“I mean, good thing I did, or this could be a very different wedding,” Kitty said.
I rolled my eyes. “Like anyone could have kept you two apart.”
* * *
Well, the massage therapists tried to warn us. We were all individually told not to drink too much after our massages. And yet, there we were, all completely hammered off very few drinks.
After we were all good and sloppy, Guy’s old teammate Branson pulled out a guitar from who knows where and started a rousing round of singing campfire classics. The night had a summer camp vibe, but with us wearing fancy clothes and slowly adding sweatshirts and other layers as the night air cooled.
We’d made it through “Brown Eyed Girl” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand” before Kitty pointed at me with her beer bottle. “Annie, sing some Petty.”
“Yeah! Free Fallin’ is so good!” Mikey added. “Everyone will love it.”
“Oh, you know I can’t sing, and you always get all the words wrong, Kitty,” I objected, especially in the presence of so many pseudo-strangers. Sure, I knew the girls from the bachelorette party, but that wasn’t intimate enough for me to sing in front of them.
“Oh, come on, it’s just campfire singing. It doesn’t have to be good,” Jessie said. “Mikey makes me sing all the time even though I’m miserable at it.”
“I know the words.” Nick’s voice cleared through the chatter, making everyone go quiet. When someone who doesn’t talk as much talks, people tend to listen, and I’d noticed how he was alittle more reserved. Still smiling and laughing with everyone, but not a center-of-attention kind of guy.
“Nick, go sit with Annie and sing it with her,” Kitty said with a wink. “She’s being bashful.”
He giggled this little drunk hyena sound and stood, wiggling his butt to squeeze between me and Jessie.
“Cue it up, maestro,” Kitty said, pointing to Branson as if she were an actual maestro.
Branson strummed the iconic opening chords and my heart thumped, my chest instantly going splotchy. Nick put his arm around my shoulders and tugged me close to him, his hyena laugh subdued to a softer, musical thing. “Ready?” he asked as the last round of intro played.
I dared a look into his eyes to find them glittering conspiratorially, his smile shining. Maybe there was something to the hockey boy charm. Even though he was less audacious than his teammates, he had this gentle openness about him that made my stomach tickle.
When was his rookie season? Is thiskid even old enough to drink? My brain went amile a minute, blurred by the massage and booze-inducedbuzz. Fuck it.You deserve some fun.
I bit my lip just before launching into the first words, Nick fully backing me up and not hanging me out to dry. The rest of the group joined in quickly once the right words were established.
I shivered between lyrics. Nick leaned into my ear with a voice that was soft and husky, like we were sharing a little secret. “You cold?”
I nodded and he pumped his hand up and down my arm to warm me, singing with me all the while. It was such a boyfriend-like touch and it just felt so nice. His hand slipped from my shoulder, trailing down my side to my hip and I had to fight a different kind of shiver.
Kitty seemed to have forgotten all about Roger, giving me anapproving eyebrow wiggle as she watched his hand move on me.
When Nick and I mutually messed up the beginning of the third verse, that hyena laugh was back as we got our composure. God, why was he so cute? His skin was randomly perfect even though he’s a dude and probably just used frickin’ hand soap or something stupid to wash his face.
The song ended and he turned to me for a hug, which I fell into wholeheartedly.
“Thanks for backing me up, bub,” I said into his shoulder.
“Anytime, Annabelle,” he murmured, his tone a gravelly scrape that sent a ripple of want through me. What the hell was I doing?
“Look at all the new friends!” Mel cooed. “Did you two know each other before?”
“No! They didn’t!” Kitty shrieked, folding her hands beside her face. “Guy-Guy, I love seeing our friends loving each other like we love them. Y’all are just the best.”
A deep “aww” issued from the set of us as Kitty dissolved into drunken tears, Guy kissing them away.
“You activated her soft side,” Guy said.
But then Kitty wouldn’t stop crying. I exchanged a look with Violet and Tania, a silent bat signal between bridesmaids for when to rein her in. I made the first move to haul Kitty off to bed, knowing she’d be pissed if she got drunker and was thus more hung over on her rehearsal day.
We collectively ended our obnoxious sing-along and sent everyone off to bed, much to the resort staff’s relief.
