My relationship with my mother was complicated. I did love her, but the way she had raised me came with its flaws. There were the constant critiques in front of the mirror, the pressure to look a certain way, and the way money was always tied to control. And then there was her favorite pastime—rushing to set me up with the sons of her friends, like finding me a husband was the most urgent thing in the world. It was the kind of Southern matchmaking that left no room for me to figure out who I actually wanted. Despite all of that, she was still my mother, and after my father’s death, it felt impossible to walkaway from her. We were tangled up in a cycle of dependence and obligation that made it hard to separate who I was from who she wanted me to be.
“I’m going to do it. It sounds wild, but I’m going to do it. Plus, if we aren’t actually dating after this then I’m free to just enjoy my time here without the pressure of finding a husband.”
“True.” There was another pregnant pause. “Should we get off the floor and get dressed?”
Jennie stood and grabbed my hands. The moment my feet hit the ground, she wrapped me in a huge hug. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I am really honored to be here today. Thank you for choosing me.”
“Thank you for being here with me.”
She pulled away, tears glistening in her eyes. “Now it makes sense why he asked that stupid question last night.”
I laughed because if I didn’t, I’d cry.
“Let’s pick a dress,” Jennie commanded, and we turned around, grabbing a few of the white pieces I’d set out.
“Let’s get married.”
Several hours later, I stepped out of my house. My golden hair was curled down my back. I’d put on some makeup that matched the dress I picked. Jennie and I had settled on an off-white summer maxi dress that was a little boho. It tied at the chest area, which made my boobs look enormous, but she insisted that I needed to look good for my wedding.
Jennie borrowed a light blue summer dress from my closet, and we headed outside.
“Where is this big wedding?” she asked as we walked toward the front and past the gate.
“Austin’s mom has a garden in the back, so it’s at their house.”
“Who’s marrying you?”
“His best friend got ordained online. I guess you can do that pretty quickly.”
“Huh. Alright then, let’s?—”
“Charlie?” Austin was getting out of his car.
He was wearing a pair of black pants and a blazer with a white shirt that was unbuttoned, showing off his tanned skin.
“In the flesh.” I gave him a quick spin, letting the dress fan out at the bottom as I twirled. I stopped and turned to whisper to Jennie. “That was dumb.”
She let out a hearty laugh, but Austin was prowling toward me.
“You—” he whispered, and before I could react, he slid his hands around my waist, firm and possessive.
He pulled me in close, our bodies pressing together as his fingers tightened around my waist. His chest brushed against mine, and the warmth of his breath fanned across my neck as he tilted his head, his lips hovering inches away from my skin. It wasn’t a hug; it was a pull, a claim, and every inch of me was aware of him.
“Hi,” I whispered softly, the words barely making it past my lips.
“Hi.” He pulled back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You look stunning.”
His eyes slowly trailed down my chest, and I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze. “Is it too much?”
“It’s perfect.” His hands dragged along the sides of my dress, grazing past my breasts, and I was immediately on fire from his touch.
He was a roommate... that I was marrying. He was just a roommate. We couldn’t be anything else.
“This must feel so silly since this is your second time getting married.”
Austin shook his head, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist, smashing our chests together. He brought his finger up to my chin. “I never... No.” He blinked a few times like he was realizing where he was all of a sudden. “This is... so...”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and I cupped his cheek. He rested his forehead on mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The words didn’t matter because whatever was happening between us—this connection—felt wild and out of control.
