AFTER A FAST breakfast with Juls, Joey and I return to the bakery and put the finishing touches on the wedding cake before loading it up into Sam. The reception hall is thirty minutes away and traffic is a nightmare, but we make it on time and drop the beautiful, white chocolate, Gerber daisy cake off without any issues. I shower and dress after saying my goodbyes to Joey and lock the shop up, deciding to sit outside on the bench, which is a store down from mine, while I wait for Juls. Today is dress-shopping day and I’m not sure who is more excited about it, her or me. I’ve never been in a wedding party before and am delighted to be a part of Ian and Juls’ special day. Plus, I would have the hottest date on the planet. Of course, that’s if we are still doing this thing between us in three months. The thought unsettles me and I scroll through my phone while I sit on the bench, pulling up his last text message.
Reese: Don’t pull away from me.
What the hell does that even mean? I’m sure it doesn’t mean the way I’m interpreting it, which is in the most gigantic scheme of things way possible. I’m sure he’s only referring to my justified freak out over the pictures I received yesterday. Shit. The thought of them makes me queasy. His face, the face I had hoped was only reserved for me, clearly isn’t because it’s been captured by another woman. I sigh forcefully and jam my phone into my jeans pocket. How stupid of me to think he only looks at me like that. That I’m the only woman he watches intently as he’s coming. I close my eyes tightly and the sound of a car approaching causes me to peek them open. Juls’ black Escalade pulls up to the curb and the passenger window rolls down as I stand up.
“Let’s go, sweets.”
I smile, pushing all of the Reese drama to the very back of my mind. I can’t think about this shit right now. Today is about Juls, and I’m going to keep my mind occupied with all things maid of honor like.
We’ve arrived at Christian’s Bridal Shop, and after a few moments of quick hysteria over the fact that we are actually shopping for Juls’ wedding dress, we walk around the store and peruse the selections. Juls’ sister Brooke, who will be the other bridesmaid next to Joey, met us here shortly after we arrived. I haven’t seen her in a while and she’s been talking my ear off nonstop about the lack of men in her life and probing for information on mine.
“Oh, come on, Dylan. Tell me all about this guy who works with Ian. I’m dying for some hardcore gossip and Juls won’t tell me shit,” she says from the dressing room next to me. We’ve been handed a few dress choices and I’m currently slipping myself into a chocolate brown strapless number that feels and looks incredible. Damn. Would it be weird to buy this if Juls doesn’t pick this for her big day? I zip up the back and open the curtain.
“There’s nothing to tell. He’s just a guy I’m having fun with.” I step out and hop up onto the pedestal in front of a massive mirror, seeing Juls’ reflection as she stands behind me.
“Holy shit. I love that one. What do you think though? Is it comfortable? Do you think we should go for something more cheery, like maybe a burnt orange color?”
I spin around to face her. “Burnt orange? How the hell is that more cheery? And are you trying to make us look like pumpkins?”
She bites her bottom lip and eyes up my dress as Brooke walks out in the exact same one. “I love this one. Juls, pick this because the other three are fucking hideous and make me look like I’m six months pregnant.”
Juls moves to stand by her sister and runs her hand over the material. “Yup, this is it. You both look amazing in it and I love the color.” She smiles and bobs her head. “Well, that was way too fucking easy. Now it’s time for the real fun.” She wiggles her brows and walks to her dressing room while Brooke and I stand and gaze at our reflections.
“And what do you mean you’re just having fun with this guy? Are you telling me it’s strictly a sex thing between you two, because if you are, I think that’s bullshit. Guys can make that shit work, but I don’t think girls can. We’re too emotional.” Jesus. Did she hit the nail on the head or what? Leave it to Brooke to be exceedingly insightful when she hasn’t even met the guy I’m just having fun with yet.
“I’m keeping my emotions out of it.” Or, at least, I’m desperately trying to.
“Ha! Yeah, okay, good luck with that. How’s the sex?” I glance over at her and issue my wicked grin. “Damn. I need to start checking out office buildings for smart men. You and my sister are making bank.”
My phone beeps in my dressing room and I hop down quickly, racing in to pull it out of my discarded jeans. My heart sinks a bit at the message sender.
Joey: Party is postponed. My baby has the stomach bug that’s going around. How’s the dress shopping going?
Me: Oh no! Tell Billy I hope he feels better. We just picked out our dresses and Juls is trying hers on now. I’ll send you a pic.
Well, shit. I guess I won’t be seeing Reese tonight at the party after all. My disappointment quickly gets blanketed by the realization that it might be a good thing to go a few days without seeing him. Between the accidental, but not really accidental, sleepover to the photos I received, I have a lot of shit to think about. I hear a gasp from Brooke and I quickly slip out of my dressing room and let my eyes fall on Juls who has just emerged from hers. Holy shit.
“Holy shit. Juls… oh my, that’s… oh, wow.” There are no words to describe the woman I’m staring at right now. She’s beautiful, exquisite even, in a strapless tight laced bodice and ruffled skirt, her tiny waist accented with a deep brown sash that falls down her back and onto her train.
“Wow. You look amazing,” Brooke states as her sister takes her place on her pedestal and begins to twirl slowly.
“It’s beautiful, right?” She shakes her hands out by her side and I can tell she’s nervous.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Is it weird that I have no desire to try on any other dresses? I mean, this is the first one I put on and I feel like this is it. I can see myself marrying Ian in this. Maybe I should try on more.”
“Fuck that. Who cares if it’s the first one you try on. You look amazing in it. Like crazy amazing. I can totally see you marrying Ian in this dress,” I reply and see the tension leave her shoulders. Leave it to Juls to worry about the standards of bridal gown shopping. Her smile widens in the mirror and I can tell she’s on to something. “What?” She quickly hops down and slips back into her dressing room.
“Damn it. I wanna get married. There better at least be some hot groomsmen for me to fool around with at this thing,” Brooke grunts.
“The best man is off limits, just so you know,” I reply and she squints at me.
Juls re-emerges with another gown in her hands and walks over to me, thrusting it into my arms. “Here, try this on.”
“What? Are you crazy?” She must be if she thinks I’m slipping into a wedding gown. “I am not trying on a wedding dress.”
“Why not? This would look amazing on you, right, Brooke?” Oh, for Christ’s sake.
Brooke steps up and admires the gown. “She’s right, Dylan. It’s a halter and you always look amazing in halter dresses with those boobs of yours. Remember prom? God, I fucking hate you both.”
I back up. “You are both nuts. There’s no way I’m putting that thing on or any other wedding dress for that matter. I’m pretty sure I’d seal my fate as being perpetually single if I did.” This is an honest fear. Karma has been increasingly hostile toward me lately and I can see her crossing her arms and stomping her foot at me now, daring me to push my luck.
“Oh, come on, Dyl. Brooke will try some on too, right, Brooke?” We both look at her sister who is sulking on her pedestal.
“Whatever. I fucking hate weddings.”
I shake my head and turn back to Juls who is staring me down. “No.”
She stomps her foot and grits her teeth. “Excuse you, but as maid of honor you’re supposed to do everything I ask.”
“And that includes trying on wedding gowns? Are you mental?”
She frowns big time at me and I melt. Damn it. “Fine, give me the stupid thing.” I rip it from her hands and march with fury to my dressing room as she squeals in delight. This is insane and completely ridiculous. After stripping out of my maid of honor dress, annoyed, I step into the wedding gown and slowly zip it up, my eyes widening as I gaze down at myself. “Oh, shit,” I whisper, obviously not low enough because Juls rips open the curtain.
“Wow. You look incredible.” She pulls me from my room and pushes me up onto the pedestal as Brooke walks up behind me.
“Damn, Dylan. Would it be weird to put that shit on hold indefinitely?”
I smile subtly at her comment and gaze at my reflection. My chest tightens at the sight of myself. Me, in a wedding gown, and I look amazing. Crap. I’m covered in lace from my detailed halter down to my train. I was never a fan of lace, but right now, standing in this dress, I’m a huge fan. A clicking sound comes from behind me and I turn to see Juls taking a picture of me with her phone. “What the hell?”
“Oh, relax. I won’t send it to any sexy CPAs or anything. It’s just for us.” I can’t imagine what would happen if Reese got a hold of that picture. He’d probably freak the fuck out and end things for sure. Talk about being clingy. “Seriously, Dylan, look at us.” Juls hops up onto my pedestal and grabs my hand, linking it with hers. Besides the fact that we are both standing in wedding gowns, humorously, we’re complete opposites in appearance. Juls with her dark brown, straight hair and me with my uber blonde, naturally wavy mess, her piercing blue eyes contrast with my wide brown ones that seem to take up the majority of my face, and she’s a good three inches taller than me as I stand up on my toes to bring me up to her five foot nine height. “Goof. I’m getting married, Dyl.”
“You are and I’m not, so I’m getting the fuck out of this thing.” She giggles as I hop down and slip back into my dressing room. But before I take it off, I admire myself alone for a brief moment. I’ve never given much thought to getting married. Having only been in one serious relationship, Justin never appealed to me as the marrying kind, which now seems ironic since he is married. Just not happily, or faithfully. But standing in this dress right now, for the first time in my life, I can picture myself walking down the aisle toward the one person I want to spend my life with. And before I can put a face to that one person, I slip out of the dress and back into reality.
After saying goodbye to Juls and her sister, I spend the rest of the day keeping myself busy with a massive amount of baking. Seven dozen muffins, six batches of cookies, and an assortment of pastries later, I finally slip upstairs and crash, passing out immediately.
I wake up cranky and miserable on Sunday morning, having experienced one of the shittiest nights of sleep I’ve ever had. I tossed and turned all night, my usual dreams of Reese and I together replaced with him and a string of women with red hair who he’s fucking relentlessly. I wake up constantly, drenched in sweat and when I pass back out, another redhead replaces the previous one. I chalk it up to the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from him since Friday afternoon and I’m in desperate need of my fix. But he hasn’t called me or texted and I have no fucking clue how to interpret that. Coming from a man who pursued the shit out of me, sending me sweet notes and packages, and texting me daily. And now, nothing. Panic runs through me that I’ve actually royally fucked this up by telling him I needed time to think. But time to think doesn’t mean leave me alone. It just means what it means. That I’ve been thinking, which I have, and I’m done.
I’ve decided I’m done being pissy over the photos I received Friday because it’s not doing me any good. It wasn’t his fault and knowing him, I’m sure he’s dealt with that spiteful bitch to prevent any future deliveries from her. I have no right to be mad or jealous about his previous hook ups, especially since we’re not serious. And I’ve also decided I’m okay with that. This is what Reese wants, the only thing he does, and I’m having fun doing it with him. I refuse to let my emotions screw this up because this, what we’re doing, is the best thing I’ve ever done with a man. He’s sweet and fun and hot as hell. And he chose me. Of all the girls lining up, he chose me. What we’re doing is enough for him and it can be enough for me. I don’t need to be in a serious relationship to be happy; I’ve never been this happy before in my life. The sound of my phone ringing sends me sprinting up the stairs where I plugged it in before I decided to organize my pantry. Disappointment runs through me as Juls’ names flashes across my screen.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Can you meet me, like right now, sweets? I really need to talk to someone and I want it to be you.” She sounds upset. Juls never sounds upset.
“Yeah, of course. Where?”
“The coffee shop on West Elm okay? I’m only five minutes away.”
“Okay, I’m leaving now.”
I hang up and dress quickly, grabbing my keys and locking up behind me as I dash around the corner where I keep Sam parked. Juls’ voice is really worrying me and I want to get to her as fast as I can. She’s never upset. Her two favorite emotions are elated happiness, which is frequent lately after Ian came into her life, and pissed off hurricane Juls mode. The drive to Brocks Coffee Shop is a short distant from the bakery and I park behind her black Escalade, hopping out quickly and dashing into the building. I spot her at a table in the corner, her dainty hands wrapped around a coffee cup.
“Hey. Sorry if you’ve been waiting long. Fucking traffic.”
“No, I just sat down. Do you want something to drink?” Typical Juls, always concerned about other people and not what’s bothering her. God, love her for it.
“No, I’m fine. What’s wrong? You sounded upset on the phone.”
She glances down into her mug. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ian and I went out yesterday after I dropped you off and checked out some wedding venues and reception halls, and I just didn’t care. Like at all. I mean, what the fuck? I’ve been dreaming about my wedding day since I was six.” Her eyes fill up with tears as she turns them up to me. I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “I love weddings, everything about them. That’s why I became a wedding planner. But when it comes to my own wedding, it’s like I have zero opinion about anything. I don’t care whether or not we get married in a church or if it’s an outdoor ceremony. I don’t care what music I walk down the aisle to or what favors the guests will receive or what my cake looks like, no offense.”
My lips curl up into a smile. “None taken.”
“I don’t even care who the hell is invited. All I care about is marrying him. As long as Ian’s there, that’s all I care about.” She blinks and her tears fall down her cheek. “Dylan, honestly, do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
I laugh softly and shake my head. “No, not at all. I think you’re focusing on the only thing that matters. Who cares about everything else?” My hand squeezes hers and she smiles. “I kind of love how marrying Ian is the only thing that matters to you, because it’s the only thing that should matter. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with this man who clearly worships the ground your pretty little feet walk on, so who gives a shit what the fucking centerpieces look like or what the dinner options are for the guests. Fuck the guests.” She bursts out laughing and shakes her head at me and most likely herself for thinking this way. Although, I am a little shocked she doesn’t have a few things she’s dead set on.
“I love you, Dylan. You really are the only person who understands me.”
Leaning back, I cross my legs under the table. “Well, and Ian, I’m sure. So what does he say about all this?”
She takes a quick sip of her coffee. “He keeps saying ‘whatever you want, babe,’ which would be perfect if I had any opinions at all. I kind of wish he would just take over and make all the decisions, because if he leaves it up to me, nothing’s going to get done. Except my dress choice, of course.”
“Of course, and what a dress. Does that thing even need to be altered, because it fit you perfectly?”
“Hmmm, so did yours, both of them.” She pulls out her phone and swipes the screen a few times before handing it over.
I glance down at the picture of me staring at my reflection in the lace halter dress. Jesus, it looks good. “I should make you delete this in front of me.” I hand her back her phone.
“Not a chance in hell.” She slips it back away, quickly so I don’t grab it and delete it myself, I’m sure. “What’s new with Reese? You heard from him since the picture incident?”
My stomach knots up and I sigh loudly, rubbing my hands down my face. “No, not a peep. But I guess the distance is good right now. We really shouldn’t be attached at the hip.”
“Dylan.”
I glance up at her serious face. “Julianna.” I never call her by her full name and can barely say it without smiling.
She rolls her eyes. “Are you in love with him?”
I lean my elbows onto the table and cover my face with my hands. After a slow exhale, I reply honestly, “I don’t know. I feel like I’m putting a lot of energy into not falling in love with him, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” I glance over at her. “For a guy who normally doesn’t do the relationship thing, I think he’d be damn good at it. But how stupid would I be to fall in love with someone who doesn’t do anything serious? I’d just be setting myself up for a major heartbreak, right?” I begin to rub my temples as she fights a smile. “I’ve never loved any man before. Definitely not Justin. But with Reese? Fuck, I don’t know.”
She leans forward and rubs my arm. “Just because he’s never done relationships before or anything besides casual fucking, doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of doing it. Dylan, for Christ’s sake. The man is crazy about you. Everyone can see that.”
“He’s crazy about fucking me.” I glance around quickly to make sure my heightened voice didn’t draw any unwanted attention. “That’s all this is.”
“You’re really fucking stupid if you think that’s true. Just grow a pair and tell him how you feel already.”
I shake my head at her and purse my lips as she sips her coffee. Of course Juls doesn’t understand where I’m coming from here. She and Ian have been more than serious since they started dating. A thought that’s been running through my mind since Friday comes streaming back. Why did Reese end it with that red headed pyscho? Was it because she wanted more, that she was in love with him and he didn’t or couldn’t feel the same way? I can’t help but think the same fate is lined up for me if I were to let myself fall, so I won’t. I’m going to keep those unwanted feelings buried deep inside me for now, until maybe he eventually decides he wants more. Please, God, let him want more.
I crawl into bed Sunday night after getting a bite to eat with Juls. We both wanted more than just coffee in our system and ate at a local Thai place that we frequent often. I wrap myself up in my comforter and the University of Chicago T-shirt that Reese lent me and stare at my alarm clock. It’s only a little after eight p.m., and I know I won’t pass out anytime soon, but I’m at least going to try. Closing my eyes, I picture his face, the face I catch him having when he’s watching me, studying me. Crease in his brow, jaw set, eyes narrowed in on whatever it is I’m doing. Always so studious.
A loud, deafening crash sends them flying back open. What the hell was that? I shoot out of bed and dash down the stairs, skidding to a stop behind my worktop when I see a hooded figure standing outside my now shattered glass store front through the doorway. “Oh, shit.” Panic, sheer panic runs through me and I dash back upstairs, grab my phone off my nightstand, and begin dialing the only person I can think of.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I dart into my bathroom and close and lock the door behind me. Jesus Christ! Someone’s broken into my bakery! Who the fuck breaks into a bakery? After three long rings, I hear his voice.
“Dylan?”
“Reese! Someone’s in my shop! I heard a loud crash and ran downstairs and—”
“Where are you? Are you safe?” His voice is filled with worry and I can tell he’s on the move. Oh, God, please be at your place and not far from me.
“I’m in my bathroom. They broke the window and I saw someone.” I hear commotion, a lot of commotion through the phone as I crawl into my bathtub and close the shower curtain. Like that’s going to do any good if they decide to break into the bathroom. This is so horror movie cliché; I almost roll my eyes at myself. “Please, I need you,” I cry, dropping my head between my knees and letting myself sob.
“Stay in there. Don’t come out no matter what you hear. GODDAMN IT. SHIT.” Echoes of footsteps ring through the phone and he’s out of breath, but his curse words keep flying. “I’m on my way. Call the police.”
“NO. Please don’t make me hang up.” I’m crying, shaking with fear and my words are broken and strained. I hear the sound of a car starting.
“Fuck. Move the fuck out of the way!” Car horns and another string of cuss words come through the phone as I clutch it tightly. “Love, you have to call the police. I’m almost there. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. Just hang up and call them and then call me back, okay?”
“Okay, okay. Please hurry.”
“I am.”
I quickly hang up and dial 911, rapidly telling them the situation and giving them my location. They tell me the police are on their way and to stay where I am. That’s not going to be a problem. I have zero intention of moving from this spot until I hear Reese on the other side of the door, even though I haven’t heard a noise coming from below me since the sound of the window breaking. I hang up and dial him again.
“I’m here. Don’t open the door until I get up there, okay?”
“Okay, but stay on the phone with me.” I hear his heavy breathing and the sound of glass crunching and cracking. God, please don’t let that person still be here. If I hear Reese getting into a struggle with someone, there’s no way in hell I’m staying in this bathroom. I don’t care what the consequences are. I will claw the fucker’s eyes out if he puts his hands on Reese. I hear footsteps outside the door and hold my breath.
“Dylan?”
I drop my phone and crawl out of the tub, scrambling for the lock and swinging the door open. I don’t even register his appearance before I jump into his arms and cling to him. “Oh, my God, I was so scared.” I’m holding onto him like I haven’t seen him in years, my body completely glued to his. “Is he still here?”
His arms wrap me up and he breathes into my hair, his chest heaving against mine. “Dylan.” I moan softly at the sound of my name. “It’s okay; I’ve got you. I didn’t see anyone, but your front window is completely smashed to shit.” He carries me away from the bathroom and into my bedroom area.
I’m shaking against his body and tighten my grip. “Jesus Christ. Why would someone break into my bakery? Do you think they wanted treats?” I hear a small muffled laugh escape his lips, which are pressed into my hair. My tears are streaming down my face as he places me on my feet in front of my dresser. I look him over and take in his appearance. Hair a right mess, no doubt from the rough treatment of his hands as he drove over here, clenched jaw, and prominent crease in his brow. His green eyes are burning into mine, and even though they’re filled with worry, they still carry the same intensity as always.
“Here, you need to put on pants before the police get here. They’re going to want to ask you questions.” He starts rifling through my drawers and I see him taking out several pairs of pants, tops, and panties.
“Umm, do I need to put on layers?” I wipe underneath my eyes and finally stop my tears. Now that Reese is here, I’m no longer scared, and the only emotion running through me right now is elated joy from the sheer sight of him.
“No, but you’re not staying here tonight, so you need to pack some clothes. I’m taking you home with me.” He glances over at me as he closes my drawers.
“Okay,” I reply, picking up a pair of jeans and sliding them up my legs.
“Really? You’re not going to try and tell me you could just stay at Juls’ house, or how you’re not breaking the ‘no sleepover’ rule again? You’re just going to say okay?” He looks utterly shocked and I almost laugh. Jesus, am I that defiant?
“Yes, I’m not always so argumentative.” The sound of police sirens flow up the stairs and I quickly grab a bra and put it on, keeping his T-shirt on in the process.
He notices it and smiles a bit as he places my things in a nearby duffle bag. “Do you need anything else?”
I take a quick look around the room. “Umm, I guess just my bathroom stuff.” I scurry in there and grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, face wash, moisturizer, phone off the shower floor, and conditioner because I’m more than happy to use his shampoo and body wash. Spinning, I see him standing in the doorway. He’s studying me, eyes narrowed in on the collection in my hands. “What? I’m a girl and I can’t take another shower at your place without conditioner. We can’t all have gorgeous, no-product-necessary hair like you.” His lips curl up as I drop the goodies into my duffle and follow him down the stairs.
After talking to the police and giving them my very vague description of the hooded figure standing outside my shop, they ask me if I know of anyone who might possibly want to hurt my business or me personally. My eyes quickly flick to Reese who clenches his jaw before giving them his ex-receptionist name and information. He tells them about the package I received and claims she became unstable after he stopped seeing her. I had assumed the figure I saw standing outside was a man because of the dark hoodie covering their face, but I guess it could have just as easily been a woman. I’m assured my insurance will cover the damage, which luckily is only to one of my windows. No damage was done to the inside of the shop, which I am extremely grateful for. The police found a brick that was used to break the glass, which had slid underneath my consultation table, and are going to dust it for prints. I will only have to remain closed for one day for the window to get repaired, so that isn’t too bad. It could have been a lot worse. Way worse.
As we drive in silence to his building, the night I just endured is the last thing on my mind. Right now, with my duffle bag packed full of clothes sitting behind me in the back seat, the only thing on my mind is how I’ll be having another sleepover with Reese. And I can’t help but tense in my seat at the anticipation of it.