The Right Wrong Wedding

4. Anne, the captain

Chapter 4: Anne, the captain.

I woke up to the sight of Dan sitting cross-legged on a rundown ruby sofa, holding a pack of frozen peas to his left cheek and scrolling through his phone.

Wow my hero.

I wanted to ask if the peas were really necessary but my mind was so jumbled the only thing that came out of my mouth was an incoherent mumble. Daniel looked up and smiled at my poker-face – immediately discarding his phone beside him and jutting his chin up in a silent question. You okay?

I lazily nodded my head, sitting up. "Where are we?" I ask, staring at the worn, pale mustard duvet my legs were tangled in.

"I uh – didn't know if it would be suitable to take you to your apartment since you were knocked out, so I brought you here," he was rubbing the back of his neck.

I rub my eyes. "Where exactly is here?"

"My best friend's apartment. You fell asleep in the car, by the way,"

I wanted to sarcastically retort that I wouldn't have ever been able to figure that out without him but refrained from doing so.

He had a cute smile on his face.

This time I jutted my chin forward, asking, "Is your cheek really that swollen?"

He gave me a dimpled smile. "Nah. Holding this makes me look cooler,"

Laughing slightly, I slip out of the bed and survey the room. It was littered with the typical teenage-boy mess, with discarded candy wrappers and beer cans on the floor, random magazines on the coffee table and American Author's posters on the walls – with the exception of a creepy cartoon chicken clock ticking in the corner on one of the plain grey walls.

That's when Anne walks in with a plate of heavenly smelling sandwiches, my mouth watering at the sight.

"Sleeping beauty finally decided to wake up," she announced, placing the turkey and cheese sandwiches on top of the stack of magazines.

An unfamiliar, deep voice chuckled, causing me to almost drop the sandwich I had raised to my open mouth before I sharply turned, facing the voice.

"Ash, meet Brian," I heard Dan say behind me. "He's my best friend," his tone was like a five-year-old introducing his two most favorite people to each other.

Brian was tall and lean – just like Danny – but his skin was sun kissed, naturally tanned, paired with a windswept mop of curly brown hair shaping his face, matching his hazel eyes. He was Asian, cute doe eyes that gave me a wink when I looked at him in surprise. He had a black, form fitting t-shirt and scruffy grey jeans to match.

"He insisted on not waking you up – said you needed rest," Brian told me, a secret smile on his face as he grabbed a sandwich for himself. "He carried you all the way to the apartment,"

I then looked at my... husband (lord that was harder to say than I thought) with a 'please explain' expression.

"We're on the fifth floor," Anne chirped, sitting crossed legged on the stained green rug, "And the lift was broken. Don't worry, I made Brian carry me too. Because, equality."

"You're not that heavy," he says, his mouth full of food. I crinkle my nose. "Jesus, these are good!" he suddenly exclaims. "What did you put in here?"

I zoned out Anne's reply, watching them interact enthusiastically, discussing different types of mustards. Blinking, I look over to Daniel to only find him staring intently at me, his head slightly tilted. I don't think he realizes he does that when he goes deep in thought.