Chapter 4 - Naomi
By the time Saturday comes around, our boss, Julia, has talked the whole office’s ear off about her bachelorette party. At least Meg has stopped teasing me about Max Westbrook.
Mostly.
“Imagine if Max saw you like this,” Meg whistles when I walk out of the bathroom. She wiggles her eyebrows. I laugh, rolling my eyes. My hands fly to my hair to smooth it down, and I glance at myself in the hallway mirror. I shake my head.
“Stop it.”
“He’d be begging you to give him all kinds of physio.”
“Oh my God, Meg, shut up!” I laugh as a blush stains my cheeks. “You’re the worst.”
“And by the worst, you mean the best, right?”
“I’m just glad Meg’s attention is off me,” our friend, Ariana, calls out from the kitchen. “I couldn’t take all the teasing about Mason.”
She appears with two glasses of white wine, handing one to me and the other to Meg.
“I’m not done with you and Mason,” Meg laughs. “Just momentarily occupied.”
“Well ‘momentarily occupy’ yourself with something else,” I retort. The two of them laugh. Ariana ducks back into the kitchen and grabs herself a glass, and then we clink them all together.
“In all honesty, Naomi,” Meg says, “you look like a knockout. You should wear green more often, it makes your eyes and your hair look insane.”
“Thanks for lending me this.” I run my fingers down the silky fabric covering my hips. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Keep it,” Meg says with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t fit me properly anyways. I’ve never even worn it. I don’t have your body.”
“Meg,” I start, shaking my head. “You’re like, the definition of a perfect ten. You look like a supermodel.”
“If we’re just standing around handing out compliments, when do I get a turn?” Ariana laughs. She drops onto the couch and drains half her glass of wine in one sip.
“You have enough men following you around like lost puppies showering you with compliments,” Meg shoots back, cocking her hip to the side and arching her eyebrow. “How many boyfriends do you have right now? I lost track.”
Ariana grins. “None, thank you very much. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
A short moment of silence precedes riotous laughter exploding out of all three of us. Meg goes to the speaker and plugs in her phone, putting on some music. I sit down next to Ariana, letting her top off my glass while Meg starts dancing on the coffee table.
We polish off two bottles of wine before heading out the door to meet Julia.
By the time we make it to the bar, Julia and the rest of her friends are there. By the look of it, they’re on their second or third round already. We show up just in time to be handed a shot of something blue, and get a stumbling hug from our boss. She’s wearing a thrift-store veil and a sash that says ‘Bride-to-Be.’
I exchange a glance with Ariana, who just shrugs and takes the shot. She leans over towards me as I stare suspiciously at the blue liquid.
“Come on, Naomi,” she half-shouts into my ear over the music. “You need to loosen up a little. When was the last time you got laid?”
I hate how easily I blush, especially in moments like these. Ariana laughs.
“I rest my case.”
I roll my eyes and knock the shot back. Ariana cheers, and Julia reappears with an armful of sashes.
“Put these on,” she shouts as the music thumps. I take one, glancing at Meg and Ariana.
“‘Bride Tribe’,” Meg reads. She grins at me and then shrugs. “I guess that’s us.”
We shrug into the silly sashes and Julia hugs us again. As much as I resisted coming, I can’t deny how happy she looks. She waves her head back and forth and plays with her veil as she takes another shot. Her other friends lean in for a picture and everyone laughs and hugs.
I look down at my ‘Bride Tribe’ sash and feel a pang in my chest.
I never really believed in weddings. My mother never married, and I don’t even know who my father is. She raised me to be independent, and I always thought that marriage was an institution designed to keep women in their place.
But now, I watch Julia, and I wonder if that’s true. She runs a successful physical therapy practice, and she’s a great boss. And yet, here she is, getting drunk and celebrating how happy she is to be getting married. Is it possible to have it both ways?
Meg hands me a drink as we watch them screaming and dancing.
“Sickening, isn’t it,” she says to me.
I grin, shrugging. “I don’t know, it’s kind of nice. She looks really happy.”
“She looks really drunk,” Meg corrects. “And just because you have a crush on some rich ex-football star, don’t go all gooey on me.”
I dig my elbow into her ribs as she laughs, throwing her arm around me. “Come on, let’s dance,” she says. “It would be rude not to.”
We elbow our way onto the dance floor, forming a circle around Julia. We sway and laugh and dance as the joy becomes contagious. I can’t help but be happy for Julia.
Meg turns towards me and dances with me, clinking her glass against mine. I grin and take a sip, when she looks over her shoulder. Her jaw drops and my heart starts beating. Meg glances back at me, nodding her chin behind me as she arches her eyebrow.
She doesn’t need to say anything, because I already know who it is. Whether it was the expression on her face, or if I could just sense him behind me, I know it’s him.
Max Westbrook.
The music gets quieter as I turn around, and people seem to be moving in slow motion as our eyes lock. His eyes are bluer than I remembered. He takes a step towards me, gliding through the crowd of dancers like a shark through a school of fish.
His eyes roam over my body, sending delicious tingles coursing through my veins. His dark hair is pushed back from his broad forehead, and his black t-shirt is pulled tight across his muscular chest. I ball my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.
He looks a lot better in those jeans than he does in athletic shorts.
A lot better.
When he’s in front of me, I inhale his scent and another thrill passes through me. He leans forward and his cheek brushes against mine as his hand drifts to my hip. He lays a soft kiss on my cheek and says hello.
I melt.
I close my eyes as the smell of man fills my nostrils.
“Bride Tribe?” He asks, pulling away and arching his eyebrow as a grin stretches his lips.
I laugh, shrugging and pointing my thumb over my shoulder towards Julia. She’s found a condom somewhere, and is slingshotting it across the dance floor to a chorus of shrieks and laughs. Max nods, grinning.
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” I reply.
“You want to get some air?” He nods to the front door of the bar.
“Yeah,” I say. I can’t seem to manage any actual words. I glance back at Meg, who is staring at me with a big grin on her face. Ariana is right beside her, giving me a not-so-subtle thumbs-up. I shake my head, turning back towards Max. He slips his hand into mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world and guides me towards the exit.