McKenna

 

 

I TUG ON the side zipper of my dress, but no matter what I do, I can’t get it to go up. Rose is over in the corner putting the finishing touches on her wedding ensemble. She looks magnificent, as usual. I, on the other hand, am about to be the slumpy maid-of-honor if I can’t get my dress zipped. I’ve tried to lay off the pastries, but I needed something to help me get through all the uncertainty with Mom. Sweets are better than a crack habit.

The door opens and Emilie Dubois, the French supermodel with a heart of gold that prevents me from hating her, floats into the room. Of course she floats. What self-respecting supermodel wouldn’t float? She heads toward Rose with an envelope in her hand.

Knowing my dress is a lost cause, I admit defeat, scrunch the fabric in my hand and head over to the pair. “Emilie, can you please help me?”

“Sure.”

I point to the window and we leave Rose alone with her envelope. “I put on a few pounds since the final fitting.”

“No worries. Let me see what I can do.” After several attempts—I hold my breath as she pulls the zipper up with surprising strength—she manages to get the dress zipped. “There. How does that feel?”

I inhale. Oh. My. God. I better not eat anything during the reception. Or breathe too deeply. Can’t let on, though. It’s not her fault I’ve been overindulging. Moving back home will do away with anyone’s food resolutions. Not that mine ever were too strong.

“Good. Thanks so much!” I flip my hair—the only part of me that doesn’t feel like it’s about to pop off my body.

Ignoring the mass of dark brown hair falling around my shoulders, Emilie traces the part I dyed specifically for the wedding. “White?”

I nod. “I needed something demure for the occasion.” Knowing demure isn’t in my vocabulary, we burst out laughing.

From the other side of the room, Rose lets out a sob. Emilie and I look at each other and rush to her side. She waves a handwritten note—the opened envelope Emilie gave her in her other hand.

My eyes bounce from the letter to Rose’s face. “No crying! It’ll ruin your makeup!”

“He’s so,” sniffle, “amazing! Listen to what he wrote.” After Suzanne—holding her little daughter, Emma, who’s serving as the flower girl—joins us, she reads, “My dearest Rose, you are making me the happiest man today. I can’t wait to go to bed and wake up together for the rest of our lives, sharing the happy and the sad. From our night in college to today, you have been there for me, even when I was too stupid to realize it. I impatiently wait for you at the altar to declare to the whole world that I am yours. All my love, Cole.”

My hand covers my mouth and I realize I’m mirroring Emilie’s and Suzanne’s postures. What would it be like to find someone who loves me like Cole loves her? My reality tamps down such sentimentality. Who am I kidding? After Matt, true love isn’t in my vocabulary, either.

Rose’s eyes fill with tears again. I reach into my pocket—the reason I bought this dress—and wave a tissue in front of her face.

“Here. Let me.” Emilie grabs the tissue and dabs the tears, then fixes Rose’s makeup. Having a supermodel around sure is handy. After a few more touch-ups, Emilie declares, “There. Perfect.”

Rose smiles like everything is right with the world. I truly am happy for her—even knowing her happiness won’t ever be mine. Matt made sure of it. At least he’s locked away in prison.

Emilie clears her throat. “I think my work here is done. I will go take my seat and await your perfect day.” Emma races around in a circle and claps as Emilie leaves us for our final minutes of Rose’s singlehood.

Looking at my beautiful bestie, I say, “You’re so lucky, Rookie.”

She smiles at my use of her college nickname. I pluck the tissue out of her hand and dab at her cheeks. On a sigh, she says, “I know. I can’t believe this is really happening. Pinch me.”

I tweak the soft, fleshy part of her hand, and then wink. Leaning in, I whisper, “I think it’s real.” We both giggle.

“I would say this is your last chance to back out, but you’re a lost cause. I knew you were a goner when we reconnected in that suite in Las Vegas”—I leave out the part about the suite belonging to the utterly off-limits Ozzy Martinez—“and now you’re a bride.”

“I know. Can you believe it?”

Suzanne joins us, keeping one eye on her adorable, yet rambunctious, two-year-old. “I’ve never seen Cole like this with anyone, Rose. You saved him from living the whole shallow rockstar life.”

“He saved me, too. He made me live again.”

The wedding coordinator enters the room and announces it’s time for us to line up. Since I’m the only attendant besides the flower girl, I’m up first. I turn to Rose. “I’ll see you at the altar. I’ll be the one next to your man with the big, sappy smile on my face.” As we hug, I whisper, “So happy for you.”

I mean it. I am ecstatic for her. Because this won’t happen for me doesn’t mean I don’t want my friends to find and experience love. And Rose deserves all this happiness after everything she’s been through. I grab my bouquet of roses and lead us to the double doors.

The music changes and the sound of people turning in their chairs indicates it’s time for me to make my entrance. “See you on the other side, Miss Bloomer.”

I strut my stuff up the aisle, carrying my bouquet at hip level just like the coordinator told me to do. My nude stilettos are killer with my midcalf deep orange dress, if I do say so myself. Even if it’s a tad too small. Trying to forget how the dress feels—it’s better to look good than to feel good—I smile at friends I haven’t seen in a while and new ones I’ve met.

Better soak in all this happiness. It has to last me a lifetime as well.

Everything’s going great until I get up near the front. There he is. In an aisle seat. Of course he’s here—why did I think his non-appearance last night at the pre-wedding party open to all early-arriving guests meant I was out of the woods?

My cheeks deflate as my eyes lock onto the dark brown ones belonging to Ozzy. The ultimate bad boy rocker. The only man I’ve hooked up with since Matt. Too bad his wild streak can no longer fit into my recently re-prioritized life.

He’s wearing a tux that’s molded to his broad shoulders and trim waist. Dayum. His back straightens, and he nods at me.

Stay strong, McKenna.

I force my feet to keep a steady pace forward, my smile returning in full-force once I get past the man who makes my heart race, panties drop and heart break. Emilie’s nearby, next to her fiancé, Wills. I give her a little wave and take my place at the makeshift altar, across from Cole. He looks so calm. So sure of himself.

From the doorway, Suzanne urges Emma forward. She starts up the aisle, throwing rose petals all over. Literally. I shake my head at how cute this little girl is.

The music stops. Cole strides over to a piano and begins playing ‘To Have and to Hold,’ his latest hit that he co-wrote with Rose. As we practiced, when he sings, “You’re my heart—I’ll fight for us both,” Rose appears.

All the guests stand.

Rose is glowing as she glides up the aisle, carrying an overflowing bouquet of multi-colored roses. She stops a few feet away from me and when Cole finishes the song, he joins her, kisses her hand and they complete the walk together. Their eyes never stray from the other.

I breathe in their love.

The celebrant begins, “Dearly beloved.…”

His voice becomes background music.

Do not look past the couple. Do not tear your eyes away from your beautiful best friend on the most important day of her life. Do not even think about glancing at. Shit. Ozzy’s eyes are squarely on me. His kissable lips tick upward. Look away! Look away! His tongue swipes his lower lip. My nipples harden. Stop. Focus on Rose and Cole.

I rip my disloyal gaze from the tatted and pierced Latin rock god and focus on the shiny new couple standing at the altar. The celebrant says it’s time for them to exchange their vows and hands me Rose’s bouquet. It’s really gorgeous. And heavy.

Cole takes the mic. “Rose, before you came into my life, again, I was empty. Mom recognized you were meant for me long before I did. I can’t believe you so patiently waited for me to wise up, but I am forever grateful you did. You taught me how to open my heart and how to love. You brought meaning into my life, and have been my steady hand in the crazy rock and roll world. We’ve already been through so much, but I vow to love you more tomorrow than today, and to keep your needs above mine always. Because without you, I have no music. I am honored that you will call me your husband and will strive to deserve this title every day for the rest of my life.”

My mind goes to mush at his words. They truly have survived hell and deserve this happiness.

Cole hands the microphone to Rose, and wipes a tear off her cheek with his thumb. In a breathy voice that gets stronger as she speaks, she says, “Cole, I didn’t want to let myself go and trust you, after living in the background for so long. But you refused to take ‘no’ for an answer and kept pushing me to be a better person. And I am better because you’re in my life. You bring music to my soul and love to my world. I look forward to spending the rest of our days together and to facing whatever is ahead as one. I vow to put you above all else forever. I love you so much.”

When she finishes, a collective sigh raises to the ceiling from all of the guests. It’s obvious they have found their soul mates in each other, and it is truly special.

The celebrant calls for the rings and Jayson, Cole’s brother and best man, reaches into his pants pocket. And then the other pocket. “I know I have them somewhere,” he says, smiling at his big brother while tapping his chest. He reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out two ring boxes, holding them up high for everyone to see.

I snort at his antics, which I’m sure he planned. Looking out to all the guests, I’m not alone. Leave it to Jayson to inject his own brand of humor into the ceremony.

The celebrant swallows, then he blesses the rings. Hers is a beautiful diamond band, while his is a huge platinum one every fan will be able to see, even from the back rows. Nice.

After they slide the rings on each other’s fingers, the celebrant raises his voice. “By the power vested in me by the State of New Jersey, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—” Before he can finish his sentence, Cole plants his hands on Rose’s cheeks and brings her in for a long, delicious, swoon-worthy kiss to end all kisses.

My eyes stray from their very public display and venture down the aisle. Toward the one man whose kisses make my own toes curl. No! Do not do this again, McKenna. Before they reach their traitorous destination, I force my gaze to return to the embracing couple.

When Cole releases Rose, they smile at each other as if they’re the only two people in the world. They know how lucky they are to have made it to this point. Rose’s beaming face confirms they’re reveling in their good fortune.

“Let me introduce to you, for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Cole and Rose Manchester!”

Guests clap. Grinning, I return Rose’s bouquet to her and watch her join hands with the man who will hold hers for the rest of her life. The happy couple strolls down the aisle and for a moment, I feel the emptiness at being left here alone. It passes when Jayson offers me his arm to follow them. I even manage to ignore the oversized rocker as we pass.

When we get to the back of the room, I grab Rose and give her a big hug. “You did it, Mrs. Manchester!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Her smile radiates from her whole body. Now I understand why everyone wants to touch the bride on her wedding day—to soak up some of that giddy love.

I turn to Cole. “Come here,” he says, grinning.

Exchanging places with Jayson, I rush into his embrace and kiss his cheek. Raising on my tippy toes, I whisper in his ear, “You better make her happy for the rest of her life, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

He winks.

After everyone says their congratulations to the newlyweds, and the photographer has her way with all of us, I end up in the cocktail reception. My dress has adjusted to my somewhat fuller frame, so I pilfer a pig in a blanket from the server. I wonder what Cole promised Rose so she’d allow this delicacy to be served? Biting into the phyllo dough, I don’t care. Whatever it was, it was worth it.

“There you are, McKenna. I love your dress.”

Swallowing, I turn around and greet Rose’s friend-slash-PR client-slash-television star Jessie Anderson and her girlfriend. “Jessie! Amanda!” We exchange hugs.

Jessie asks, “Didn’t Rose look beautiful?”

“I know. She’s so gorgeous.” After gushing over the wedding, I can’t stop myself from prying. “So, how are things going with your show, Jessie? Care to share any secrets? I promise not to tell anyone.” I make an “X” over my heart.

“We wrapped last week until the new year. It’s a blockbuster finale, that’s for sure. Lots of pyrotechnics going on. But I can’t say anything more—I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

A server walks by with a tray of champagne, which I snag for the three of us. After handing a flute to Amanda, I ask her, “Did you get any more out of her than this?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Guess we have to wait like the rest of the world.”

“Geez. So much for insider info.” I raise my glass. “To the happy couple!”

The champagne goes down smoothly, washing away worries about where he is, even for a moment. Before I know it, I’ve guzzled the whole glass. Holding up the empty, I say, “I’m going to the bar. Anyone want anything?”

When they say no, I head off to one of the three bars set up around the perimeter of the room. Coming to a halt next to Grandma Gertie—Rose’s old neighbor, now her live-in cook cum confidante—I order a mojito.

“McKenna! Give me some love!”

I hug this woman with all I have. She’s my savior and doesn’t even know it. “Hi! How did you like the ceremony?”

“It was beautiful, don’t you think? The way Hot Stuff radiated his love for my little Rose nearly made my heart explode.”

I giggle at her very expressive, yet apt, description of Cole, and accept my drink from the bartender. Clinking my glass to hers, I agree. “Yes, they’re a fantabulous couple.”

Scanning the room, I find Ozzy over by one of the carving stations. “Come on, let’s catch up over here.” I indicate a sushi bar on the other side of the room from him.

We walk over and watch as the chef prepares a tuna roll. “Now this is something I’d never try to make. Give me a vegetable tray or some high-faluttin’ finger sandwiches, and I’m good to go. But this? No way.” She shakes her grey head.

Putting a California roll on my plate—how many calories can this have anyway?—I nod in agreement. “Or a dessert bar. You’d rock that.”

Grandma Gertie preens and leans in. Even though we’re both five-foot-nothing without shoes, I have to bend down due to my heels. “I may have had something to do with the desserts.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe Rose let you lift a finger for her wedding.”

She tosses her nose in the air. “Pfft. She tried. But I have my ways.”

I giggle and pop the sushi into my mouth. As I chew, her eyes widen a fraction, then her smile grows. Over her head, I search the room, but the buzzing of all the hairs on my body tells me all I need to know. It’s him.

A deep baritone wafts from behind me. “Two of my favorite ladies.”

Crap.

I stand stock-still while Grandma Gertie taps Ozzy on the chest before he pulls her up into a bear hug, lifting her feet right off the floor. I make sure mine are firmly planted and suck in a breath before turning around. Be strong, McKenna.

He puts her down and opens his arms to me, his tats covered by his tux. It can’t hide the muscles underneath, though. “Babes.”

At his use of the endearment, my heartrate picks up speed. Down! My traitorous body remembers the times he called me that as he was thrusting into me. No, no, no. Inhaling, I say, “Ozzy.”

My eyes travel up his torso and land somewhere around his chin. Danger ahead! Don’t look any higher.

Not noticing—or ignoring—my body language, he steps forward and his arms crush me to him. Due to our height difference, the top of my head reaches his pec, and I’m treated to the mouthwatering scent of the man. All musky with a slight hint of citrus. As I fight my pheromonal attraction to him, he whispers, “Let’s make this a real good time.” And then he nips my earlobe.

Every muscle in my body clenches, screaming out for him.

Once his arms become slightly lax, I step back and look directly into his eyes. His pupils are pinpricks. And his cheeks carry a light flush.

What the?

I know these signs—he’s high.

No. Freaking. Way.

My chin raises. “What are you on right now?”

He breaks into a wide grin. “Some Molly. Got some here for you, too.” He flicks his long, very talented fingers down toward his trouser pocket.

I recoil. Why does he think I’d touch the stuff? Before something awful spews out of my mouth, the wedding coordinator approaches me. “McKenna, we’re getting ready for the grand entrance. Please come with me.” Excusing myself from Grandma Gertie and ignoring the high rocker next to me, I turn on my heel and follow the coordinator out of the room. Fuming with every step.

I don’t care that he sets my blood ablaze from the inside out with his touch.

He’s not who I want. He can’t be. Especially now that he’s strung out. I don’t remember him using drugs in the past, but I wasn’t around him too often. What brought on his using now? Or is it a new lifestyle choice for him?

No matter what, I can’t have that back in my life again. Drugs took away Daddy and landed me back home with more responsibilities than ever. Mom is my priority now. No way will I ever go down that road again.

Oblivious to my inner thoughts, the coordinator leads me into a room where Cole, Rose, Jayson, Suzanne and her husband Dan plus Emma are standing around. Cole’s dad and Rose’s mom—oh, joy—round out the rest of the group. The coordinator asks us all to wait here while she lets the band know we’re ready for introductions.

I head toward Suzanne but don’t take more than a couple of steps before Rose’s mom intercepts me. I force a smile. “Ms. Bloomer.”

She waves her hand. “McKenna. How long have you known me? Please, call me Lynn.”

Wishing I had my mojito so I could swallow the whole thing in one gulp, I repeat after her while gritting my teeth. “Lynn.”

I haven’t been on good terms with Lynn ever since Rose and I were college roommates. She thought I was flighty. A bad influence. All because I changed majors a few times and dated a few guys—at the same time. Well, I guess I was a bit of a head case back then. Life has a way of smacking that right out of you. At least she doesn’t know about what happened after graduation. I’ve worked hard to make sure few people know. Besides, so many years have passed, it’s old news.

“I wanted to tell you that I love your dress. Rosie told me you picked it yourself. You have such great style.”

Opening my clenched fists buried in my pockets, I reply, “Thanks.”

“And all of the wedding papers, especially the programs, were gorgeous. Rosie told me you designed everything.”

My limbs relax. Her words aren’t what I expected. They almost soothe the pain left throughout my body from Ozzy’s hug. Almost.

“Why, thank you so much. Coming from you, it means a lot.” I offer her a genuine smile. This was some of my best work in recent memory, but I still can’t label them gorgeous.

Rose’s diamond-studded hand lands on my arm. She, above everyone else, knows my history with her mom. As she looks between us, she licks her lips. “Everything alright here?”

“Of course, Rosie. I was just complimenting McKenna on the job she did for all of your wedding stationery. She’s really grown up.”

Rose looks at me for confirmation. Ignoring her final snarky remark, I nod. “I’m so happy she likes them. And you, too, Rookie.”

“The design was so different. Even my wedding coordinator asked me who did them.”

I force a laugh. “Well, if my work with the Artist Avenue Adventure Project goes south, I’ll look her up.” It better not. I’m counting on winning their regional contest next month, and going on to the Consortium’s national competition. I have to—Mom needs the purse. Just hope true inspiration hits my graphics. Somehow.

Our conversation ends when the coordinator returns to the room and says everything’s ready. I take my place next to Jayson, right behind Cole’s dad, Ken, and Lynn. The MC introduces them first.

Jayson bends down. “Ready to set the room on fire, McKenna?”

Oh boy. What does he have in mind? I shrug. “Do your worst!”

“Oh, I plan on it. Follow my lead.”

The MC says, “The groom’s brother and best man, Jayson Manchester, together with maid-of-honor McKenna James.”

Hoots and hollers greet us as the doors are opened. Jayson grabs my left hand and tugs me forward, then raises both of his in the air. Since I’m connected to him, my left one goes up with his, and I lift my right one with my bouquet, too. Halfway across the dancefloor, he stops, drops to the floor and does the worm. The worm! I do my fancy kick move when he jumps back to his feet. He twirls me around, ending by dipping me down to the floor. I suck in my breath as the zipper pinches my side, extend my right arm and hold the pose. The MC says, “Well, that certainly was an entrance.”

Standing upright, I hug my partner and offer a silent prayer that the zipper held. We walk over to the parents. Ken shakes his head while Lynn looks only slightly horrified. Standing next to Cole and Jayson’s father, I clap for Emma as she makes a beeline to her dad, who scoops her up.

“And now the couple of the hour, please make some noise for Mr. and Mrs. Manchester!”

“Woo-hoo!!” I scream while Jayson whistles and guests clap and stomp. The couple walks out to the center of the dancefloor and does a full circle. The MC announces their first dance and everyone crowds around.

Rose and Cole dance to “Unforgettable,” performed beautifully by the band. After a minute or so, the MC invites us all to join them. Jayson pulls me forward and we assume a formal dance posture as he waltzes me around. I didn’t know he had these moves, but I’m thankful to be—at least momentarily—swept away from the man I know is in the crowd and who I’ll have to face again before the night is through.

When we approach the bride and groom he says to his brother, “Guess we shouldn’t show up the happy couple,” and whacks him on the shoulder. Cole replies, “Not a chance, baby bro,” and whisks Rose away with some fancy footwork of his own. I laugh at their antics.

When the song ends, Jayson leads me over to his boyfriend, Carl. Kissing him, Jayson says, “You’re all mine now.” He turns to me. “Of course, feel free to drag me out to the dancefloor if your date isn’t up to snuff.”

I high-five both men. They don’t know I came alone. Perfect. It’s not like I need a partner to dance with anyway. I make my own dances, thank you very much. I hope Ozzy doesn’t figure out I’m here sans date. Although he didn’t seem to care when he was offering me a good time, washed down with drugs.

After Cole and Rose dance with their new in-laws—the traditional pairings can’t be made—everyone is invited to take their seats for the toasts. Which means I’m up first.

Grabbing a champagne flute from my place setting—far away from the man I want to avoid, thank you Rose for honoring my seating request—I walk over to the MC and grab the mic. Pulling my notes out of my pocket, I start, “Can you believe the day has finally arrived?”

One-hundred-plus wedding guests laugh and clap. Encouraged, I continue, “I’ve known Rookie since we were freshmen roommates at NYU. She had this huge crush on the star of all the musicals on campus, and dragged me not only to Cole’s shows, but also to all of his solo performances around the City. I thought it was cute, since half the school had the hots for him. Myself excluded, of course.”

Laughter bubbles up from the crowd as Rose blushes. Cole grabs her hand. If only I could bottle their love, I’d make a fortune. My money worries would be a thing of the past.

I clear my throat. “Now, Rose and Cole met up much later and that’s where their real romance started. We all know what they went through to get to today.” I pause. “And I want to say I’ve never seen two people more in love than they are. They love each other, yes, but they also like each other. And treat each other with respect and kindness. Their relationship is one love ballads aspire to capture.” The several musicians in the room show their appreciation with applause at this line. I refuse to check if Ozzy’s one of them.

“It doesn’t matter that Cole’s an international rockstar or that Rose is a totally up-and-coming PR guru. Together, they are the perfect combination.”

I raise my glass. “So, please, let’s give a toast to my best friend and her husband, the newly-minted Manchesters. May they have a long, happy and joyful life together.”

I take a sip and then rush over to them. Hugging her, I say, “I love you, Rookie.” And she whispers the same back to me. After kissing Cole on the cheek again, I return to my seat.

The reception continues and I dance with people I know, people I don’t know and by myself. Emilie’s fiancé Wills even took a turn on the dancefloor with me.

Eventually, I need to come up for air, so I head to the bar. Taking a spot near the end, my eyes skim over the crowded dance floor. Ozzy’s nowhere to be found.

“The lady will have a mojito, and I’ll take a Cuba Libre.”

My back stiffens. Muscular arms bracket my body while we wait for the bartender to make our drinks. I remain ramrod straight. No, I’m not going to lean back into his hard body. One I remember so well. One that has given me more pleasure than I ever thought possible. He’s high.

“Still know your drink, babes,” he says directly into my ear. Hot puffs of his breath skid across my sensitive skin.

“Yes,” my voice croaks.

“I also know what else you like. To swallow.” He punctuates his last sentence with a nip to my lobe.

My breathing hitches. He flexes his hips into my backside, his size XXL cock making contact with my butt. Stay strong, McKenna. I don’t move a muscle. That he can see. Kegels on the other hand….

The bartender brings our drinks and I gratefully grab mine and slip away from Ozzy’s quasi-embrace. From a few steps away, I chug a quarter of it and lift it to him. “Thanks.”

He closes the gap I created. “I know how you could thank me.” Running his fingers down my bare arm, he continues, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you on my flight over here from Vegas. It was so lonely on my plane.”

“I bet the flight attendants and other passengers in first class kept you entertained.”

He wraps his large hand around my wrist, overlapping his fingers. His size dwarfs me. Makes me even feel small. “Nah. Flew private.”

Nice life. I had to save for months to afford my flight from Vegas. I rip my arm from his grip. “Yeah, well, us commoners fly coach.”

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t be like this.” He traces my jawline with his finger, causing me to purse my lips. “You know we’re fucking amazing together. I could take you over there,” he juts his chin toward a closed door, “and make you feel real good.”

Looking into his tiny pupils, my resolve to push him away strengthens. Even if he’s my drug of choice, I will not give in to the desire swirling low in my belly. Too much rides on my shoulders now. I promised Daddy I’d take care of Mom, and she needs all my attention. “Not going to happen, Ozzy.”

He bends down and puts his nose in my hair, inhales deeply, then trails his lips over to my mouth. Kissing me, he says, “Sure there’s no way I can tempt you?”

He’s a living, breathing walking temptation. To me and to every female on earth. Okay, maybe not to Rookie, but still. I raise my chin. “No.” Shit. Why did I sound breathless?

My cell phone vibrates. I place my half-full mojito on a nearby table and reach into my pocket. My stomach clenches when Becky’s name shows on the screen. Turning away from him, I accept the call.