Chapter 3 #2
When I reach the plan set up on a wooden easel, I discover I’ve been seated at one of the three singles tables. Fine by me.
With some of the guests already flowing into the venue, I head toward my designated place.
I take in the overly fancy ballroom space with tables decorated in peach and cream shades.
The ceiling is painted to resemble a blue sky with wispy clouds, and the wall overlooking the big round table I’m to sit at pretends to be an Italian townhouse, with flowers growing on a fake balcony.
I can see why it would appeal to Madison’s fantasies about a lush, romantic wedding, and if she wants to get hitched at a theme park, it’s her business.
Am I bitter? Maybe a little.
At least I had a fantastic piece of ass yesterday to sweeten my mood. And since I’m not the sucker getting married in a few days, it’s not like I have much to worry about.
I approach the singles table, curious of the male-to-female ratio, but when I spot the name card next to mine, cold sweat covers my back.
This has to be a joke.
I look toward the podium where the bride and groom are meant to sit alongside their family and close friends, but Ann isn’t there yet.
If she were, she’d be laughing her ass off at my misfortune.
I can’t imagine anyone else coming up with the idea of seating me right next to the woman who left me at the altar.
Heat blooms in my head as I pick up the card with Kayla’s name, on the lookout for the perfect spot to move her—preferably to the other side of the table, where I can’t hear her well, but not right across, so I don’t see her face every time I raise my head.
I’m about to make my move when someone touches my shoulder.
“Are you trying to move me to another table?”
If the situation wasn’t dreadful enough already, I’m caught red-handed.
It’s been five years since I last heard Kayla’s voice, and it feels like an ice shard in my back. I take a deep breath and turn around.
“Hi. I just thought… it would be more comfortable for both of us.”
It’s so strange to bump into her like this, but I face her right away, and as our eyes meet, I’m struck by how different she looks five years on.
She’s always been into old things and collected various items from the 1930s and 40s, but she’s now moved on to a retro personal style as well.
Dressed in a satin gown with elaborate folds at the neckline, and with lush dark hair pinned into a 1940s updo, she resembles a star from the golden age of Hollywood.
She’s somehow even prettier than she had been in her wedding dress, and I hate it.
She rubs her chin with a gloved hand and sighs. “Possibly. But if we’re both stuck here for several days, maybe it’s best if we get used to each other’s presence?”
I don’t know how that’s supposed to work, but I give a curt nod. I shouldn’t have come here. This might be why Ann insisted on it, and I can’t wait to tell her what I think about her meddling when we see each other again.
I sit in the place with my name on it, itching for a drink.
Kayla looks as though she wants to say something, but then more people join us at the table and she decides against it.
The man seated on Kayla’s other side introduces himself as Jude. He’s well-dressed, clean-shaven, and his bald head suits his sharp features. But after shaking my hand, it’s clear he wants to pay me no more attention. In fact, he seems determined to make sure I don’t get any from Kayla either.
I smirk, getting some satisfaction from the fact that his efforts will be wasted on her, since my almost-wife left me to marry a woman. But then again, if that’s the case, then what is she doing at the singles table?
As I listen to Jude talking about a foal born just last night, it strikes me that I can place his face. He and I have never been well-acquainted, and he used to look much different with a beard and long hair, but he is the oldest son of the Hones, and the brother of Mr. Ass of the Year.
I wonder if he’d congratulate his sibling on such a prestigious award.
I smirk into my drink at the memory of last night. Kyle was a natural, if I’ve ever seen one, and took cock so beautifully. I kinda wish I’d taken his number, because if the wedding proved uneventful in the hook-up department, I’d gladly drive over to pin him down again.
An older woman sitting on the other side of me seems to know my dad, so she should provide easy enough conversation while I avoid Kayla at all cost. Just as we start talking, someone at the main table taps their glass to silence everyone, and as I look up, turns out it’s Ann.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she says with a bright smile, “the bride and groom have arrived!”
Everyone claps as Madison struts onto the stage in a luscious pale blue dress, but my hands stall as her groom emerges too, dressed in tobacco-brown.
It’s not his suit that startles me. Neither is it the fact that he’s handsome, or that his smile is warm as sunshine.
No. My heart goes into overdrive, sending boiling blood all over my body because my cousin Madison’s future husband is the guy who I fucked in the hay less than twenty-four hours ago.
I can still hear his moans in my ears, and his smell is vivid in my memory.
Motherfucker.
As if to make this fiasco even worse, Jude leans his bald head closer with a smile. “That’s my brother.” He points toward Kyle.
I think I’m gonna throw up.
It’s a personal rule for me that I don’t fuck other people’s partners, let alone spouses. I’ve been in open relationships, hell, I’ve had a threesome with a couple, but cheating is where I draw the line, and I hate liars with a passion.
I want to go up to him and throw my drink in his cute fucking face. If he thinks I’m gonna let this slide, he has another thing coming.
Kyle can’t easily notice me at the back of the room, so as the clapping dies down, I make a point of standing for a moment longer and toast his way with a whistle.
His eyes glide over me as I sit down, but then they’re glued to me like there’s no one else in the room.
Yes, fucker. Be afraid. Be very afraid.