Sky High (Three Contemporary Novella's) (12 page)

“Cut the shit. You weren’t that drunk either. Quit trying to blow this off.”

“Why don’t you quit acting like it matters?”

He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. “Because it
does
matter. We’ve been friends for five years—”

She snorted in laughter.

“Okay, fine, we’ve been
acquaintances
for five years. But we just crossed a major line back there and—”

She finally spun around to look at him.

“No, we didn’t. Nothing is going to change. I’ll go on ignoring you and you keep ignoring me. Come on, Jesse, I’m doing you a favor. You got a little action, no strings attached. That’s your favorite scenario. What are you complaining about?”

All the rum he’d drunk was turning his stomach sour. That had to be the reason for this sick feeling. She was right; he was pretty good at wiggling free of any long-term commitments where women were concerned. He’d been doing it so long that freeing himself from entanglements had become second nature. But here was Sydney, offering to make it easy for him to walk away and he didn’t want to.

“Look, we should just talk about this for a minute. We’re both stuck here in New York tonight. Let’s go grab some dinner and discuss it—”

“I have plans.”

He laughed in spite of the tense situation. “No, you do not. If you’re going to lie to me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I don’t
want
to talk about it. I don’t
want
to have dinner with you. I want to go home, go to sleep, and pretend today never happened.”

“But it did. Come on, we’ll talk in the cab.”

“We’re going different places.”

“You live six blocks away from me.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes. This was one of those Sydney-details he knew that she didn’t know he knew. In all the time they’d spent out with their friends, he’d never let on he knew where she lived. They’d never split a cab home. He hadn’t dared offer because he didn’t want to chance her blistering rejection. But he knew she lived around the corner from him and he knew when she’d moved in, because he’d always paid much closer attention to Sydney than anybody realized, including her, apparently.

“I still don’t want to share a cab,” she said, peevishly.

“Okay, fine.” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Go on and run away, Sydney. But we’ll see each other again tomorrow and you’re gonna have to deal with me.”

She was next in line and a cab pulled up in front of her. “Yes, you’ll see me tomorrow in Mexico, Jesse, but by then I’m sure you’ll be chasing some new piece of ass and what happened back there will be the last thing on your mind.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “We’ll see about that. Have a safe flight, Syd. See you in Mexico.”

She glanced warily at him, but he just smiled at her, which seemed to be the one thing that unsettled her. Good. He planned to seriously unsettle Sydney once he caught up to her at the wedding. She’d been right that he’d spent years wiggling free of commitments, but he was starting to suspect he’d done so because there was only one person he’d wanted to catch him. He just had to get her to hold still first.

#

The wedding, in typical Marin style, was on the beach at sunset. Jesse’s flight had gone off without a hitch, but its arrival had still left him barely enough time to make it to his hotel, shower, dress, and make it to the beach. No time to track down Sydney and hash this thing out.

Things hadn’t started yet, but everybody was gathered at the top of the beach, getting organized. Wyatt was standing with Max and Andy, the other groomsmen, and behind them was a gaggle of bridesmaids, Marin, and Marin’s parents. He’d been best friends with Wyatt since freshman year, and Wyatt and Marin had been together since the start of sophomore year, so he was already well acquainted with the force of nature that was Marin’s mother. He’d actually found their group just by following the sound of Mrs. Shapiro’s voice. Marin was in a drapey white sundress, her choppy, highlighted hair windblown and sprinkled with flowers, and she was barefoot on the sand. By contrast, her mother was in a pink silk suit and heels that would not have been out of place at a country club, but that left her looking distinctly uncomfortable standing on the beach. When Jesse found them, Mrs. Shapiro was haranguing Marin about the wording in the ceremony.

“Mom,” Marin said, the tone of her voice telling him that she’d already had this conversation with her mother a million times. “It’s a civil ceremony. He’s not going to do the seven blessings in Hebrew. Mr. Arroyo doesn’t even
speak
Hebrew.”

“If you’d flown in Rabbi Shulman like I wanted, he’d speak Hebrew.”

“Mom—”

Then Sydney materialized from the group. Something inside Jesse flipped over and it was suddenly hard to catch his breath. God, she was gorgeous. Marin wanted nothing as traditional as bridesmaid’s dresses, of course, so all the girls were wearing something different. Sydney’s dress was black and slinky, just a sheath of shimmery fabric skimming and hugging her body, stopping just above her knees and held up with the thinnest little straps. He was pretty sure there was no bra under there. Her hair was down, a sleek dark curtain, with a small white orchid pinned to one side, just behind her ear. He wanted to go to her, grab her, and make her talk to him. Well, he wanted to kiss her first, maybe satisfy his curiosity about the bra, and
then
he wanted to talk to her. But this wasn’t the time or place, with the wedding just minutes from starting. He’d get her alone later and they’d hash this thing out.

Sydney slipped between Marin and her mother, taking Mrs. Shapiro’s arm. “Mrs. Shapiro, have you met the officiant yet? Mr. Arroyo just got here, and I’m sure he’d love to meet the mother of the bride.”

Marin shot Sydney a grateful look and Sydney winked at her.

“Oh, Sydney,” Mrs. Shapiro sighed, touching her hair. “Don’t you look pretty? I wish Marin would grow her hair out like this.”

“Are you kidding? Marin’s hair looks great on her. I could never pull that off. Don’t you think her dress is beautiful?” Sydney led Mrs. Shapiro away and Marin exhaled in relief. Marin and Sydney had grown up together in Westchester, best friends since they were little girls, which explained their continued friendship, even though their personalities were completely different. Marin’s mom adored Sydney; she called her the
shiksa
daughter she never had.

Wyatt spotted him and waved. “You finally made it!” Wyatt had started college as a clean-cut, All-American kid, but during freshman year, he’d “found himself,” growing out his shaggy blond hair and trading in polo shirts for baja sweaters and a bong. And then sophomore year, he’d met Marin, his counterculture soul mate. Wyatt and Jesse half-hugged. “Flight was okay this time?”

“Yeah, no problems today. Yesterday was…” He had no words for yesterday, in many ways. “Sorry I missed the rehearsal.”

“You didn’t miss much. You walk that way.” Wyatt pointed toward the beach. “Stop when you get to the water, and stand there while Marin and me get hitched. It’s a tough gig.”

Jesse greeted Max, who he knew from college, and Andy, Wyatt’s childhood friend, who he’d crossed paths with once or twice. Like the bridesmaids, there were no matching tuxes to deal with. The guys were all in their own suits, and Max had already shucked his jacket and loosened his tie.

“I didn’t realize you and Sydney were booked on the same flight yesterday. Hope that wasn’t too awkward for you.”

Jesse’s mind spun, remembering her breasts in that black lace bra, his hands on her thighs, shoving up her skirt, the breathy moan when she came… “Uh, no. Not awkward at all.”

A high-pitched squeal came from behind Wyatt. “Jesse? You finally made it!”

It was Briana, Marin’s little sister. Except she wasn’t so little anymore. He knew she’d started college, but he didn’t connect the dots until now. At some point since he’d last seen her, Briana had grown up. And gotten hot.

She skirted past Wyatt and threw her arms around Jesse. “Hey!”

Jesse fell back a step, not expecting the hug. He knew Briana, but only a little and it had been years. Apparently she remembered him better than he remembered her. She was wearing a tight, bright pink dress that was doing its damnedest to showcase her admittedly fantastic breasts. Breasts that were currently plastered to his chest as Briana ran her hands up under his lapels and shot him a blatant come-on stare from under her lashes. Her heavily highlighted hair was curled into fat waves, artfully arranged, and sprayed stiff, and her lips were slicked with pink lipstick that matched her dress. She had on a pair of strappy gold platform heels, completely absurd in the sand. She had none of Sydney’s simple, sexy appeal. But she seemed really into him, if he was reading this right, and her cues were kind of hard to miss.

“Hey, Briana. Long time, no see.” He decided not to tell her she looked great. That was an opening she didn’t need. He also didn’t hug her back, he just awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. After a long, uncomfortable moment, she dropped back down on the sand, but she didn’t back away from him.

“You look great, Jesse. You always do.” She reached out and pinched the fabric of his dress shirt, giving it a flirtatious tug as she lowered her chin and smiled up at him.

“Uh, thanks. How’s college going?” College was a safe, non-sexual topic.

“Oh, fine. My sorority just did this casino night fund raiser and it was
so
fun—”

He tuned her out, glancing frantically over her shoulder for someone who might possibly need him for something. Instead, he spotted Sydney, arms crossed, staring at Briana with that impassive expression he’d never been any good at reading. He smiled slightly at her, but she didn’t smile back. She turned and walked away. Fuck. This was not good. She already thought he was a player. Having Briana hanging all over him was not going to help that situation.

“Hey, Briana, have you met Max? He went to college with me and Wyatt.”

Briana looked startled for a moment, but before she could say anything, he took her elbow and turned her toward Max. Max was more than ready to appreciate everything Briana had on display, his eyes taking in the tiny pink dress, the breasts, the bright lips. He was practically salivating.

Jesse skirted behind Briana before she could see him leaving and set off to find Sydney. He had to make some attempt at connecting with her before the wedding or it might be hours before he could get her alone. He was waylaid by Mrs. Shapiro, who had to kiss him on both cheeks, tell him how handsome he was, and that his parents were lucky he had such a good job, not like Wyatt, selling T-shirts at music festivals. He didn’t have the time to explain to her that Wyatt’s online start-up selling organic hemp clothing had grown 1500 percent in the two years since he’d founded it. Wyatt, despite the long hair and excessive weed consumption, would probably end up being the most successful person from their graduating class. But that was a story for another day. Right now, Jesse needed to find Sydney.

“Hey, Mrs. Shapiro, have you seen Sydney?”

“She went to the bungalow with the rest of the girls. I hope she’s helping Marin with that hair. That Sydney, she’s so gorgeous. I can’t believe she’s still single at her age.”

Sydney was twenty-four, but apparently that meant she was beyond all hope in Mrs. Shapiro’s eyes. “Maybe she just hasn’t met the right guy yet,” he said with a shrug. Or she’s met him and hates him. But Jesse was working on that. “Hey, Mrs. Shapiro, I need to go tell her something. I’ll see you for the ceremony.”

“Tell Marin we have to start in ten minutes or she’ll miss the sunset and all the pictures will be too dark.”

“Will do.”

He found the bungalow, a little wooden hut at the top of the beach, where the girls were doing last minute touch ups, and poked his head inside. Marin was lounging in a beach chair, looking utterly unconcerned about her impending wedding, swinging one bare foot in the air as she chatted with Sydney and Caitlin, the other bridesmaid. It was Caitlin’s hair Sydney was working on.

“This freaking humidity,” Caitlin muttered. “I spent an hour curling it, and by the time I got down here to the beach, it had gone all frizzy. Marin, why couldn’t you get married in a nice, normal hotel ballroom?”

“You’re going to thank me when we get to the reception and we’re partying on the most perfect beach in the world under the stars.”

“I’m not going to be in the mood for partying if my hair looks like a haystack.”

“It won’t,” Sydney said, tugging a few more strands into place. “This is going to look so pretty on you, Caitlin. You look great with your hair up.”

“You think?”

“Sure. Your face just pops when your hair is pulled back.” Sydney tucked and smoothed, and then nestled some orchids she pulled from her own bouquet into Caitlin’s hair. “There. Take a look.”

Caitlin examined herself in a hand mirror. “Sydney, you’re a lifesaver. Thanks so much.”

Sydney shrugged dismissively. “It’s really no problem. We should probably get going.”

That snapped Jesse out of his reverie. He’d gotten so caught up in watching Sydney that he forgot he’d come to talk to her. He’d been surprised by her kindness, her gentle smiles. After all these years of her sniping at him, he’d almost forgotten she was nice. That sounded horrible, but she never showed that side of herself to him, so it was hard to remember there was more to her. Of course she was nice. She’d been lifelong friends with Marin. Mrs. Shapiro thought of her like another daughter. She was the one saving the day and keeping everybody calm before the wedding. Sydney had a generous heart.