Fall Apart (3 page)

“I actually came to see if you wanted to take another stab at me and you,” he pointed at his chest, then at hers. “Run away from here. Never look back.”

Mandy snickered then gave a crack of laughter that didn’t suit the poised and put-together look of her sky blue morning dress and white wrist gloves. “We should’ve had much more to drink that night than we did, just so we don’t have to remember it now. Your accent made you sound so convincing. Even when it came to awkward sex.”

“Awkward? You were charming,” he whispered pleasantly. “But I couldn’t get past your breasts. They were just so
breasty
and
engaging
. I kept looking for balls, never finding them.”

Mandy had hidden her face against his suit and was trying not to snort with laughter. Alarik saw that they were drawing curious stares, many of which were from those at the head table. Damon was having an eye contact conversation with the groom, likely trying to find out who this bloke was with his hands all over Mandy. Luke shook his head with a patient smile and left the table to come their way.

“Your groom approaches. Pull yourself together,” he teased in mock seriousness. “He can never know of our passion.”

Mandy hugged him again and sighed. “Thank you so much for being here.”

“It’s my pleasure and a welcome diversion from my intoxicating daily life.”

His voice took on an edge that he didn’t intend for Mandy to hear and before she could do more than frown at his tone, Luke arrived and offered a hand to Alarik. The grip was firm and polite and there wasn’t even a hint of territoriality in it. Excellent. Mandy had paved his way.

“It’s good to see you again, Alarik. What’s it been? Two years?”

Alarik squinted, trying to recall the only other time they’d met. “I think you’re right. Congratulations on marrying the best woman I know.”

Luke gave a friendly nod and asked about the hotel accommodations, if Alarik needed anything, and how long he was staying in Santa Barbara. The customary questions.

Once Alarik had moved appointments around to make it to the wedding, he’d decided to leave his schedule open. He was thinking of using the time to sleep and relax; his life leading up to this weekend had been mad. For a few days it’d be nice to pretend he didn’t have any obligations.

The bride and groom couldn’t stay with him long as they had to bow and scrape for the other guests, and when Alarik took his seat he found he was the focus of a blue-eyed stare. The wicked grin that rose to his lips was well practiced, but in this instance wholly unplanned. He couldn’t help it.

Damon didn’t quite frown in return, but Alarik had irritated enough people in his lifetime to identify the signs. Here, with this man, he wasn’t necessarily welcome. How intriguing.

Well, that clinches it
, Alarik decided. He had to decipher this clue.

Lifting his teacup in acknowledgment of that unimpressed gaze, he chuckled to himself and turned his attention back to his table. He was now committed to becoming a nuisance.

“Don’t lock your knees,” Damon murmured under his breath as Luke swayed slightly. His best friend was turning an ugly color of yellow-green and was swallowing a lot; the pressure was getting to him.

Luke had always been a tender soul when it came to being the center of attention. Since their days at Ventura High School when he’d passed out cold giving a speech about the Plantagenets, Luke had made little progress in this area. A group of five or more people looking at him at one time was enough to get the shakes going and this was much worse than that.

The Thacks had reserved the outer courtyard of The Beacon Hotel for the ceremony and around three hundred pairs of blinking eyes were currently focused on Luke and his nine groomsmen. It was late September and mild, but Luke was sweating like it was high noon on execution day. The string quartet needed to get cracking so that the attention could shift to the bridesmaids who were waiting to glide down the aisle, but apparently no one had given them the high sign.

Damon took a step closer to his friend and whispered, “I bet you fifty bucks that the flower girl cries, the ring bearer bolts, and a bridesmaid trips on the aisle runner.”

Luke looked up at him distractedly until a slow smile grew on his face and some of his color returned. “Fifty?”

Damon nodded and Luke considered it.

“You’re on.” They shook hands and the music finally began. Those three hundred pairs of eyes shifted to the flower girl about to bop down the aisle and Luke took a deep breath. “Thanks, man.”

Damon clapped his friend on the shoulder and settled in for the show. The flower girl was dry-eyed, the ring bearer noble. The bridesmaids in their ruby dresses were fleet of foot and poised, and Damon was out fifty bucks.

The music changed and Mandy appeared at the end of the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father. She was as pretty as any bride could hope to be. The dress was eye-popping, but her smile stole the show. Luke, of course, was mesmerized.

Good for you buddy, Damon thought. Nobody deserved it more.

Mandy was weepy during the vows and Luke’s voice was only slightly choked as he promised himself forever. The mothers in the front rows were creating rivers and streams of tears. Old Thack surprised the hell out of Damon with his own wet eyes. Luke’s father, on the other hand, was the rock no one could squeeze blood from—totally stoic.

Everyone cheered during the kiss and as the newlyweds retreated down the aisle. Damon offered his arm to Valerie and she took it, but her focus was over his shoulder where Todd was standing.

She pasted on a neutral expression as they made their own escape. She waved brightly at old family friends and guests while Damon’s goal was simply to get down the aisle and out of view as quickly as possible. The photographer had stopped Mandy and Luke, so Damon was forced to slow down so there wouldn’t be a pile up.

Andrew was in the fifth row; Damon had spotted him before the ceremony began and ignored him the rest of the time. Three rows back from that, on the aisle, was the guy he’d seen at the brunch—the slick photographer friend of Mandy’s that she couldn’t stop talking about at the rehearsal dinner. She’d actually sought Damon out several times with the express purpose of discussing him, it seemed.

What was his name? Godrick?
No…

Unfortunately, the way the guy looked wasn’t as easily forgotten as his name. Upon first glance, Damon had been reminded of the actor from the TV show
Lost
. Not the Jack guy, but the other dude, Sawyer. Although, Mandy’s friend kept his jaw clean-shaven. He did have the bright eyes…the goddamned dimples. He looked very nice in a suit and
very, very
nice in a tuxedo.

It was really frivolous to be so good looking, Damon decided.
Whatshisname
probably didn’t have to be talented in order to be successful, looking like that. And even though he shared similar features with an actor, he also seemed to share the devilish attitude and smirk. Damon didn’t like that, either, and that was mostly because he liked it so much.

At the aisle’s end, the wedding planner directed him and Valerie like a well-dressed traffic cop until they were rounding a corner and crammed into a vestibule with the bride and groom, who were locked together and kissing pretty well.

He and Valerie froze, and then simultaneously spun around to stare at the carpet, the wallpaper, dust…anything.

Sheeze. Save some for the honeymoon, pal.

When Luke groaned, Valerie broke her silence. “That’s
plenty
!” she barked. “Pictures, then drinking, then food, then dancing, then cake, then honeymoon and honeymoon sex, okay?”

As the rest of the wedding party arrived and everyone was talking at once, Damon squeezed himself off to the side and was shortly afterward packed in a corner with Franco and Todd. The former was messing with his tuxedo jacket and the latter was leaning back, hands in his pockets and his eyes closed like he was going to snatch some sleep during the uproar.

“Franco, what are you
doing
?” Damon asked as he was elbowed in the gut for the third time.

His friend grunted and kept fidgeting. “Sandra found my cigarettes. She’s got me wearing one of those damn patches and it’s driving me crazy.”

Todd laughed, his eyes still closed. He didn’t have to say it; they both knew what he was thinking.
You married her
.

For a second, Damon felt sorry for Todd. He wondered how the wedding affected him and if he was upset. Then Franco elbowed him a fourth time and he forgot about it, jerking around in the small space, forcing his buddy to stand up straight and tugging on his lapels until Franco was back in order.

“Accept it, Franco,” Todd drawled with one eye cracked open in sympathy. “Your life is no longer your own. Sandra won’t let cigarettes kill you. That’s
her
job.”

Franco gave both of them a sour look and stopped twisting around like a kid forced to wear short pants. “You’re just jealous I have someone to care about me,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Maybe I am,” Todd eventually answered, but both of his eyes were closed again and it was clear he would say no more.

The wedding planner squeezed her way into the vestibule with the twenty of them and the family members that were arriving for pictures by the second. She was small, but she had a commanding voice and it was the work of a moment for them to follow her obediently to the private terrace and lawns that Mandy had requested for pictures. They were informed that the group pictures would be done first, allowing people to peel off to the reception hall until it was only the bride and groom left for all the frilly romantic snapshots they could ever want to bore their friends with.

For his own part, Damon was excited about having a couple beers, eating free food and stealing cake for Davey. He hadn’t had a snack since brunch and that wasn’t really a meal. It was a sampling of bite-sized breakfast foods. Todd had to pack down three plates just to counteract the champagne in his mimosas.

Damon also had a big speech to give during the dinner and he didn’t have a word planned out. It was likely that three hundred strangers would soon learn how eloquent he
wasn’t
.

The photographer and wedding planner gathered both families in for a big picture. Grandmas, grandpas, uncles, aunts, cousins—people young and old were crawling out of the woodwork. They got a few shots like that and then more of the two families separately. Todd crammed his hands back into his pockets and muttered quietly, Franco scratched his arm as inconspicuously as possible and Damon took a seat on the low terrace wall, mostly hidden by an enormous cement planter with flowers pouring out of it.

When Luke’s family was being arranged in rows, Damon caught a glimpse of Andrew in the mix and he pushed himself further behind the planter. God, he wanted to punch that playboy mouth. It made him feel better to think that if it were up to Luke, Andrew wouldn’t be in the family picture at all. Not just because of what an ass he’d been to Damon, but because he was an ass in general.

As the families finished up and headed back into the hotel for cocktails, Luke hailed Damon, Todd, and Franco. Over his shoulder, Damon saw Andrew lingering like he was going to make his approach and start the games. As discreetly as he could, Damon scratched a pretend itch on his forehead with his middle finger.

Go screw yourself, pecker.

He didn’t wait to see if Andrew got the idea.

Luke gestured toward his wife and the bridesmaids. “They’re doing pics with Mandy and the ladies first and she asked Alarik if he’d get some shots of the four of us together while we wait.”

Alarik. Not Godrick. Noted.

Franco glanced around the terrace. “Where is he?” Lack of cigarettes was already making him cranky. Sandra picked a perfect time to put her foot down.

“He’s on his way.” Luke squinted at the three of them, a sure sign he was feeling emotional. “Thanks for doing this for me, guys. You know, for being here this whole week. It means a lot.” He cleared his throat noisily. “The good news is that I don’t have to pee anymore, I’ve got a wife, and I’ll already have a tux to wear when Todd here decides to marry himself next month.”

The smile that flashed over Todd’s face snuck up on all of them and the sight alone made them laugh. Franco made a crack, blowing off the last bit of steam since Todd struck a nerve in the vestibule, and all was same old-same old with them again.

Damon nudged Luke in the shoulder. “I thought you were going down on that stage, man. Flat on your face.”

“I thought so, too. That speech in high school came to mind like fifty fucking times. Mandy would’ve murdered me if I passed out up there.”

“Damon was ready to rescue with mouth-to-mouth if you needed it,” Todd broke in, that smile still in place.

Damon shook his head. “It’d be less about saving you and more about me getting the chance to makeout with someone. It’s been a long, lonely haul…”

Luke pursed his lips and smooched at him and whatever he was about to say was cut off by Alarik’s arrival.

“Hey, you ready for us?” Luke asked.

“All finished, actually,” Alarik answered. “I got what I was looking for while you were chatting. I’m not a big fan of posed, school room shots.”

Oh fucking perfect!
Damon hollered to himself. The guy had a goddamn English accent. Added to his looks, it was a vicious one-two punch.

Alarik was amused about something, but he offered his hand to each of them in turn. “I’m Alarik Elo. Pleasure to meet you.” He said the last to Damon alone and Todd and Franco snickered. Mandy must have shared with them that there’d be another
known
gay
on the loose at her wedding.

“Damon Wright,” he answered, and pointed to the other two. “Franco Di Alberto and Todd Howard.”

Alarik gave Damon a reprieve and turned back to Luke. “Mandy didn’t mention she wanted shots with you and the entire batch of groomsmen. Did you want the other boys included?”

Luke sniffed. “They’re not my friends.
These
guys are my friends.”