Things are Complicated

Chapter 26: Not even a Bridesmaid

“Is she okay?”

Someone poked my face but moving now meant ruining a really good dream. One involving really tone, caramel-skinned man and a whole lot of whip cream.

“Just check if she’s breathing.” D said from the other side of the bed.

Between getting lectured at for being late for check-in and yanked along to the rehearsal dinner, my friends and I have not been able to step a single foot outside the hotel. Running around on an empty stomach made me cranky enough, having to listen to my mother discuss details of the blow-by-blow events of tomorrow had me clawing at my hair.

So by six I convinced everyone I needed a nap and slipped off.

Leah pressed two fingers to my neck, “She’s got a pulse.”

“Just let her rest,” Peter whispered, he’s been trying to convince them to leave me alone for ten minutes now.

“We can’t leave her out,” Leah raised her voice and I flipped over.

The action made my head turn inside out and I groaned. “Jeez-us,”

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Leah bounced on the bed. “Get up, it’s been like two hours. There’s a Luau going on downstairs and you haven’t eaten all day.”

At the prospect of food, I lifted my tired self into an upright position and blinked at the small crowd gathered in my room.

“Damn Jed, you look rough,” D had changed to a tang top and swimming shorts.

Peering at the others, I see they too have switched to more comfortable clothes. Leah looked sporty and comfortable in her skirt and short sleeve, while Jett changed to shorts and a lighter, long-sleeved top.

“Go ahead, I need a shower then I’ll meet you down there.” I waved for them to go ahead.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” Leah threatened me as she pushed off the bed and hopped over to latch onto Jett’s arm.

“See you later,” Jett stared at my miserable face long enough for me to realize I don’t hate him as much as I use to.

Five months ago, if I so much as felt his eyes in my directions I’d have burned to rip his you-know-what off and jam it down his throat. Now, I just want my head to stop aching, stomach to stop churning and my balance to stay upright.

After they left I utilized the very fine bath soaps and shampoos provided by the hotel to scrub the self-pity and sweat off. By the time I finished tying my wet hair back and slipping on my shoes, I felt halfway decent.

“About damn time,” D sat in the formal living room, reading the hotel magazine.

“What are you still doing here?” I paused on my way to the door.

“Making sure you kept your promise to not sleep another hour.” He shrugged off the couch and strolled over to follow me out into the hall.

“I’m trying not to waste this opportunity,” I admit as I hit the button for the sleek, black elevator. “But I was really tired.”

D bumped his shoulder against mine and smiled, “Don’t sweat it. Peter kept the others entertained.”

“He’s a nice guy,” I admit as the elevator dinged and slid open.

Inside are two couples, freshly married by their afternoon delight glow. They step off and pet each other all the way to their suites. I kept my eyes forward and stepped into the violated elevator.

“Don’t drink the water,” D mutters under his breath as the doors close.

“Agreed.” I watched the numbers decrease as we declined each floor.