“You dress with more skin showing than fabric. You invited me to your house for a movie. You’ve been all over me all night.”
“Bullshit!” My voice grows louder. “You’ve been the one pawing at me all night. And I invited you over to watch a movie, not to sleep together.” I stand and head to the front door, opening it wide. “You can go.”
He stays where he sits on the couch. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The first fissure of fear cracks my veneer. “You are.” I try to keep my voice even and continue to stand with the door open.
He waits me out in silence, and I pretend to inspect my nails instead of wondering if I should call one of my brothers to help me. God, how embarrassing would that be? Poor little Chevelle can’t take care of herself.
After a few minutes, he finally bolts up from the couch, hands in fists at his sides. “Fine. Your loss.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be crying tonight.”
He grabs his candy and microwave popcorn, walking past me. “Cocktease.”
After he’s gone, I slam the door and flick the lock, turning off the lights. I walk into the kitchen, grab the plate of cookies, and retreat to my room. Something has me picking up my family photo album and flipping through the pages, wishing for the millionth time that my mom was still here to give me advice.
I stare at the bridesmaid’s dress hanging on my closet door. I’m the last one standing and I’m not sure if I like that or not. It used to not bother me at all, but now… I don’t know. Then again, step one would be meeting a guy who’s worth my forever. Sure, there’s Cam, but he’s not marriage material.
4
“OH, HE JUST WROTE HIS FUCKING DEATH CERTIFICATE.”
Chevelle
I’m getting ready for Mandi and Noah’s wedding, take two, collecting my dress, my makeup bag, and everything I need to get ready when the doorbell rings.
Their original wedding didn’t happen because Mandi called it off, but they’ve since worked out all their shit and are more excited than ever to be husband and wife.
I jog down the steps and open the front door, expecting it to be Nikki because she probably thinks I’m going to be late and feels like she needs to pick me up to keep me on schedule. But standing on the other side of the door is a man in a suit and holding a bouquet of flowers in front of his face. I can tell that it’s Derek.
I haven’t seen or talked to him in a few weeks.
When I don’t say anything, he lowers the flowers away from his face and smiles brightly. I open my mouth to tell him to go away, but he holds up a hand. “Give me a chance to apologize?”
I close my mouth and wait for his words, but they aren’t going to make much of a difference to me. I made the right call when I broke things off with him.
“I’m sorry I acted like an asshole. There’s no excuse for me saying those things or acting like that to you. I’ve been stressed with the job on the boat. The guys are all being dicks to me. Then you have this whole big life here with all these people who love you and I don’t have anyone. My parents sure as shit don’t care about me. They don’t even know where I am. I guess I was anxious for things to work out with you because I want someone on my side.”
“You said I was a cocktease. How does feeling lonely account for you doing that?”
He looks at his feet, shaking his head. “I was mad because I felt judged by your sister and her fiancé, so I lashed out and said mean things to make you hurt the way I was. But I promise it’ll never happen again. Just give me another chance. Please, Chevelle.”
I look at him, really look at him, to see if he’s sincere and I think maybe he is. My head says to tell him to leave, but my heart feels that tug as it always does when someone is asking to be forgiven. I mean, everyone deserves a second chance, right? No one is perfect. I know better than anyone what it’s like to make a mistake.
My family doesn’t know I broke off whatever we had because any time they inquired about him, I just said he was out at sea. If they knew we split so soon, they’d probably chalk it up to me picking a loser again.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” He drops to his knees with a small smirk because he can probably feel me softening.
“Get up, Derek.”
He stands and he’s about to step into the house when I place my hand on his chest. “I have to go to the inn to get ready.” I run my hand down my face, hoping I’m not going to regret this decision. “We can start off by you coming to the wedding with me.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I heard your sister’s wedding was moved to today. That’s why I came prepared and dressed in a suit.”
“I’m not saying everything is okay, but we’ll go to the wedding and then we’ll figure it out from there. Deal?”
He nods a bunch of times. “More than fair. And I’m going to treat you like a fucking queen. You’ll never wanna let me go.”
I give him a small smile. “I hope so. Can you drive me over to the inn?”
He steps out of my way and puts out his hand. “Your chariot awaits.”
I grab my stuff and lock the front door then walk to his car and put everything in the back seat. He shuts my door and I put on my seat belt. I watch him walk in front of the car to his side and his smile is so wide. He looks so happy.
I can’t imagine living with no family. No one on your side to care about you even when you screw up. I mean, my family still loves me even though it’s my fault my mom is dead. What could Derek have done for them to disown him like that? But I don’t want to broach that conversation today when we’re trying to repair things between us.
After he pulls out of the driveway and starts down the road, he holds out his hand to me. I slide my palm into his and our fingers lock. His thumb runs along my forefinger.
“Thank you,” he says with such an earnest expression that I no longer question my decision to give him a second chance. “I have to go to work after the ceremony, but I’ll be back in a couple of days. Maybe we could go on a date?”
I smile at him. “I’d like that.”
He tightens his hand around mine. “Good.”
We arrive at the inn, and I give him a peck on the cheek before climbing out of his car and gathering my things.
“Can’t wait to see you all dolled up,” he says.
I don’t bother to tell him that the senior citizens from the retirement home made our dresses and to temper his expectations. Rather, I say, “I’ll be interested to hear what you think.”
We smile at one another, a spring of hope running through my heart. Maybe I was too quick to judge him. He has some unresolved issues in his life. Who doesn’t?
By the time I reach the room upstairs where everyone is getting ready, I’m the only one still in street clothes and not in their dress.
“Finally! Do you not have a clock?” Nikki says as soon as I walk into the room.
“I’m, like, five minutes late.”
Marla, my stepmom, comes up and runs her hands down my hair. “Don’t worry about it. You’re here. I saw a young man drop you off.”