Page 121 of The Fast Lane
Note to self:
Weaponizing cheesecake may be one of my greatest ideas yet.
Saturday, one day before the wedding
“Everything hurts.” Melanie pulled down her sunglasses a tiny bit. “I feel like roadkill that was resuscitated and then run over again for fun.”
I felt a twinge of guilt. Had I kept refilling Melanie’s glass of beer every time she got up to play darts or pool? Yes, yes, I had. But if there had ever been a bride-to-be in history who needed to relax, it was her. My plan worked. Maybe a little too well. I had no idea Drunk Melanie knew all the words to “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”
And she liked singing it while dancing on tables.
Let’s just say some of us weren’t allowed back at that sports bar.
“Melanie, take those sunglasses off. You’re inside.” Sonya glared down the table at her daughter. They’d not been happy to hear of our escapades last night.
As if they knew the half of it. I hadn’t had anything to drink so when the police were almost called after Cal, Frankie, and Abe tried to play blind darts and narrowly missed nailing a guy in the head thereby resulting in a pissed-off guy who wanted to throw more than darts back at them (all of which my brothers found hilarious), it was me who got them out of trouble.
Yeah, we probably shouldn’t even walk by that bar ever again.
But as it was the day after, the consequences for all that fun were front and center. Melanie was not the only one wearing sunglasses inside.
Melanie’s father stood and tapped on a glass to get everyone’s attention. “My wife and I invited you all to this brunch to thank you for your friendship, for traveling many miles to come to the wedding, and for your love and support for Melanie and Calvin.”
Melanie pushed around the scrambled eggs on her plate. “I can’t eat this. My stomach feels like a washing machine stuck on the spin cycle.”
I patted her shoulder. She winced and pulled away.
“The tattoo?”
She shushed me. “Not too loud. I don’t want my mom to know.” She leaned closer. “Why did you let me get a tattoo?”
I smirked. “Because it took me almost an hour to talk you out of the eyebrow piercing.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Oh, good grief.”
“You were pretty set on it. Something about how eyebrow piercings were exotic.”
She’d argued for that piercing with the same passion most people reserved for politics, religion and pizza toppings. When trying to rationalize with her hadn’t worked, I’d finally resorted to showing her photos of what happened if that piercing were to get infected. She’d only let her disappointment get her down for about fourteen seconds before she’d moved on to her new passion: a tattoo.
Melanie groaned. “I’m never drinking again.”
“You never were good at holding your liquor,” Alec said from across the table.
Unfortunately, there was assigned seating at this gig. Theo and I were seated at different tables, while Alec and I were not. I was determined to not let him get under my skin, especially after yesterday. Strangely, I didn’t feel angry when I thought of him now. Just pity and sadness we’d wasted so much time on a relationship that wasn’t meant to be.
“Shut up, Alec,” Melanie muttered. “I don’t want a lecture right now.”
“I wasn’t going to lecture you. I was going to say I hoped you learned your lesson.”
“My head hurts too much to deal with you right now.” Melanie stood, grabbed her glass of water, and wandered over to Cal’s table. My brother’s smile when she came close was bright enough to light a stadium. He pulled her onto his lap, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Maybe Melanie was right, and they were the whole reason Alec and I had ever dated, so Cal and Melanie could find each other.
“They’re a good couple, aren’t they?” Alec said.
He’d moved to the seat Melanie had vacated. Be an adult, Ramos.
“They are.”