"I am going to be so sore."
"Damn right." I shut the water off and smack her ass. She squeaks and I chuckle. "Get a move on, woman. I have a ring to give you and I need food."
Her stomach growls.
"And you need food, too."
She laughs. "We're getting married!"
Fuck yeah, we are!
Chapter Thirteen
Xan and I dance down the stairs, singing Fergalicious. We head to the dinner table where everyone's already seated. They roll their eyes at us and I laugh. We just keep on singing and dancing until the song is over. Then Xan dips me and gives me a big kiss.
"Thank fuck that's over," Jesse groans.
"Language," Mrs. M scolds.
I burn Jesse a look as we take a seat. "We were awesome."
"Damn right, we were," Xan agrees.
We're in the middle of some amazing chicken enchiladas when Ethan stares at my hand, then cocks his head to the right, his brow furrowed.
"Is that…" he breaks off.
I look at Xan who's smirking. I snicker.
"Holy shit, it is!" Ethan shouts.
"Language," Mrs. M chides.
"Screw the language, look at that rock on Tera's finger! Her wedding ring finger," Ethan directs.
I hold up my hand. "Oh, this?"
They all look over, mouths open.
"Yeah, Xan gave this to me just before we came down," I tell them.
"Just before you came down," Dr. Mac repeats. He blinks then looks at Xan. "She said yes?"
Xan nods. "She said yes."
There are congratulations and smiles and laughter.
"When's the big day?" Kennedy asks.
I start to tell him we didn't talk about that yet when Xander cuts me off. "Christmas."
"Christmas?" I squeak.
Xan nods, smiling wide.
"Like in a week, Christmas?" I shriek.
He laughs. "Hell yeah. We got this, right Dad?"
Dr. Mac laughs and nods. "We do. It won't be a problem getting it all arranged."
"Wow," Ben exclaims. "You two are getting married in a week. Married." He pauses. "In a week."
"Knock it off," Jesse scolds. "You're freaking Tera out."
I nod. He is. The way he said it made it real when it's still surreal… me. Marrying Xander.
"You okay?" Linc asks.
I nod, tears filling my eyes. One slips free and I wipe it away quickly. "I am. It's just… I'm marrying Xander." I turn to him and he's giving me a half smile, his eyes filled with so much love—for me.
"You are," Xan affirms.
"You're gonna be the old ball and chain," Linc teases.
I shoot him a glare. "Way to ruin a moment, dick."
"Tera," Mrs. M scolds. She looks at Linc. "But you are acting like one."
Everyone laughs.
Dr. Mac lifts his water glass and stands up. "A toast."
We all lift our glasses.
"To Tera and Xander. May your journey together be full of love, laughter, and happiness."
"Here, here!" everyone cheers.
"You're really going to make me cry," I admit, feeling the tears welling up again.
"Don't be such a pussy," Linc says.
"Well, I am a girl."
"That you are," Xander agrees, "and a seriously hot one at that." He wiggles his eyebrows and Linc makes gagging noises.
"We have much planning to do," Mrs. M announces.
"I wouldn't even know where to begin," I admit.
"You must find a beautiful dress. The rest we will do," she tells me.
"Really? You'd do all that for me?"
Dr. Mac winks. "We'd do anything for you. You know that."
Jose nods his agreement.
"I'm not helping with any of the girlie shit," Jesse announces.
"No way," Ben agrees.
"Nope," Ethan says.
"Hell no," Linc exclaims.
"I'm not even going to say anything because you all know better," Kennedy tells us.
I laugh and Xander snickers.
"You guys just show up in the proper attire. That is all you need to do," Mrs. M tells them.
"That means suits and ties," Dr. Mac informs them. They all grumble.
I lift my chin and flip them off. "Jerks."
"Knock it off, assholes," Xan chides. "It's our fu—effing wedding day. You can wear a damn suit and tie for a few hours."
They all mumble beneath their breath. I lean over and give Xan a kiss on the cheek. That's my guy right there.
"We can still wear our Chucks, right?" Ethan asks.
My biggest concern is finding a dress that isn't too frilly but not too plain either. That can't be too difficult, right?
It is difficult. It's impossible. Either it's super ruffled or beaded or embroidered or it's as plain as can be. I want a simple dress with cap sleeves, sweetheart neckline, and a skirt that doesn't remind me of the fifties. How could they even sit in that without the top part flipping up into their face?
Shea groans. "That won't work. She doesn't want all that fluff."
The saleswoman scoffs. "She should just try it. It might work."
"I'm telling you—" Shea continues bitching while I tune them out, taking off yet another lacy concoction fit for a Barbie doll. This is our fifth store and after nearly ten dresses in this one, I can understand why Shea's frustrated. The woman is just not listening.
"Know what?" I say, opening the fitting room curtain. "I'm going to go look for myself. This is ridiculous."
"You're in a strapless bra and panties with nylons and heels," the saleswoman gasps.
"Unless you have a robe you're going to let me wear, I'm going out there just like this. I don't even care anymore."
She twitches, then flits off to find me something to cover up with.
Shea laughs. "I can see you doing that."
"Ugh. I really would. I am sick of them not listening. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't know what I want. Stereotyping bitches."
I reach for the satin cover-up handed to me, put it on, and head straight to the sales floor.
I immediately turn right and I can see why the saleswoman was bringing me all those hideous dresses. They're right here.
"Too lazy to walk across the store to the section of my preference?" I ask.
She presses her lips together.
"I think I would like to speak to your manager."
"But—"
"No. No 'buts'. Your. Manager. Now." I'm irritated, annoyed, and really pissed off that this chick wasn't willing to do her job properly but wanted a commission from my sale. Not happening.
"Oooh, she's in trouble now," Shea taunts as the manager comes walking up.
"Hello. I'm Nora, the boutique manager. How can I be of assistance?" she asks and I can already tell she's one of those people who is all business. I like that.
"The saleslady…" I draw a blank at her name. Did she even tell us her name? "I gave her a specific type of dress I wanted. This is the kind of, pardon my French, shit she brought in. It is nothing like I described to her," I explain.
"Not too frilly is pretty self explanatory. It seems your girl over there was too lazy to walk over there," Shea points, "where we can clearly see the style of dress Tera is interested in."
"I do apologize and I can assure you, Corinne will be dealt with," Nora begins. "Let's go take a look. I think I have an idea of what you're looking for."
We follow and when we reach the section that is befitting to my request, Nora eyes me.
"Size three?"
I nod.
"Why don't you start with this one? I'll bring a few more back while you try that one."
"Sounds great."
"Bless you, Nora," Shea praises.
Shea helps me pull the dress over my head.
"This isn't bad," I tell Shea before we've even got it zipped up.
"Go look in the mirrors," Shea instructs.
I nod and step up onto the box,
looking into the mirrors in front of me.
"It's so close," I tell Shea. It's just not quite right. There's something about it that isn't working for me.
Nora enters the room and stops. "No. That's not the one. Let's try this next."
Shea takes the next dress, her eyes wide and when she looks at me she mouths wow. I grin. I like Nora.
The second and third dresses are just a tad to plain. The fourth a little too beaded for my liking.
"One more," I tell Shea. Who knew trying on wedding dresses could be so exhausting? Though we have been at it for five hours. Insanity.
"I have a good feeling about this one," Nora announces when she walks into the room.
I change dresses and stand up on the box. All I can do is stare. This is the one. It's perfect. White satin, the top portion just as I envisioned it, and the skirt not clingy yet not too poofy.
"This is the one," I announce. "This is the dress I'm going to marry Xander in."
"That sentence should be the weirdest thing you've ever said to me, but it's not. It's the one that has made the most sense since I've known you."
Nora comes in with a tiara with a small veil and a pair of heels that look like they're going to kill me.
The veil is perfect and the shoes are surprisingly comfortable.
"Wow. I thought these would hurt," I admit.
Nora smiles. "I wouldn't do that to you. Do you need any other accessories?"
I shake my head. "I don't want gloves and my soon-to-be-father-in-law said he wanted to give me the jewelry." I look at Shea. "Dr. Mac is gonna be my father-in-law."
Shea laughs. "He pretty much has been for how many years now?"
I nod. Unofficially, he has. But this will be official.
"I'm getting married," I whisper, looking at myself in the mirrors.
"Are you nervous?" Shea asks.
I shake my head. "Not even a little."
"That's how you know it's right," Nora informs us.
I smile and meet her gaze in the mirror. "Thank you, Nora."
"The pleasure is mine. You look stunning. Your fiancé won't know what hit him."
"I like him a little off-kilter," I admit.
Shea laughs. "You've had him tilting a bit to the left since the day you met."
"A little bit to the left," I repeat, laughing. "That's awesome."
"What do you say you get out of that dress and we go get some ice cream?" Shea requests.
"I'm so up for that."
Nora rings up the sale, giving me ten percent off because of the shit Corinne pulled even though I told her she more than made up for the other chick's annoyance. Nora insisted and there is no winning an argument with her.
"The dress will be delivered before the end of the day," Nora informs us.
"Thank you, Nora. You saved me from hurting someone."
Shea and I head to Gill's.
We're finishing up our burgers when Carter and a few other guys from the football team come walking in. I wish Carter and I still had the easy going relationship we had before, but I understand why he's gone his own way.
He spots us and heads over with a smile. "Pretty girls."
I smirk. "Smooth talker."
"If only," he replies with a laugh. What are you two up to besides eating more than our linebackers?"
I look at the table with the empty plates, empty malt glasses, and we really did eat a lot.
"Hey, I didn't eat all my fries," I defend.
"That's probably a good thing or you won't fit into your wedding dress," he teases, but I see the sadness in his eyes, hear it in his tone. It makes me sad.
"That's the truth," Shea answers. "We just found it before we came here. You should see it. It's perfect."
Carter's smile is forced. "Yeah?"
Shea nods, not really paying attention to anything but her food. "She looks like a princess."
"Of course she does," Carter replies. He looks over at me, his smile soft, his eyes still so, so sad.
"I—" Shea breaks off, finally looking up and realizing who she's talking to. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry, Carter."
"Stop. It's fine," he urges.
"It's not. I can't believe I—"
"Really, Shea. I'm fine. I promise," he insists.
I reach out and rest my hand over his where it's resting on the edge of the table. I offer him an apologetic smile and he gently squeezes my hand.
"Saturday, right?" he asks.
I nod. "Are you coming?"
"I wouldn't miss it," he replies. "I'm truly happy for you, babe."
"Thank you, Carter. It means a lot to me."
He nods. "I know it does."
The guys call out to him, their waitress is waiting.
"I better go," he says. He pauses, runs a finger down my cheek. "Be happy." With that he turns and quickly walks away.
I take a steadying breath and see Shea looking at me questioningly. "I don't have romantic feelings for Carter, but I do love him. He's been such a big part of my life and I hate that he's hurting because of me."
"It can't be helped. You were his everything," she reminds me.
"He was mine, too."
"But he wasn't in love with someone else."
"No, he wasn't, but he knew."
She nods. "He did. He knew and it didn't matter to him at all. He wanted you any way he could get you for as long as he could."
"I don't get it. I'm no one special. I'm just some chick who struggles to get good grades and likes to paint."
"Not to him."
I sigh.
"Just breathe, T. He's a lot better than he was. If this had been right after you two broke up, he'd be destroyed."
"Gee, thanks for that," I say and throw a fry at her.
She picks it up and eats it. "Yeah, you don't need those fries. Hand them over. I don't have to worry about fitting into a dress."
I snort. "You sure as hell do. You're my maid of honor."
She groans. "I thought you'd forget about that."
I laugh. "Not likely, bestie. At least I chose blue instead of that salmon-pink thing the sales clerk showed us."
"If you'd have picked that one, we couldn't be friends anymore. My friends would never pick that color."
Carter's laughter drifts over from where he's sitting. It's faint, but I hear it. It's real and he sounds happy. Just six more months and we'll graduate and go our separate ways. Then Carter won't see me and be sad anymore.
I really, really hope he finds his happy.
The rest of the week flies by with exams. Imagine how bad I'd bomb if I was nervous about the wedding. That's something Xander didn't take into account. Men.
Today's my wedding day. I'm marrying Xander Mackenzie. I can't believe it.
Shea's mom comes over to do my hair and makeup, which I'm thankful for. It's not easy styling my long, very straight black hair. It's impossible for me to do anything with besides a ponytail or a messy bun, but Shea's mom puts it up into some intricate twist, leaving a few tendrils of curls to frame my face.
"You look beautiful, mija," Mrs. M says as she enters my room.
I stare at myself in the mirror then glance to her with a small smile. "Thanks."
"Nervous?"
"Not a bit."
Mrs. M stands behind me and smiles into the mirror. "That's how you know it's real."
"Shea said the same thing to me the other day. But I've always known it was real."
"And so has Xander. That boy was in love with you before he knew what love was," she reminds me.
I have one tiny sliver of doubt and she must see it.
"What is it?"
"Am I doing the right thing? By marrying him, I mean."
"You have doubts?" she asks, surprised.
"Not about us. But will I be holding him back? He's going to be touring a lot, which means we're going to be apart a lot and that means there'll be a lot of other girls out there throwing themselves at him. Isn't it a right of passage for a rock star to screw
his share of groupies?" I ask, blinking back tears.
Mrs. M's brows are furrowed. "I do not think Xander wants that for himself. Did you not discuss this?"
I look down where my fingers are rubbing against the soft satin of my dress. "No. Not in depth"
"Maybe it is something you should talk to Xander about before you get married, no?"
I nod and look up. "Could you get him?"
"He cannot see you before the wedding. It is bad luck," she reminds me.
"I'll stay behind the room divider."
"There is nothing you need to worry about, but I'll get him for you."
When Mrs. M walks out, Shea walks in.
"What's going on?"
"I just have something I need to talk to Xan about before the ceremony."
"What? He can't see you before the ceremony! It's bad luck!" she exclaims, shoving me behind the room divider.
"I was planning on moving back here before he came in."
There's a knock at the door.
"Good thing I shoved you, huh?" she chides.
"Tera?" Xan questions through the door.
"Come in," I call out. Shea excuses herself. "You have to stay on that side of the divider."
He chuckles. "I know. Mrs. M told me. Bad luck and all that, right?"
I smirk and blow out a breath. "Yeah."
"What's going on, T? You change your mind?"
"No, no. I haven't changed my mind, but there's something I think we should have talked about before now, before we get married."
"Okay."
"I expect complete honesty," I tell him. I can't see his eyes to see if he's telling me the truth or not, so I will fall back on the trust I have in him.
"Of course, Beautiful. What's wrong?"
"I… rock stars have certain lifestyles. They live on the road. They rock hard and they play hard. If we're married, will I cheat you out of parts of that lifestyle?"
"No," he answers, without hesitation.
"Are you sure? Think about this, Xan. Really think about this. The other guys will have women all over them. They'll fuck groupies on a regular basis. What's it going to be like for you to go through this for however long until I can go with you more often?" I ask.
"I've been part of that already, Tera."
"But it was only for three months. Think about six months or year-long tours. If I'm in college, I'll have a heavy class load, which means I won't be able to get away like I did. This is senior year and my classes are easy."