Bite & Release Page 7

  I laughed. “We really aren’t conversationalists, are we?” I said, as I heard Shea snickering.

  “I think we normally have more important things on the agenda besides talking.” Shea paused. “You’re not coming to dinner, are you?”

  “I’m sorry, but no,” I replied. Now it was my turn to pause “I don’t think it would be a very good idea.”

  “Okay . . . I guess. I’ll pick you up next Friday for work?” he asked blandly.

  “I actually . . . well . . . Candy is picking me up.” I could sense Shea’s anger without him saying anything.

  “Whatever you feel is best, Ryan. You will be at the wedding?” I could hear the disappointment in his voice as he hung up. He never even gave me a chance to respond. I hadn’t even slept with him and he was already pissed at me. This was why it wasn’t a good idea to pursue anything with Shea.

  Now I felt despondent, and with all I had going on I didn’t need this, but in the back of my mind I felt that maybe I deserved this. I spent the rest of the week cleaning the house, scrubbing walls and baseboards, and doing general maintenance on the house. In four days, Trina and Quinn were getting married. Sure, the event was a cause to celebrate, but I was having a hard time being overjoyed, worried about how I was going to get through an entire day with Shea pissed at me. Normally I would just get intoxicated, but I knew myself pretty well, and judging from past history, my mouth could get very loose. The last thing I wanted to do at Trina and Quinn’s wedding was to humiliate myself and ruin their day.

  On Thursday, Trina showed up, crying and breathless.

  “What the hell, Trina, what is it?” I asked anxiously.

  I swear to God himself if Quinn got cold feet, he had better leave the state, or the fucking planet.

  “Alice, my maid of honor, is in the hospital,” Trina cried as she flopped down on my sofa. “She has appendicitis.” I sat beside Trina, patting her hand, trying to console her.

  “What can I do?” I asked. Trina looks at me, sniffling, and then smiled.

  Uh-oh, this is not good—I think I see smoke coming from Trina’s head.

  “I need you to be my maid of honor,” she said as she sniffed loudly. I was too stunned at first to say anything, and then somehow found my voice.

  “Absolutely not, no way in hell.” I paused, glaring at her, thinking she did this on purpose. “You know how much I hate shit like that. I love you but don’t ask me to do that . . . God, no,” I was pleading.

  “You have to, there’s no one else, and it’s too late to find someone else anyway . . . maybe it was meant to be,” Trina replied, looking at me with desperate eyes.

  “You did this on purpose,” I said as I examined her. “Besides, I’m married, so I can’t be a maid of honor.”

  “Yeah, right, I gave appendicitis to my friend just so I could have you be my maid of honor.” Trina glared at me, “I’m getting you a dress tonight, okay? Alice is a size twelve, so her dress won’t fit you, and no one knows you’re married, so who cares?” she retorted. I just stared at her, nodding.

  “I’m just getting you a cocktail dress that will sort of match the other dresses.” Trina inhaled a breath. “You’re the maid of honor, so you don’t have to look like the bridesmaids.” Trina looked at me, now giddy. I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. I was going to be a maid of honor.

  How so not fitting, since I am no maid, and I definitely have no honor.

  Chapter TWELVE

  Trina came over the following night after I got home from work. She had spent the entire day having a mani-pedi and spa treatments, and she looked radiant. The dress she purchased for me was very elegant—all silver except for some black accents, floor length, and strapless. She even bought me killer stilettos and a strapless bra. I’m sure it was her way of making up for the fact that she basically brow beat me into being her maid of honor.

  “You know I’m spending the night, right?” Trina says, tossing a large carry all on the sofa.

  “Uh, no,” I replied, slightly confused.

  “I don’t want to sleep at home with Quinn. I want to make our wedding night special.”

  “A-ha,” I quip. “How is one night of not doing it going to make tomorrow night special?” I laughed. Trina chuckled as she ignored me.

  “Oh, we’ll have so much fun—since I didn’t have a bachelorette party, this can be our girl’s night. Besides, I need to do your nails and you need a facial,” Trina said, dragging her bag to the bathroom. I could hear her unloading tons of stuff. I walked over to the bathroom and leaned into the doorway.

  “I think nails and a facial is pushing it. What’s wrong with my face and my nails?” I frowned, looking at my nails. Between the flowerbeds and the intense house cleaning, they were actually quite a mess.

  “Your nails look like shit,” Trina said, scowling.

  “Whoa there, okay, maybe my nails, but are you telling me this face is not flawless?” I gave her the “model pose” as I dipped my face close to hers.

  “Oh God, no, you’re a goddess.” Trina deadpanned, shoving me out of her personal space.

  “Well that’s better,” I said, with a satisfied look.

  “Yeah, but you’re a goddess with very large pores,” Trina countered good-naturedly, handing me a tube of mud mask. I looked at my face in the mirror, which still looked fine to me, although I did look a little bit tired and maybe a little rough around the edges. Oh, what the hell, I uncapped the tube of mud mask and start applying the black, cold, and moist goop. About thirty minutes later my face felt like it was about to crack. I couldn’t see or feel my pores, big or otherwise. Once I was clean-faced and small-pored, Trina began cleaning, filing and painting my nails.

  “I’ll be getting up really early to meet my mom for breakfast, and then head over to the church,” Trina spoke as she finished my nails with a topcoat. “I’ll just sleep on the sofa . . . it’s pretty comfortable.” I looked at Trina for a minute, trying to figure out how she knew my sofa was comfortable. I guess she saw the look of confusion on my face.

  “When my dad got really bad, your dad would let Andrew and me spend the night here. Your dad was great, and he was very cool about it. We’d watch movies and eat popcorn,” Trina said, suddenly very quiet.

  “Why didn’t you just sleep in my room or the guest room?” I asked. I was mentally confused, picturing my dad putting in a movie for the neighbor’s kids and feeding them popcorn. This was so not my dad.

  “Your dad never offered anything but the sofa, and Andrew always brought a sleeping bag. Honestly we were just happy to have somewhere else to go to, so the sleeping arrangements were not an issue.” Trina paused, finishing my nails. “I kind of got the feeling that your room was your room and basically off limits to anyone but you.” Trina stood up as she sealed the top coat.

  So my dad had basically saved the neighbor’s kids when their father was being a drunken tyrant. How so not like my dad. Maybe my leaving had changed him.

  “Your nails will be dry in about fifteen minutes. Don’t do anything or they’ll smudge.” Trina grabbed her pajamas and proceeded to the bathroom. I just sat there, waving my hands in the air like some idiot trying to get my nails to dry faster. It was only eight o’clock but I was tired. All this primping and prodding had clearly worn me out. Between coming home, escaping my insane husband, seeing Shea, and participating in Trina’s wedding, I felt physically and mentally exhausted. Trina walked back into the room with Hello Kitty flannel pajamas and I stifled a laugh.

  “Damn, I hope you bought something sexier for tomorrow night,” I said, rolling my eyes up as I scanned her from head to toe.

  “Of course! Nothing but the best and naughtiest for my Quinn,” Trina replied coyly, as I pointed to the linens for the sofa. I had the sudden urge to put my finger in my mouth and pretend gag at that comment, but my stupid nails weren’t dry yet. Once they finally dried and Trina was settled in on the sofa, I went to bed. Tomorrow would be nerve racking to say the least. I’d neve
r been in a wedding—hell, Garrison and I got married at the Justice of the Peace. On top of this entire maid of honor crap, I would have to face Shea, which was something I really wasn’t looking forward to. There was a part of me that anticipated seeing him and another larger part that was terrified.

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  Trina’s wedding day was cloudy and cold, which pretty much mirrored my mood. I think I’d rather have dental work without Novocain than have to wear that maid of honor’s dress, as elegant as it was. I dragged myself from my bed to the shower. I washed my hair and shaved—almost everything. I was in a foul mood. I really had to buck up today for Trina and Quinn’s special day. It was only one day.

  I spent an hour doing my hair and makeup. I was supposed to be at the church at 2:00 p.m. As I slipped on the very skimpy silver and black dress, I was wondering how it was going to look with a parka over it. It was freezing outside, and even after all these years later I could still recognize the smell of snow on the horizon. I shoved makeup, q-tips and safety pins into my overnight bag, along with hairspray and brushes. I wanted to be prepared—for anything.

  I arrived at the church on time. I was so damn cold. Two o’clock in the afternoon and I was wearing a strapless dress and I could see my breath. Ugh! Once inside, the church was nice, warm and toasty. I shrugged off my oversized coat and went to look for Trina. I stood at the one of the chamber’s open doors and just observed while Trina’s mom was putting up Trina’s hair in a French twist. She looked stunning.

  “Hey, one maid of honor here, willing and waiting,” I said cheerfully as I walked in.

  “Oh, Ryan, you look lovely,” Evie exclaimed, and Trina nodded her head in agreement. I tossed my overnight bag on the floor.

  “I brought stuff just in case,” I said to Trina, who looked almost ethereal. I stood behind Trina and watched her in the mirror. “You look amazing, really.” She smiled, her face glowing with happiness. Grinning at her infectious mood, I touched up my makeup and ran a brush through my hair. I had planned to curl it, but because of the weather, I had quite a few natural waves going on.

  Evie handed a small box to Trina and an identical one to me. We both opened them at the same time. Inside were stunning square cut diamond studs. As Evie stood next to Trina and me, I could smell the slight aroma of alcohol mixed with breath mints. I supposed Evie wanted to celebrate early, or maybe giving away her only daughter was too much to handle. With the way I was currently feeling, I almost felt like asking Evie to share.

  I gasped, staring at the sparkling twin jewels in my hand. “Evie, really, this is too much. I can’t accept these!” I looked over at Trina’s mom.

  “I wanted you two girls to have something together, something to mark this special day. You two have been friends forever; I wanted you two to remember that friendship is forever.” Evie looked at both of us, tears brimming in her eyes. Damn, if she cried, I’d cry.

  Somehow, Trina’s mom held it together as she watched both Trina and me put on our gorgeous earrings. Once we got the veil on Trina, I felt like crying right then and there. She really looked beautiful, and Quinn was definitely a lucky man. In my heart, I knew this relationship was built on love, so the marriage would have a sturdy foundation. We moved out of the room and towards the front of the church. Evie would be walking Trina down the aisle. I peeked in the room to look around before I had to start walking. I could see Quinn at the front with the minister and . . . oh no, Shea? Shea was Quinn’s best man? What the hell? I turned around and glared at Trina, hoping she could see me through her damn veil.

  “I can’t fucking believe you did this,” I hissed, elbowing her.

  “Ow . . . I did not,” she hissed back, trying to push me away.

  “Bullshit . . . you’re going to stand there and tell me you didn’t know Shea was Quinn’s best man?” I said accusingly, keeping my voice quiet so Trina’s mom wouldn’t overhear.

  “Just deal with it,” Trina replied, turning her head. I was not able to see through her veil that way, but I was positive that bitch was smirking.

  “Quit trying to set me up with your fucking baby brother,” I spit out.

  “Whatever, start walking,” Trina said as she pushed me forward. The damn wedding march was playing, and I was now in wedding hell. I tried to keep my eyes lowered but found myself sneaking a peek in Shea’s direction.

  He had a startled look on his face. Apparently, he had no idea that I was the maid of honor. The closer I got to the front and to him, the more my legs began to shake. I was lucky this dress was long or everyone would be able to see my knees knocking. I finally reached the front and positioned myself off to the left, taking notice of where Shea was in distance from Quinn.

  Shea looked so handsome dressed in his black tux with a silver cummerbund and a silver bow tie. He stole my breath with the way he looked, so dark and dangerously masculine. My sex clenched as my body hummed, making me damp with want. I tried to look away but I was drawn to him. He looked unhappy, maybe even defeated. I had done that—I had caused him to feel that way.

  Once Trina aligned herself next to Quinn, she handed me her bouquet, as I stood in front of the other four bridesmaids. I had initially planned to just stand there and try phasing everything out; maybe if I thought of something else, the ceremony would go faster and I could quit sulking over what I did to Shea. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me. I started to perspire, damn him, and my eyes casually drifted towards him, as if some greater force compelled them.

  My insides churned with need and then conflict. I was attracted to him and that was all kinds of wrong on so many levels. Any logic I knew I had was being pushed out my carnal wants. I shouldn’t want him, but no matter how much I pretended denial, the reality was that he was all I thought about. Why couldn’t he just want to fuck me? There, I’d said it, in my head, not out loud in the church. I knew that Shea would never fuck me, oh hell no—he would want to make love to me and live happily ever after. I almost let out a groan of frustration before I remembered I was in a church. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this in a church . . . I really am going to hell.

  Twenty minutes later, the minister announced that Quinn and Trina were husband and wife and introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Quinn James. After having tons of pictures taken in every pose possible, including five with just Shea and me, which were not only uncomfortable but stressful, I was ready to jump out a window. Too bad the church only had one story.

  Shea said nothing to me—not one word. The silence between us was thick with discord. I did my best to play it off because I wouldn’t have anything ruining Trina’s day. He smiled lovingly when he posed for pictures with Trina, and it was obvious to anyone and everyone that they adored each other. I laughed to myself remembering how much they detested each other growing up. He had really driven her crazy when she was a teen, but Shea had pretty much been a handful to everyone . . . except me . . . until he realized I was leaving.

  After the mandatory photographs, it took me another thirty minutes to help Trina get out of her ten-pound wedding dress and into a stunning evening dress for the fancy reception. I touched up my makeup and straightened my dress, as well as tried to keep my boobs from popping out. I truly wished I had brought another dress to change into as well.

  We headed out to the reception that was being held at a nearby hotel. It was really luxurious and ritzy, and the ballroom was set up to perfection. Everything was black, white and silver. Everyone had designated seating, including Shea and me, who had the distinct honor of sitting with the bride and groom. This was going to be a very long night. I’m pretty sure Trina knew how unhappy I really was sitting across from Shea; frankly, he didn’t seem all that pleased either. I just shrugged it off and pretended to be happy for my best friend. Once dinner was done, there were lots of toasts and congratulations, as well as dancing. Quinn’s parents had hired the band, which played everything from the fifties to the present, and I watched as Trina and Quinn dance
d to almost every song. I stared at them in envy, seeing their loving embraces and watching them whisper to each other.

  “Will you dance with me?” Shea asked, clearing his throat, his hand stretched out to me. I couldn’t find the will to speak, so I took his hand without saying a word. He led me out to the dance floor, and his hands felt warm as they went around my waist. The band began to play “My Funny Valentine,” which they had updated into a modern sound. It was one of my favorite songs.

  Shea pulled me into him and I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders, pressing my cheek into his chest. I could hear his heart beating and felt the air expanding his lungs as I closed my eyes, getting lost in the song. I danced with my eyes closed the entire time, because I knew if I opened them and looked up at him, it would end me. I felt so weak being this close to him.

  I had no will to fight him off anymore—to hell with the consequences. I didn’t care anymore. I just knew that I wanted him.

  The song ended, but he stood there, holding me. I opened my eyes and I saw Trina looking at me, her expression unsettled. I smiled weakly, letting her know that everything was alright and for her not to worry.

  “Thank you for dancing with me,” Shea said quietly, leading me off the dance floor. I still couldn’t look at him and I stayed silent. I was so afraid that anything I said, or any look I gave, would have betrayed my feelings. My heart was telling me what to do; unfortunately, my brain was a big-ass obstacle in my way. As I sat down, Shea let out a frustrated sigh as he bent down to my ear.

  “I’m leaving, Ryan. I can’t take it . . . I surrender. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re not interested and never will be.” He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair.

  “I’m laying down the torch I’ve carried for thirteen years. I actually dreamed about this moment for years, and I honestly thought that if you saw what I had become you might want me, but I can’t force you. I can’t make this happen, regardless of how much I want it to. I hoped that you would want me, but it’s obvious you don’t,” he said, his voice sounding muffled as he moved away. No matter how wrong I knew it was, there was no denying that I was enamored with Shea, and he sexually aroused me like no one ever had. I bit back a sob because I really wanted to stop him and shout “I do want you,” but looking around, all I saw were judges, and if I made a move on Shea, these people would hang me right here. I felt ashamed and hopeless. I had ruined everything.