Be Good A New Adult Romance (RE12)(17)

I was lounging on the love seat, so Winter and Zelda took seats on the couch.

“Aren’t you going out?” Winter asked uncomfortably. She clearly didn’t know what to make of the situation.

“Nope.”

I could see Winter and Zelda eyeing each other. Then Winter said, “Why not?”

“I’m spending the evening with Marvin.”

Winter looked around the apartment. “You’ve got a guy here? Where is he? Is he in the bathroom?”

Both girls’ turned toward the bathroom at the same time. We could all see from where we were sitting that the bathroom door was open and the room was completely empty.

One thing I never did was bring a guy back to our apartment. I told Winter I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable but the truth was that I always wanted to be in control of the morning-after’s. I wanted to be able to make a great escape without any drama. I always left guys apartments quickly and early. If a guy didn’t want to bring me to his place for sex it was always a deal breaker. My place was off limits.

I pointed to my plant. “That’s Marvin.”

Winter and Zelda looked at me like I’d gone mad.

“You named your plant?” Winter asked.

“Why Marvin,” Zelda added.

I shrugged. “Why not? Doesn’t he look like a Marvin?”

The girls both glanced at my plant.

“I guess so,” Zelda said and Winter looked at her like she was crazy.

“Just what does a Marvin look like?” Winter asked Zelda.

“Like that plant,” Zelda replied as if it explained everything.

Winter just shook her head. Then she turned to me and said, “Hey, we’re going to get a pizza and watch a movie. You in?”

So that’s what witches did on a Saturday night. Ate pizza and watched movies. It sounded so—normal. Not what I was expecting. Then it occurred to me that maybe they were watching some freaky witch movie. I wasn’t into blood and gore and all that kind of stuff. “What movie?” I asked cautiously.

“We’re going old school,” Zelda said. She held up a DVD of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

I had to laugh. “Yeah, sure. I love that movie.”



***



It was a little after 11 by the time I got into bed. It was the first time in years that I had been in my own bed on a Saturday night. My phone vibrated and there was a text from Brett: I miss you.

I phoned him. “I miss you, too,” I said when he picked up.

“You’re home?” Brett sounded surprised.

“I am. I have been all evening.”

“You didn’t go out?”

“You told me to be good.”

“And do you always do everything you’re told to do?’

“Almost never. But I guess it depends who’s doing the telling.”

“I wish I was there right now to give you a good-night kiss.”

That isn’t all I want you to give me, I thought. “Next weekend. In Tucson. You can give me all the kisses you want.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Did you hear about the party Friday night? Everyone is getting together at the Screaming Cactus after the rehearsal dinner.”

There was a long pause. “I’ll try to be there but I know I’ll be late. We’re having some huge problems with that big project I was telling you about. I had to pull in some major favors just to be able to get the weekend off to go to the wedding.”

“It means a lot to me that you’re going to be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you.”



***



Standing at the front entrance of the church with the four other bridesmaids, waiting for the rehearsal to start, I realized how much every wedding was exactly alike. The outfits, the rituals, the script, even the music, everything was always the same.

If I ever got married (which was a big if because, who was ever going to ask me to be his wife?) I knew I didn’t want a wedding like everyone else. No hideous bridesmaids’ dress (I didn’t even want bridesmaids at all), no Pachelbel’s Cannon and definitely no church. (God knows, I had no business in a church and definitely no business getting married in one.)

I zoned out through most of the rehearsal thinking about Brett. I wondered what kind of wedding Brett wanted. Did he want a traditional wedding in a church with groomsmen and a Unity candle? I couldn’t see him relishing Pachelbel (more like Pearl Jam). I could see him wanting flowers, though. Lots and lots of flowers. Of course, that made me think of Sweater Vest. He had been engaged to her. I wondered if they had planned a big wedding. She seemed like the type who would want it all. Even the Unity candle.

The rehearsal dinner was at a small Italian restaurant that was owned by an aunt and uncle of the groom. I didn’t usually go for Italian but the meal was delicious. One of the groomsmen, Rocco, sat next to me and tried hitting on me most of the night. I had no interest in Rocco. He was short and already had a beer gut, which was a complete turn off. And he was a bit too crude for me, which said a lot.

It took everything in me not to tell him off at the table but I didn’t want to ruin Olivia and Zach’s special weekend. Finally, when the dinner ended, and everyone was exiting the restaurant, I decided to put Rocco in his place.

“You going out with everyone tonight?” he said as he undressed me with his eyes.

“Why do you care?” I turned my back to him.

He grabbed my arm and spun me around toward him. “Maybe I want some action.” Definitely crude.

“The only action you’re going to see is my fist making contact with your eye if you don’t let go of me.” I was so angry, I was practically spitting on him.

“Feisty. I bet you’re a real knockout in bed.”

He didn’t let go of my arm. I had given him fair warning. I didn’t want to leave a mark on his face with the wedding the next afternoon, so I did the next best thing, I kneed him in the groin.

“You f*cking bitch,” he moaned as he doubled over in pain.

“I told you to let go of me,” I yelled as I stormed away.



***



I knew I should have waited until Brett got into town to meet everyone at the Screaming Cactus, a popular bar that was within walking distance of the hotel. But there was a little voice in head saying, “Go, just have one drink. It’ll be fun.”(Like I’d ever had just one drink in my life.) I knew I shouldn’t have listened to that stupid voice.

I was on my third glass of wine (wine and beer were being paid for by the wedding party) when Joey Vincetti asked me to dance. I had briefly dated Joey in high school but we hadn’t seen each other much since then. He joined a frat in college and hung around mostly with his frat brothers. When he saw me standing by the dance floor, he approached like a vulture to a fresh carcass. Even though I was a little drunk, I could still tell he was even more wasted than I was.

“Hey, Babe,” he slurred as he slung an arm over my shoulder. “You’re looking delicious as always.”

I glanced up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me but he was thick with muscle. He was always a jock in high school, he excelled in football and wrestling, and obviously still worked out. His dark brown hair was a little messy and I noticed his white button down shirt was starting to get untucked from his well-worn and extremely well-fitting jeans. I remembered how well he filled out his jeans in high school. That was one of the main things that attracted me to him. That and his brown bedroom-eyes. All of his attributes seemed to have been slightly enhanced since our high school days. The good looking high school boy that I had been with was now an incredibly hot guy.

Joey was so close to me I could smell his cologne. The bar was crowded and loud, so he leaned in close to my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. My body responded with shivery tingles even though my mind was screaming, “No, run!”

“Wanna dance?” His question was more seductive than a normal request. I’m sure he wanted to dance in his bed later, too.

“I’m kind of waiting for someone,” I managed to get out with some difficulty. He was killing me with those beautiful brown eyes.

“Kind of? What does that mean? Either you’re waiting for someone or you’re not.”

I gulped. “I am waiting for someone.”

I knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I remembered Joey being very persistent in high school. I doubted things had changed much. The way he looked now, I’m sure he rarely heard the word no anyway.

“He’s not here now, is he?”

I shook my head.

“Remember how good we were together, Babe. That was, what, six—seven years ago—and I still remember how good you felt. You rocked my little sixteen year old world.” Then he leaned in even closer. His lips were so close to my neck, I thought he might start kissing me. “I still want you. Bad.”