Autumn turned to check out her backside, smoothing the dress over her hip. “Oh, it’d take way more than a minute. But, a little secret, we’ve actually not had sex at all this week. Part of it is that I’ve been on my period, but also just to make it that much hotter when we do get that time alone. Which will be on the beach in the Caribbean, and not a moment sooner.” She eyed me. “And I’m more interested in Laurel’s little situation myself.”
“This is Autumn’s day,” I said. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s a nonissue. If he thinks he’s going to own me, like rope me into some Dom-Sub Fifty Shades nonsense, he can think again. Unless he wants to be the sub, in which case I might be persuaded to at least hear him out. But that’s not how he sounded, and I’ve already done the rock star bit anyway. Not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Well shit. If I’d wanted attention off me and my little issue with Titus Bright, this was a dumb way to go about it.
Lizzy snorted. “Well now you have to tell us. Which rock star did you bang?”
“Jamison Flare,” I sighed. “From Sun Storm.”
Teddy’s head shot up and her eyes met mine. “How on earth did you manage that? The only musician more reclusive than Jamison Flare is that guy with three names from Tool.”
“It was accidental. Meeting him, I mean, not the sex. The sex was intentional, obviously. Remember a couple years ago—three years? Maybe four, it’s hard to remember—when I took those five days in Maui? We met in the hotel bar. He had the penthouse, and I had the next best suite under his. We basically spent every night that whole week together. We’d do whatever separately during the day, but once we were back at the hotel for the night, I’d go up and we’d drink champagne and screw. And it was a lot of fun. He was really, really hot, and had a really great dick, but…he wasn’t that great in bed, and talking to him was like talking to a brick wall. He was just shitty, terrible, and absolutely abysmal at making conversation. Like, he was a caveman. Grunt once for yes, grunt twice for no, and sex was even worse. He’d just hump and pump until he came and then roll over and grab his phone and ignore me. The fame and the dick weren’t worth it. It was still better than no sex, and it’s fun to be able to brag that I banged Jamison Flare, but…two out of ten, would not recommend.”
Kat made a shrugging gesture with her champagne flute. “But then, that’s just Jamison Flare, that’s not every musician, every rock star.”
I sighed. “Yeah, but what you’re missing is that he treated me like I was interchangeable with every other groupie, like I’d chased him backstage and begged him to fuck me. That’s not what happened, and I never acted like I was fucking him because of who he was. Yet to him, I was just another nameless, faceless set of tits and ass.” I waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “Regardless, it’s not about whether or not Titus Bright is a rock star, it’s about how he assumed he would own me.”
“He didn’t say ‘own,’ though, did he?” Teddy asked. “He said you’d belong to him. That’s not the same as owning.”
“Belonging to him implies the reverse is also true,” Lizzy said. “That he equally belongs to you.”
I groaned. “Why are you guys pushing this? If I’m not interested in Titus Bright, what is that to any of you?”
Teddy came over and sat on my lap, put an arm over my shoulders. “Because, dumpling, you’re saying no before you’ve given him a chance.”
Autumn came over, stood in front of me, pressed her palms to my cheeks, bent forward and kissed my forehead. “My advice? Give it a shot. See what’s he about. If you discover you don’t like what he’s about, you can nope out. And none of us will blame you for that if you do. But if you stay away just because you had a bad experience with someone else who isn’t him and for all you know is nothing like him, then we kinda will hold that against you. I feel like there are lessons to be learned from Lizzy’s and my experience. Risk nothing, gain nothing. Risk a lot, gain a lot.”
I sighed, more of a groan than anything. “And what if I risk and it doesn’t work out?”
“You get hurt, and we’re there to pick up the pieces,” Teddy said. “It’s what friends are for.”
“Just like that?” I asked.
Teddy shrugged. “Sure. I’m not saying it’d be easy, but yeah, just like that.”
I wasn’t so sure. It seemed far easier and far safer to just stay on the other side of the yard from Titus Bright.
2
Seven St. John stood alone in front of the white, red rose-wreathed archway, clad in a fitted tuxedo. The girls and I were seated in the front row, with Seven’s father, his agent, his manager, and half a dozen of his friends—two world-champion boxers, a certain A-list actor whose name was known by every household in the world, just about, Frederick Lyons the restaurateur, and a handsome, well-dressed black man who Autumn had said was a famous NFL running back, and a massive man with short curly black hair and dark brown skin, who Autumn had said was a Maori from New Zealand and a professional rugby player. Gorgeous, that one. But I, to my eternal damnation, had eyes only for the man on the stool, with a beautiful acoustic guitar, off to one side, playing an acoustic, instrumental version of “Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran.
Autumn was positively radiant, striding toward him. Since we five girls plus Braun were Autumn’s only family, and since Seven’s guest list was similarly small, there was no block of chairs, no center aisle, just one row—so Autumn walked up to Seven from the side.
Autumn glided, slow and smooth, approaching Seven with a glowing smile on her face, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers. The minister was a short, svelte black woman, her hair a dozen thick dreads braided through with colorful beads and wrapped with silver and gold wire, bound back with a brightly colored beaded band, wearing a white gown that was designed to reflect her African heritage. She held a folder in her hands, and smiled beatifically as Autumn halted in front of Seven. Lizzy rose and took the flowers from her, then sat back down while Autumn and Seven joined hands.
“Hi, everyone,” the minister said. “Today is a glorious, beautiful day.” It was, indeed—sunny and warm, but not too hot. “We’re here to bear witness as true love unites two souls, Autumn Scott and Seven St. John. I’m not going to ask if anyone objects, because if anyone did, you wouldn’t be here, would you? No, there can be no objection to this union. It’s love, made plain as day. I mean, come on, just look at them. Have you ever seen a man look at a woman the way this guy is looking at her? I haven’t, and I’ve done a lot of weddings. That’s love.” She held her folder in one hand and placed the other over Seven and Autumn’s joined hands. “As their hands are joined, so now are their souls, and their very lives. This is a ceremony—it’s a declaration, from them, to you and the world, that they’re committing to each other. A marriage, on the face of it, is not anything more than a legal procedure. But, when two like-minded souls decide to unite in holy matrimony, like Seven and Autumn, it becomes something far, far more—it’s a braiding of hearts. No longer will there be the heart of Autumn and the heart of Seven, but one heart, one soul, comprised of two halves. That’s what we’re doing here. They give this ceremony meaning. As long as their hearts are one, this marriage will stand strong and define the course of their life. And I say life, singular, rather than lives plural, on purpose. Theirs is now one life. You all are witnesses, as I declare them husband and wife.”