Page 56 of The Trolley Kiss
He raises his eyebrows. “Really? Because there’d be at least four to five family drama explosions if I was setting up a wedding with my family.”
I give a small laugh before smiling down at my lap. I know he’s only saying that to make me feel better. And, honestly, he did.
“Thank you for coming.”
He squeezes my hand. “Of course. You thought it was the free alcohol, but I really came because I know when you’re drunk, you like to get frisky on the dance floor, and I’ll be damned if I let some other fucker fill that role.”
I swat at his arm. “Shut the fuck up,” I giggle. “You arenotgetting lucky tonight.”
“Of course not,” he says all serious, but he can’t hold back his smile for long. “But if you want to find a quick place to sneak away while you’re still sober, I’m one hundred percent on board.” His eyes roll back in his head like he’s fantasizing about it.
The wedding music starts before I can respond to him, and we both look back at the groom beginning to walk the mothers to their seats.
“I think it’s starting,” I whisper to him, and we both turn in our seats to see.
The bridesmaids walk down the aisle with a small bouquet of flowers in hand, followed by the ring bearer and flower girl, both of which are from the groom’s side, so I don’t know them. The music changes to a softer, more romantic song, and we all stand in anticipation of the bride.
The double doors get pulled open, revealing my cousin in her ballgown wedding dress and a huge smile on her face. A wave of emotion hits me like a punch to the gut. I ball my hands into fists to steady myself, but it’s too late. I can already feel the tears pricking my eyes.
I look down and blink a few times to try to clear it. People cry at weddings. It’s no big deal. No one will notice.
I try to plaster a smile on my face to make it seem like I’m just happy for the bride and groom, and I am. Really, I am. It’s just… it’s this feeling of despair in my stomach. I can’t shake it.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
There’s no hope. There’s no fantasy. There’s no magic to it anymore.
And that’s what hurts the most. It’s the fact that if I could ever go back to the little girl I was with all these dreams of the life I was going to have, I’d have to tell her it doesn’t get better. It doesn’t ever get better. Nobody is ever coming to save her.
I’d have to tell her that all those hopes and dreams were for nothing. I’d have to tell her that this is her life, and the sooner she accepts that, the less heartache she’d have to endure. I’d have to tell her that I’ve given so much of myself away that I lost her. That I’ll never be able to get her back.
At the same time that I wipe a stray tear that slipped out, Declan presses his hand against my lower back. I lean back against it, and he moves closer like he could sense I needed him to steady me. To let me know I’m not alone.
Luckily, the ceremony is short and sweet, and we are able to get to the open bar sooner than I was expecting. I’m already on my fourth cocktail by the time dinner is over, but it’s not like they make the drinks very strong, which is why I’ve switched over to wine.
Declan always jumps in with some charming joke to change the subject every time I start making snarky comments to my mother, which are happening more and more frequently now that the alcohol is kicking in. My mom doesn’t drink, so her judgy looks are in full effect. I really don’t know what I’d do without Declan here. He’s being absolutely perfect. I need to thank him somehow.
“Another drink?” I ask him, nodding at his empty glass.
“Sure.”
I lean against the bar and wait for the bartender. Declan steps up behind me, placing his hand on my lower back. He leans down, inhaling along my shoulder and up my neck. “You are so fucking sexy tonight.”
Fuck.I swallow roughly, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. The alcohol must be starting to hit Declan as well. He’s not going to make this easy.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks as he steps our way.
“Two of the groom’s pick shots, please,” Declan orders without even asking me what I want.
“Shots?”
He glances back at me. “Yeah, I need your hands free.”
“What?” I giggle.
The bartender sets the two shots in front of us, and Declan hands me mine without answering the question.
“Cheers.”