Tommy Sallow is onto better and brighter things. After working a small hometown beat in upstate New York, he's finally in sunny California. As expected, it's the same shit in a different town. Except, you know, now he's near the ocean and miserable...
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Man, I love weddings.
The excitement all around, the love in the air. Dancing and cake and those delicious potatoes.
The women in beautiful gowns.
Let me reiterate. Just these two women. The hot girl that rocks my world and the tiny princess in snowflake shoes, both crowding the bathroom mirror at the moment while I stand in the doorway admiring them.
Mia squeals in delight as Amber gives her curls one last spritz of hairspray. She jumps down from the little step stool, her shoes making a click-clacking sound when she lands, and turns to me. "What do you think of my hair?"
"Looks perfect, kid," I tell her. "Now do a spin. Let's see the final look."
Mia does a twirl, keeping a close eye on the skirt of her pretty flower girl dress as it flares out before she glances up at me with an explosive smile. She loves this dress.
I give her a thumbs up. "Like I said, perfect."
Amber looks over her shoulder with a smile. "I agree. You look beautiful," she says, her eyes all sparkling with happiness. "Now go get your backpack and make sure your extra outfit is in there. And grab a snack before we go."
"And some sneakers," I add quickly. "Never know if you're gonna need to make a run for it."
With an amused shake of her head, Amber rolls her eyes and Mia skips off laughing. My eyes, on the other hand, zip straight back to the mirror. To the hot girl whose dress is sliding off her shoulder at the moment.
You wanna talk about beautiful? Just fucking bury me because Amber is killing me slowly in this floor length gown, a silky green number with a slit straight up to her thigh, hugging her in all the right places. I want to grab her, run my hands all over her body, but I know well enough after being raised with sisters that you have to tread carefully around women before they've applied the hairspray. So instead, I just run my eyes over her like a damn predator.
"This dress is not cooperating at the top," she mutters, irritated, as she adjusts the material on her shoulder and turns around to face me with a frown.
"Looks good to me." More than good. She's looks fucking edible.
Come here, woman. I'm hungry.
Amber throws her hands on her hips with a boatload of sass and her eyebrows scrunch together. "Tommy," she whines. "My left boob is practically falling out of this dress."
"Is it?" Was hoping you hadn't noticed. I wander over to her, ready to "help" in any way that puts me closer to that amazing wardrobe malfunction but she stops me with a wave of her hand.
"Don't even think about it," she laughs. "I just need to grab some safety pins."
