The air was electric with an anticipatory charge. Dr. Sterling held his new bride’s hand as she stepped up onto an elevated surface. The DJ started the obligatory countdown, and the crowd joined in, voices rising with the collective hope of women everywhere who’d ever been told their future was waiting right there, just above their heads.
Poppy had no intention of participating in the antiquated tradition. When the countdown hit zero, Cora flung the floral arrangement high in the air. Poppy kept her arms at her sides as she watched the flowers arc in a perfect rainbow. The next second was a blur of pure instinct and reflexes honed from four years on the varsity volleyball team in high school. Her hands left her sides as the bouquet fell into her arms with a soft thud, ending up with her cradling the arrangement like a baby.
She wasn’t sure how that had happened. Women had jumped over others, leapfrogging, reaching up, and attempting to snatch the coveted roses in a steal, but somehow, they’d landed directly in her arms. She stood there, momentarily stunned, as Tianaand Jenna shrieked and tackled her from both sides, enveloping her in a mutual-hug-sandwich that nearly sent all three to the ground.
Poppy barely heard the applause as she made her way off the dance floor because she met AJ’s gaze. He was standing with Niko and another man who she thought was called Anthony. Despite the distance, Poppy felt his focus like a hot spotlight. She felt his stare shoot straight to her lady parts. The look he gave her was complicated, half interest, half something darker, more curious, like he was trying to solve a riddle and she was the clue. Whatever pheromone this man had, her body was very susceptible to it. It was so potent, it had affected her through a 2D photo on social media.
As the men took their spots on the starting line, as it were, she silently prayed that as shitty as her life had been the past year, if she could please just have AJ catch the garter, it would really be nice. Then she’d have an excuse to talk to him. And she’d know once and for all if anything was actually there or if it was just in her head.
She prayed to God, the universe, karma, or whatever was out there to just give her this one thing. She wasn’t asking for the world, just that the man she wanted to speak to would catch the garter. She felt like she’d earned it.
AJ watched from the sidelines as Poppy caught the bouquet. The ritual of the bouquet toss began in medieval times. It was a way to discourage guests from tearing at the bride’s clothes, which was considered good luck, she would give them a piece of her flowers. Over time, the tradition evolved so that the single woman who caught the bouquet was believed to be thenext to marry. The garter toss evolved in the same way, it was given away to stop the bride’s leg from being torn off and then thrown with the idea that whoever caught it would have good luck and be the next to marry. Another belief was that the garter was considered proof that the marriage had been consummated. Guests would wait outside the bridal room, and the groom would appear with the garter as evidence of doing the deed.
He understood the significance of rituals in a society, but participating was an entirely different proposition. Surrounded by over twenty men who were all vying for a piece of lace that symbolized something he didn’t even want made absolutely zero sense to him. The only reason he went along with things of this nature was because it was easier than protesting.
For the first time he had any personal investment in the outcome. The sole personal stake he had in the result was that whoever caught the scrap of material would be photographed with the person who caught the flowers. For some reason, AJ didn’t want anyone else taking that photo with Poppy. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d seen the man he now knew was named Dr. Grant Edwards seated next to Poppy during the ceremony. Since he’d never experienced it before, it took him several hours to identify and name the feeling, actually feelings. Jealousy. Possessiveness.
Those two emotions were completely foreign to AJ. He thought they were pointless and had never comprehended them. Now he understood there was no logical reason for them to exist. They just showed up, unannounced, like unwanted house guests with dirty laundry they wanted to run through your washing machine.
The bouquet toss was, on the face of it, a juvenile tradition, one that he’d always considered a relic of an earlier, less rational era. Yet in the hands of Poppy Davies, it became something else, a contest, a demonstration, a hope. She’d caught the bouquetwithout seeming to try, as if it simply obeyed the laws of physics and landed in the arms of the woman most likely to appreciate its meaning. The moment she’d caught it, her eyes met his once again. The energy that flowed between them felt electric.
He walked out onto the dance floor, his earplugs firmly in place. Standing in the center of men all elbowing each other with manufactured bravado and ritualized horseplay. The DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers, egging the crowd on as AJ remained still aside from his middle fingers, which were tapping his palm. Dr. Sterling removed the garter and then spun it around his finger. All the men around him began to yell and whistle. The DJ counted down, and the tension in the room ramped up to an almost unbearable degree.
The volume was getting higher as people bumped against him. He’d been in a large crowd for nearly three hours now, and he’d reached his tolerance limit. He felt his battery getting too low, he’d need to leave soon to recharge.
Once this was done, he’d let Poppy know that Liam asked him to take her home and that he’d be waiting outside for her when she was ready.
With that decision made, his eyes lifted just in time to see a white blur flying through the air before it hit him square in the chest. His reflexes responded, and his hands caught the material like a star wide receiver who’d just run the perfect play. The second he’d secured the garter, the crowd around him erupted. His cousins cheered loudly, and Niko jumped on his back in an MMA move he’d been doing since they were kids.
AJ dropped his shoulder and removed his arm, easily extracting him as he firmly stated, “Get off.”
Once his brother’s feet were down on the ground again, Niko grabbed his shoulder and slapped his chest. His cousins were all slapping his back. AJ closed his eyes to block out some of the light and began implementing breathing techniques as heconcentrated on the weight of his feet connecting to the floor. He was pulling out several techniques from his sensory regulating toolkit.
The DJ’s voice, amplified through the speakers, sliced through the hum of cheers and the rhythmic pulse of “Levitating” by Dua Lipa that was vibrating through him. “Okay, can I have the bouquet and garter catchers to the center of the dance floor for a photo op!”
AJ felt the words land with a physical thud like a punch to his gut, followed by the dull roll of anxiety. This was the reason he’d wanted to catch the garter, so another man wouldn’t be posing for a photo with Poppy. But he hadn’t thought about the entire picture, something that was very out of character for AJ. He always thought every situation through from every angle. This was more than just Poppy, it was a public display. Cameras. Attention. He could already feel the heat rising behind his ears, a sure sign his internal temperature was about to spike.
About ten feet away, he could see Poppy in silhouette, and the rest of the room faded away. Her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, a secret smile spread across her beautiful face as if she’d just been handed the keys to the city. He felt another strange, foreign sensation ripple through his chest, like a string had been plucked inside his ribcage. The first adjective that sprung to mind was…longing.
He moved, shoulders squared, the pressure of a hundred sets of eyes pushing him forward like an undertow. Every step was deliberate and measured
He tapped his palms with the pads of his middle fingers rapidly, like a woodpecker on a tree trunk as he stimmed, his body’s natural tool to de-escalate the anxiety rising in his system.
AJ reached the epicenter of the dance floor just as the photographer, Tessa—who had spent the evening corrallingwayward family members for group shots—materialized with her camera at the ready.
Poppy arrived at the same time from the opposite direction, bouquet in hand. Her gaze flicked to his hand, then up to his face, and she gave him the smallest nod of solidarity, as though to say,I see you.
Or maybe that was his projection. Maybe the movement of his middle finger had just caught her attention, and she’d glanced down and then back up at him. Maybe he was seeing what he wanted to see. He wanted a connection with her, so he was suffering from confirmation bias.
Tessa reached out her hand to Poppy. “Hi, I’m Tessa.”
“Hi, Tessa, I’m Poppy, like the flower,” she said as she simultaneously lifted up the bouquet. “Well, notthisflower, but you know what I mean.”
AJ listened to the rhythm of her voice, it was a unique blend of confidence and nervousness. He liked it. He liked her. Being this close to her caused every cell in his body to feel like it was being awakened for the first time, like an army of soldiers who were ready to march to battle.
Personal space wasveryimportant to him. It took him a significant amount of time before he was comfortable having people near him, much less having any sort of contact with them. But with Poppy, he wanted to not only be closer to her, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers through her silky hair. He wanted to run his thumb along her jaw and tilt it up so he could lean down and kiss her. He wanted to feel her hands running up and down his back, his shoulders, and in his hair. It was overwhelming and both exhilarating anddeeplyunsettling.
“Poppy, do you know AJ?” Tessa, who grew up in Hope Falls, was someone who AJ had known peripherally from the time he’d spent there during summers and holidays in his youth.
