9. Marley
9
MARLEY
“ F or the very first time as husband and wife, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Andrew and Josie Cunningham!” The DJ announces. Andrew stands, pulling Josie to her feet and away from the head table toward the dance floor. Josie’s dress is bustled now, the train no longer dragging everywhere. Once they reach the middle of the dancefloor the song starts to play. “Butterflies” by Kacey Musgraves. It’s honestly the perfect song for them. Happy and uplifting, and so fitting to their relationship.
They sway, both of them smiling at each other, their foreheads tipped together. My heart clenches at just how happy they are. I’m so happy for them I could puke, so happy that they have each other.
The song ends, the entire room breaking out into cheers and clapping. I take a long swig of my champagne as the music switches to a bouncing pop song. The party is officially starting and it’s time for fun.
I stand from my chair, heading to the bar. The cute bartender from last night is working, so I move to the side he’s tending. I’m single, slightly sad, and sure, maybe I’m slightly tipsy, but I think that just means that I get to flirt a little.
“Hey handsome,” I croon as I step up to the bar. I prop my elbow up, resting my head in my cupped hand.
His green eyes widen, brows raising. “Uh,” he coughs. “Hey, what can I get for you?” I don’t miss the way his eyes watch me closely.
“I want a vodka cranberry with a splash of soda,” I say. “Ooh, and a lemon drop shot, please!” My excitement rises. “I love those.”
“You got it,” he says with a wink.
Maybe he’s flirting to get a bigger tip, but I can’t find it in me to care. He’s flirting, and so am I. I haven’t flirted with anyone in a long time, and I deserve to live a little.
The bartender— I should really learn his name —makes my drinks, setting them on the counter in front of me. I slide them to the side, pulling out my phone from the pocket of my dress. The whole tap to pay thing is so convenient.
I pay, and finally catch his name on his nametag. With a glance behind me, I see no one is waiting, so I have time to chat him up a bit more. “So… Matt,” I say once I confirm his name again. “What brought you into the wonderful world of bartending?”
Matt chuckles, pushing his slick blonde hair back. The more that I look at him, the less attractive he seems. And he looks… young. Definitely younger than me.
“My cousin is the GM here, and he needed an extra hand this weekend. Enter me,” his low voice says. He leans forward on the bar, mimicking my stance.
“You’re Isaac’s cousin?” I ask.
“Sure am.”
“Huh. Well, cool.” I adjust my stance, pressing my breasts forward slightly. Sure, he’s not my type, or even someone I’m interested in long term, but I need the practice. I’m about to say something flirty when a hand slinks around my waist, sending a shiver down my spine. Lips caress my ear, a low whisper giving me goosebumps.
“What are you doing?” Beau’s recognizable voice, laced with—possession?—makes me stand up straight.
I sheepishly grab my drinks, stepping away from the bar, and the conversation with Matt. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something bad, like a kid stuck with their hand in the cookie jar. I know it’s absurd, but Beau makes me feel like this.
“Why do you care?” I ask, my tone clipped and defensive. He always has to interrupt me, has to stake some sort of invisible claim on me. I stride from the bar, focusing hard on my footsteps. The last thing I need right now is to trip. Talk about embarrassing. I do, however, swish my hips a little more than normal.
I sit down at my spot at the head table, and take my lemon drop shot. The sweet and sour flavor trickles down my throat, and I can’t help but shiver at the intensity. The liquor warms my blood almost instantly.
Beau drops down in the seat next to me. “I care, because…” He runs his hands down his face, as if he’s overwhelmed. His eyes narrow on me. “Do I really need to say it, Marley?”
“Seems like we’ve been leaving things unsaid for this long, what's one more thing?” I say bitterly. My tipsy state is allowing me to say things completely uninhibited, and the freedom is thrilling.
The dance around us is starting to ramp up as the music does, the beat bumping, reverberating in my chest in pace with the rapid beat of my heart.
Beau groans. His lips are set in a firm line, eyebrows knotted as he tries to come up with the words to say. “Just…”
“I’m going to dance,” I say, interrupting him. My brain buzzes with the mild exhilaration of being so bold. It’s time to celebrate with my friends.
Okay, so I probably shouldn’t have had that last shot of fireball, but I couldn’t help it. When the bottle got passed around the circle, it was too tempting. It seems that it was Thomas’s goal to get me drunk tonight, and he succeeded. Not that it was hard. I was a completely willing party.
I grab Josie’s arm as another upbeat song starts to play, and we spin in a circle, dancing and laughing together. Andrew is standing on the outside of our little circle of people, watching his bride with a smile.
I’m sure I look the opposite of attractive right now. My back is damp with sweat, my bangs plastered to my forehead, not that I care. My flirting idea was tossed out the window as soon as the brooding Beau interrupted me. Now he stands on the outside of our circle, watching. He’s not not dancing, but I personally wouldn’t consider bouncing up and down and swaying side to side dancing. He’s had quite a few beers, and the hazy glint in his eyes lets me know that he’s just as drunk as I am. The liquor appears to have relaxed him, though there’s still the furrow between his brow. I hate how attractive he looks right now.
Jason brought Lennie up to their room about an hour ago to take her to bed, with promises to come back and finish out the night with us. Then Nikki showed back up at the edge of the dance floor, instead of Jason, and we all knew that he had crashed right along with his daughter.
Megan and Isaac bounce up and down, singing the poppy love song to each other as they dance. It’s so sickeningly cute I want to puke.
The song slows to a ballad, Ellie Goulding’s cover of “How Long Will I Love You”. Josie drops my arm in search of her new husband, and they gravitate to each other, slowly swaying to the beat. Josie’s head rests on his chest, Andrew’s cheek tilted to lay atop her head.
Couples in love make their way to the floor, holding each other close, murmuring sweet nothings to their partner as they sway. A sense of longing runs over me, as I watch. Walking down the aisle today on Beau’s arm felt so… right. Despite the pain thrumming through my veins at the knowledge that I can never let it be us, I gave into the fantasy, dreaming for just a moment.
Thomas escapes the dance floor, heading to the table to drink a glass of water. I start to follow him, since clearly this is a moment for all the couples, when a hand wraps around my wrist.
“Wha—” I start to say, but when I turn to see who’s grabbing me, I’m shocked, but also not at all surprised to see it’s Beau.
“Dance with me,” he murmurs. I can barely hear him, but somehow I know that’s exactly what he said.
I’m nodding, not giving myself a moment to think. I’m short of breath, but I’m not sure if it’s from dancing or from the feeling of Beau. He pulls me in close, one hand moving to rest on my hip, the other clasping my hand as he starts to sway us to the beat.
My head drops to rest on his chest, my ear pressed where his heart thumps loudly. Just hearing his heart soothes the piece of mine that was cracking at the proximity to him. I let myself feel this moment, enjoy this time with him. I don’t want to let him go, and yet I know I’ll have to. Let this dream of us go. I love my best friend. He’s always been my person, but lately, I can’t seem to separate my love for him with the pain I feel of keeping things platonic. Everytime we’re out with our friends, I’m struggling not to think about how natural things could be if I just gave in. But what if I break down the barrier and he rejects me? What if he just wants one night? One taste of it?
The song reaches its crescendo, beginning to slow and fade into another slow dance. I start to pull back. We had our dance, and now it’s time to let him go.
Beau doesn’t let me go though. The hand on my hip squeezes tighter, keeping me connected to him. “No,” he mutters. “Not yet.”
I relax into his hold. What’s one more song going to hurt? Well, only my heart. But I guess it might be worth it.
He continues to sway us, and Josie and Andrew catch my eye. I pull back, offering her a small smile. She returns the gesture, her eyes flicking up to Beau’s face. She nods slightly, and Beau squeezes me gently. He rests his head back on mine, and I swear, I feel his lips gently caress my head. But maybe that’s just my drunkenness imagining things, right?
He pulls back, dropping my hand to use his finger to tilt my chin up, meeting his eyes. If he didn’t have his arm wrapped around my waist, I’d stumble at the intensity of his gaze. He glances away to Andrew and Josie for a moment, before glancing back. “Did you ever think that would be us?”
Just like that, my heart stops, and my blood runs cold. “What?” I say, my voice breaking.
He looks at them again, then back at me. “I always…”
Tears burn behind my eyes as I process his words. Because I did think that would be us. Dreamed every night that someday I would walk down the aisle in a beautiful white gown, to see him at the end, waiting for me. To slow dance with my best friend, and the love of my life, at our wedding. I can’t let myself dive further into my dreams, or I’ll crack right here on the dance floor. “Beau, don’t.”
He furrows his brows. “Don’t what? I don’t want to fight, not tonight,” he says.
I’m shaking my head. “We can’t,” I reply, though my heart is screaming at me, we can, we can!
I step back, and this time he lets me. Anger burns through my veins, mixed with the pain and sadness my heart is feeling. The song ends, and I spin, heading off the dance floor to the table. I grab my clutch and the glass of tepid water, chugging it down quickly.
“Alright gang, I’ve got one more song for you, then it’s time to call it a night,” the DJ calls over the loudspeaker. The beat bounces, and I decide that’s my cue. I glance around the room, catching Josie’s eye, giving her a smile and wave. She furrows her brows for a moment, a questioning look in her eyes, but I just shake my head.
Before anyone can stop me, I turn, heading down the hall to the elevator. I need to get out of here. At Beau’s statement, I feel like I can’t breathe, and the anxiety starts to pound in my veins.
“Marley, wait,” Beau calls when I hit the elevator button.
“Beau, please,” I cry, the tears finally spilling over, running down my cheeks non-stop.
“Please, what?” he taunts. The elevator doors open, and I step onto the cart. Beau follows, slamming the close door button, and the button for the third floor.
The tears never stop as the doors close, and Beau follows me to the far corner. He lifts his arms, caging me in. He takes long, deep breaths. His brown eyes stare deep into my own, but they don’t give anything away. I can’t read what is on his mind the way I normally can. He looks as if he’s in pain, his brows furrowing deeply, before he mutters under his breath.
“Fuck it.”
And then he’s slamming his lips onto mine.
Like the first time he kissed me, it’s abrupt, unexpected, and literally everything I’ve dreamed of. His tongue parts my lips, a hint of the spicy whiskey from earlier on his tongue. His hands drop from the wall of the elevator, one clutching my cheek, the other resting at the base of my throat.
His fingers tap at my rapidly thrumming pulse point, like he’s needing the proof that I’m feeling this as much as he is. My palm rests on his chest, feeling his own heart beating so fast and untamed. My fingers clutch at the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him closer, while also knowing I shouldn’t really be doing this.
I can vaguely hear the ding of the elevator as it moves up the floors. It dings one last time, and the doors open with a swish . I break away from his deft lips, gasping for air and coming up short. With every beat of my heart, I push my feelings down, further, further, further.
I push back on his chest, escaping him. I rush down the hall toward my room, digging my key card out as I do. I don’t think about the fact that Beau just kissed me, or the fact that we have both had a little too much to drink.