A Girl Walks Into a Wedding Page 7

  Straight after breakfast, Cee Cee roped you into wedding detail. You spent the morning double-checking that the team of makeup artists and hair stylists was on track for tomorrow, and helping Cee Cee count tea-lights and fold serviettes into fan shapes. While she did battle with the florist, you took delivery of the baskets of doves she planned to free after the ceremony (somehow you resisted the urge to contact the RSPB). Cee Cee kept you so busy, you didn’t even get a chance to talk to Jane about her cold feet issues.

  As you and Cee Cee measured the cutlery on the tables to ensure that the place settings were all precisely equidistant, Domino had wandered in. ‘That boyfriend of yours is a marvel,’ Dom told you. ‘He’s organised a game of cricket for all the kids.’ You looked out of the window to see Steve gently bowling underarm to Manhattan or Paris or Tokyo, the other toddlers happily playing at his feet. As you watched, Cat and Lisa joined them, and Steve said something that made Lisa roar with laughter.

  ‘He’s been a godsend,’ Noe said. ‘It’s the first time I’ve had a break in months. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without him.’

  Then, later, as you attempted to mediate a row between Cee Cee and the hotel chef (the chocolate on the profiteroles was the wrong shade, apparently), you caught a glimpse of Mikey, Bruno and Steve sitting at a table in the breakfast room.

  Mikey and Bruno were laughing at something Steve was saying, and then both of them bumped fists with him. It was difficult to hear exactly what was going on what with Cee Cee’s shrieking and the chef’s swearing, but you caught Bruno thanking Steve profusely. Odd and odder.

  Now you check your makeup one last time, and make your way to the room where the rehearsal dinner is being held, passing JD en route. He winks at you, and you blush and give him a small wave. At least someone had a good time last night.

  Jane is looking horribly hung-over, Tom only slightly better. You’re introduced to Tom’s father – a pilot who has the look of an action hero – and take your seat between Bruno and Steve.

  Steve smiles at you sadly – he’s definitely got the message. You feel a twinge of guilt. You’ve been behaving shabbily. The least you could have done was to say something to his face, rather than avoiding him. But the first course is being served, so you can’t take him aside right this minute. According to the menu, the tiny tower of food arranged on your plate is roast endive soufflé on sage foam with courgette batons. It’s garnished with more accessories than the average wedding guest.

  ‘Steve,’ you whisper as soon as the waiters have finished handing round the starter, ‘there’s something I need to—’

  You’re interrupted by the sound of a knife being tinged against a glass and Father Declan stands up. ‘Dear friends, we’re gathered for a wonderful occasion, in which Jane and Tom will be united in happiness.’ He pauses and smiles at Jane, who is looking really strained. ‘But before we begin, I’d like to share something with you. Among our guests is someone truly selfless. Someone with a heart of gold.’

  At first you think that Father Declan is looking straight at you – surely helping Cee Cee fold serviettes doesn’t warrant this type of praise – but then you realise he’s looking at Steve. ‘Steve here has offered to donate a sizeable amount to one of my charities.’ The priest looks troubled for a moment. ‘There have been times in my life when it’s been a struggle to keep the faith, but it’s people like Steve and their boundless generosity who restore it. To Steve!’

  Everyone beams and applauds, and Mikey claps Steve on the back.

  ‘He also helped Bruno and me with our speeches,’ Mikey says. ‘Thanks for that, mate. Don’t know what we would have done without you.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ cries Noe. Even Lisa is murmuring and nodding in approval.

  Have you fallen into some sort of parallel universe?

  Cee Cee gets to her feet. ‘Thank you, Father Declan. And thank you, Steve, for your suggestions on flower placement. I also don’t know what I would have done without you! Now, I thought I’d run through tomorrow’s schedule so that everyone is on the same page. At 9.15 a.m. sharp, hair and makeup for the wedding party. 9.50, bride’s makeup and manicure. 10.45 a.m., people are to make their way to the chapel …’

  You tune her out. Could you be wrong about Steve? Everyone seems to think he’s some sort of god. But … that ghastly taste in music … and all that self-help nonsense!

  ‘I can’t do this!’ Jane’s wail cuts through your thoughts and Cee Cee’s babble. She leaps up from her chair and runs from the room.

  ‘Jane!’ Your heart almost breaks at the expression on Tom’s face as he hares after her. You move to get up, but Bruno murmurs, ‘Better let them sort it out.’

  The other guests are all looking stunned. After a long pause, there’s a general stampede for the bar. Cee Cee is pacing up and down, wringing her hands, Noe fluttering around her.

  It’s only then that you realise Steve is nowhere to be seen.

  You go off in search of him. Eventually, following the sound of voices, you find the three of them on the back veranda, overlooking a trickling fountain and yet more roses. Tom and Jane are sitting on a bench with Steve. You hang back and eavesdrop for a few seconds.

  ‘All that matters is that you’re best friends,’ Steve is saying. ‘That’s all you need in a relationship. The rest is window-dressing.’

  Both Tom and Jane are crying. ‘We’ve got some talking to do,’ Jane says. ‘Thanks, Steve.’ She gives him a small, sad smile, then she and Tom walk off into the night, heads together, his arm around her shoulders.

  You want to support your friend, but it’s clear she and Tom need their space. You hope they work it out – seeing that expression on Tom’s face as Jane fled told you everything you needed to know about their relationship. He loves her, and cold feet or not, you’re sure she feels the same way.

  You join Steve on the veranda. ‘Mind if I sit down?’

  He looks at you and squares his shoulders. ‘I know what you’re going to say. I’m not stupid. I know I came on too strong.’

  You mumble an apology for avoiding him.

  ‘Do me a favour,’ he says. ‘Tell me – what was it that really turned you off me? We started out so well.’

  Where to begin? ‘Well, there’s the calling me “babe” thing.’

  He raises his hands in acknowledgement. ‘You’re right. That was a bit much. It’s what my dad used to call my mum – my parents died a few years ago – so it doesn’t have the same cheesy connotation for me it does for everyone else. I guess I just got carried away. I really felt we had a connection.’

  Okay. You’re prepared to buy that. Now for the bigger issue. ‘And then there’s all that YES U CAN, MAN! stuff.’

  He looks surprised. ‘What about it?’

  ‘Um … To be honest, it did put me off a bit.’

  He shrugs. ‘I guess everyone’s different. I showed my DVD to Lisa, Bruno, Cat and Father Declan, and they all found it hilarious.’

  Wait. ‘Hilarious? You wanted them to find it hilarious?’

  ‘Sure. And I don’t think they were pretending to find it funny. Bruno’s offered to flight it on one of his comedy shows.’

  It finally hits you. ‘You mean … it’s a parody?’

  Steve looks at you as if you’re insane. ‘Of course! I’ve been trying to get into comedy for ages. I thought you’d appreciate it. Especially after you chose that Will Ferrell movie for our first date.’

  Now you’re feeling really stupid. ‘I thought you did life coaching for corporate companies or something,’ you say.

  He laughs. ‘God, no. I’m a filmmaker and an actor. Work’s been a bit slow lately, so I’ve been making these awful training videos for corporates, and I decided to take the piss out of them. I’m lucky enough to get steady royalties for an ad I did a while back, but I can’t just sit around all day – I needed a project I could really sink my teeth into.’

  ‘And the singing in the car and the terrible taste in mus
ic? Was that all part of it?’

  He looks confused. At least you were on the money there.

  ‘I think it’s best if I leave now,’ he says. ‘I feel a bit like a hanger-on now that it’s obviously over between us.’ He gets to his feet.

  ‘Steve … wait,’ you say.

  He hesitates.

  What are you going to tell him? Can you get over Babe-gate and his taste in music, and give him another chance – that’s if he’ll have you? Or are you willing to let him be the one who got away?

  If you ask Steve to stay, go to page 114.

  If you decide to let him go, go to page 116.

  You ask Steve to stay

  ‘Steve …’ you begin. ‘I’ve been a real idiot. I honestly thought you were some weirdo self-help guru. With the t-shirts and everything …’

  He laughs. ‘I can see why that would be a bit of a turn-off.’

  You take a deep breath. The last thing you want is to come across as desperate, but what if you’ve made a huge mistake? As far as you can tell, his only real faults are poor taste in music and endearments, and those are easy enough to fix. And you definitely felt something for him on the journey here. Even the setting is on the side of romance, with the fountain tinkling quietly in the fragrant night air. Surely it’s a sign that you and Steve should start afresh. ‘Is there any chance I can convince you to stay? It would be a shame to leave now. Everyone will be so disappointed.’

  ‘Including you?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes,’ you say.

  He moves towards you and you tilt your face up to him, shutting your eyes, expecting to feel his lips on yours.

  Nothing happens.

  ‘No,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work. I can’t believe you thought I was serious about that “Yes U Can” stuff. I just can’t be with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour.’

  He puts out a hand and shakes your unresisting paw briskly. ‘Good luck, and I hope we can stay friends. Say goodbye to all the others for me.’

  You’re speechless as you watch him and his perfect behind stride away. You want to shout after him, ‘Of course I have a sense of humour, I’m flipping hilarious! Come back here and I’ll prove I’m even funnier than … than …’ but your mind has gone completely blank, so you just stand rooted to the spot.

  What just happened there? Did you really manage to chase away the most suitable guy you’ve met in months? Unable to face rejoining the others, you decide to creep off to bed and lick your wounds. Tempting as it is to drink yourself into a coma, it looks like Jane will need you tomorrow. You’d better keep a clear head.

  Go to page 130.

  You’ve decided to let Steve go

  ‘Steve …’ you begin. ‘I’m sorry it has to end like this.’

  He shrugs. ‘I knew I was taking a chance coming here. We should probably have taken it slower. Still friends?’

  ‘Still friends.’ You smile.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he says. ‘Before I head back to town – you want to watch my DVD? I’ve been looking forward to showing it to you.’

  You think about it. Jane and Tom are busy sorting out their issues – you want to be there for your friend, but it’s obvious she needs space right now – and it would beat returning to the rehearsal dinner and dealing with Cee Cee, who will no doubt have a million hysterical questions about Tom and Jane. ‘Sure,’ you say.

  You follow him to the room, neither of you speaking. He steps back to let you in first, and as your arms brush, you feel a frisson of the original chemistry crackling in the air between you. Just good friends, you tell yourself. The last thing you need at the moment is more complications.

  Steve orders you both club sandwiches from room service, sits next to you on the bed – leaving a ‘just good friends’ gap – and hits play.

  You haven’t laughed this much in ages – your sides are still aching. Steve has managed to parody self-help speak perfectly, Sacha Baron Cohen-style, and without making the mistake of going for all the obvious punch-lines. You have to admit it’s been huge fun.

  ‘I can see why Bruno would want this on his show,’ you say. ‘It’s fantastic.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Steve says, reaching over and wiping a smear of mayonnaise from the corner of your mouth. There’s no mistaking the buzz of sexual tension and unfinished business between the two of you.

  Next thing you know, you’re leaning into his mouth and kissing him. He pulls back in surprise for a second, then presses into you, cradling your head in his hands as he kisses you back, his tongue urgent in your mouth. In all your irritation, you had forgotten how good it feels to be kissed by him. When he shifts away at last, you reach for him again, desperate for more of him, all of him.

  You find yourselves kneeling on the bed facing each other. As you kiss, you unbutton his shirt, and he pulls your dress up at the hem, but has to wait when he reaches your head because you don’t want to stop kissing him for even a second. When you finally pause so he can pull the dress all the way off, you reach for his belt frantically and undo it, then whip it out of its loops and throw it across the room. His jeans follow, leaving him in boxer shorts that barely contain his now sizeable erection.

  Steve lays you back on the bed, places a pillow under your head and straddles you. Then he runs his head over you, his nose tracking over your cheek and down the side of your ear, making every hair on your body stand on end. He tracks down your neck and chest, his nose still barely grazing you.

  ‘Touch me,’ you beg. And he shakes his head, his fringe stroking your collarbone, a maddening tease.

  He unclips your bra in the front, releasing your breasts, and you can feel his warm breath on your nipple, but he still doesn’t touch you – instead he keeps roaming your body with the tip of his nose and his eyelashes and his fringe, and you think you might die if he doesn’t touch you soon.

  So you drag him down onto the bed and roll over onto him, sitting astride him, feeling his hard cock pressing against you. You rotate your hips, savouring the pressure against your pussy. He holds your hip with one hand, reaching for your breast with the other, and you arch your back as he massages it between his fingers, the bud of your nipple instantly hard between his fingers.

  He stops briefly to reach across the bed for his toiletry bag, pulling out a condom and something else in plastic packaging. He puts the condom on the bedside table, and sits up with you still straddling his lap, then opens his hand to reveal what he’s holding.

  ‘What is it?’ you ask.

  ‘It’s a vibrator,’ he says, tearing the packaging open. It’s not like any one you’ve ever seen before. It’s pink and made out of silicone and it fits neatly in his palm. It’s got a circular loop, with a bullet-shaped nugget at the top. In fact, it looks like a ring you might wear on your finger, only bigger.

  ‘Here, feel,’ he says, dropping it into your open hand. Then he presses on the side of the bullet and it comes alive, vibrating against your skin. He presses it a second time and the vibrating ramps up so that the little toy is bouncing in your palm.

  If you want to try out the toy, go to page 121.

  If you’d rather keep things simple, go to page 125.

  You want to try out the toy

  You don’t know what Steve’s going to do with his vibrating toy, but you can’t wait to find out. He presses the bullet again and it stills itself. Then he pushes you gently back onto the giant bed, places his arms on either side of your head, and dips down to kiss you again. You surrender yourself to his mouth for what feels like hours. Then he reaches for the condom and takes it out of its packaging. You help him slip it over his rigid cock.

  Next, he takes the small toy and buzzes it back to life again, sending a thrill of curiosity racing down your spine. He slips the expanding silicone ring over the tip of his cock and rolls it all the way down over the condom, making sure that the vibrating bullet is on the top side of his penis.

  Kneeling on the bed, he parts your legs, and you
feel the tip of his cock nudging against your pussy, the slight sensation of the tremors from the base of his cock teasing you. He guides the head up and down your slit, not entering you yet. Then he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, his hot tongue lapping at the hard nub of it. You buck your hips, eager to get him to slip inside you, and to your relief, he does.

  The further inside you he pushes, the more intensely you can feel the toy’s vibrations, until he’s all the way into you, and you can finally feel the full effect of the small bullet vibrating at speed right up against your clit. He pushes your knee up against your chest so he can penetrate even deeper. Then he pulls almost completely out of you, but only momentarily, before thrusting back inside you so that the bullet rubs up against your clit once more. The buzzing against your clit and the walls of your pussy send your whole body into a frenzy.

  You tilt your head back into the softness of the duvet and hold onto his shoulders, urging him on, harder, faster, the vibrations coursing through the whole of your lower body. The pleasure builds up in you with every thrust, first rising, then surging, the pressure is almost unbearable until you finally come, shouting out so loudly the entire hotel can probably hear you.

  Steve rolls onto his back beside you, and once you’ve recovered a little, you straddle him, riding him reverse cowboy style this time, so that he can slip his cock effortlessly back inside you. And because you’re facing away from him, the bullet of the vibrator is no longer focused on your clit, which is swollen and sensitive from your monster orgasm, but is concentrated on the back wall of your pussy, sending delicious volts through a part of you that you’re not sure has been stimulated like this before.

  You grip his thighs and rotate your hips as you push back against each of his thrusts, relishing the sound of the bullet buzzing and his skin slapping against yours. You can’t believe it, but the intensity is rising inside you once again as he holds onto your bottom, kneading at it, until you finally come a second time, this time squeezing your eyes tight and curling your toes, unable to tell which of your two orgasms was more powerful.