my best not to roll my eyes, but I’m not sure I did a good job because Olivia smirks. One of those mean-girl smirks, as if my reaction is entertaining to her.
“Lala, this is Olivia. She’s one of Alex’s cousins and one of her bridesmaids. Olivia, this is Lala, Diana’s grandma, and Alejandra—”
“Clara’s girlfriend,” Lala interrupts as she pats my hand again. Her protectiveness over my fake relationship with Clara warms my heart.
Clara laughs. Not a nervous laugh, but one of her endearing laughs, like she knew this was coming.
“Yes, my girlfriend.” Clara beams down at me.
The second the word “girlfriend” leaves her lips, my stomach fills with butterflies. It shouldn’t because it’s not true, but it makes my heart flutter and my body warm all over.
“She’s also Diana’s sister,” Lala interjects again.
Olivia nods and slowly steps away from Clara, a move that frankly makes me feel a little victorious. Over what? I don’t know, but it does, and I love it.
“It’s very nice to meet you both,” Olivia says in the thickest Southern accent I think I’ve ever heard, with a smile that never falters.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Lala and I say.
“Are you guys done practicing?” I ask, reaching for Clara’s hand.
We’ve always had a physical relationship, so it’s not weird that I reach for her, but right now, it feels oddly possessive.
Her fingers wrap around mine, and when she gives me a small smile, the tension in my shoulders eases a little.
She rubs her thumb across my fingers, slow and grounding, and I hold on to that touch like it’s the only thing keeping me steady.
“Almost. We’re done with our part.” Clara points between her and Olivia. “Diana and Alex are going to practice their dance again, and then we’re all going to be told when and how to get onto the dance floor to encourage others to dance,” Clara says, rolling her lips.
“Oh, okay,” I say, holding in a laugh.
“I know.” Clara smiles.
I absolutely love my sister, but this wedding has made her a bit of an over-organizer. I wouldn’t say bridezilla because she’s insanely sweet about it all, but she’s teetering.
“Alright, everyone, pay attention!” Patty shouts, and we all turn to the center of the room where Diana and Alex are standing.
The music begins to play, and Diana and Alex start twirling around, looking so in love, even in this practice dance.
“Alex and Diana will go in first, right around here,” Patty says, pointing to a beat in the music. “ Then the maids of honor.”
“Wanna dance?” Clara asks.
“I’d love to,” Olivia replies, and I don’t even dare look up.
“Oh, sorry, I was asking Alejandra,” Clara says sweetly.
I finally lift my head, and she’s holding out her hand to me.
She’s ended up as the de facto maid of honor.
When the photographer bailed, Diana and I agreed it made more sense to hand the role off; there was no way I could shoot the wedding and stand beside her the whole time.
So, Clara stepped in. Their bond has always felt more like that of big sister and little sister—easy, playful, and protective.
With Clara and me, though, it’s never been that.
No matter how close we’ve gotten, it’s never had that same shape.
I look up at her and back at Lala, who’s already pushing me off the couch. I follow Clara and we wait until Patty cues us in.
Clara walks backward and pulls me into her, pressing her body tightly against mine.
She grabs one of my hands, and the other finds its way to the small of my back, and my heart lodges in my throat.
Heat creeps up my neck. My heart kicks hard in my chest, and I can barely focus.
Everything feels loud and distant, as if the room has tilted under my feet.
“Are you blushing?” Clara teases, and it only makes the tips of my ears feel hotter.
“No.” I bury my face in her chest.
Clara laughs.
“Leave me alone.”
“You’re cute when you blush,” she says as she presses one of her cold hands to my cheek.
I wrap my hand around her hand and kiss her palm.
Clara smiles and pulls me in closer with her other arm. I tighten my own arms around her until our faces are inches apart as we sway.
“Do you remember saying you didn’t think you and I should try dating because you weren’t sure I was doing it for the right reasons?” I ask. The words bypass the filter in my brain and spill straight out of my mouth.
Clara tenses. Immediately, I worry I shouldn’t have brought this up. I search her face as she rolls her lips, avoiding my eyes.
“Yeah,” she says, almost too quickly.
“What’s going on?” I ask, heart hammering.
“Nothing bad.” She softens the scrunched-up lines on my forehead with her thumb.
“Then, why do you look a little pale?”
“Now you’re making shit up,” she jokes.
I am; she looks fine. More than fine. She’s beautiful. But I know something is making her overthink, and only a joke will get her to loosen up.
“Well?” I press.
“It’s nothing. What were you going to say?” she asks, holding on to me a little tighter.
I bite my lip, wishing I could turn back time. I brought this up at the worst moment. Why couldn’t my mouth keep the words in like it is now?
I stare at Clara for an eternity.
“You’re scaring m—”
“I want to kiss you,” I say quickly, cutting Clara off, and I swear my heart forgets how to beat for a second. Clara stares at me, frozen. She’s even stopped moving, and we’re just standing still in the middle of the dance floor.
“Keep moving, ladies!” Patty shouts, and I force Clara to follow my lead.
“Say something, please,” I beg her.
Clara’s gaze falls from my eyes to my lips, and she swallows—hard—before she licks her own lips. That sends a shiver aching down my spine, landing between my thighs.
Clara’s hand cups my jaw, holding me in place as her lips move to connect with mine.
“Fake, huh?” Isabella says as she dances around us with Lily in her arms.
God damn it. When did they even get here?
Both of them look at us with teasing smirks and raised eyebrows.
I clear my throat and laugh, because what else can I do with all this heat rushing to my face, all this adrenaline buzzing at my fingertips as arousal and annoyance mix inside me?
“What can I say? We were theater kids.” I laugh, and Isabella rolls her eyes.
“Whatever,” she says as she winks at us and dances away with Lily.
Our friends really have the worst timing.