Don't Kiss the Bride

I make my way back to the pool table, throwing a look over my shoulder to find her still watching me even though she’s mingled back in the fold with her friends.

Kyle stares at her as we continue our game, attempting to hijack her attention. He fails. Red only has eyes for me, it seems.

Picking up women has been a competitive sport for Kyle since we were in high school. I could give two shits which one of us wins the girl. It’s not that important to me to get laid every weekend.

He, on the other hand, has to leave with a different woman every week.

When we finish up our game, Jolie and a blonde friend approach us and split like a wishbone—the blonde moving to Kyle and the redhead sidling up to me.

“You going to tell me your name now, handsome?” she asks.

I finish off my drink. “You already know my name.”

She stares up at me with intoxicated eyes, leaning her hip against mine. “Something tells me that’s a nickname.”

“That’s all you’re gettin’.”

Her fingers touch the ends of my hair. “Do you come here a lot?”

Jolie obviously isn’t winning any points for original conversation.

“You tryin’ to pick me up or put me to sleep?” I ask jokingly.

She giggles. “You’re a hard one, aren’t you?”

“I might be if you weren’t boring me, darlin’.”

To my left, Kyle has his tongue down the blonde’s throat and his hand up her shirt. Jolie watches them kiss, then licks her own lips.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she offers. “There’s a motel down the street.”

There was once a time I spent so many nights at that motel I’m surprised my name’s not on one of the doors instead of a number.

It’s been a while. My hand could use a rest.

I’m just about to grab her waist and steer her to the back door when Skylar’s smile flashes through my mind.

How her eyes sparkled when she handed me the turkey sandwich earlier—made exactly how I like it with a light layer of spicy mustard—even though the color and smell of it makes her gag.

I chew the inside of my cheek.

Jolie’s hand slinks down to my wrist.

“C’mon,” she whispers. “You can find out if my hair color’s real.”

I blow out a gusty sigh. “I’m gonna have to pass. I’m kinda involved with someone.”

Her lips press against my cheek and she whispers, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Scandalous indiscretion used to turn me on.

But now, it just feels dirty.

“I’ll see ya around, red.”

I don’t look back this time when I walk away and head to the bar. Staring at the cross-eyed possum, I nurse a soda while I wait for Kyle to return from his rendezvous in the parking lot.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks when he comes back. “That redhead was smokin’. I would’ve taken her over the blonde.”

We jostle through the crowd to a small, private table, passing Jolie and her friend who are now hitting on two other guys. She smiles at me and I just shake my head and laugh.

“Eh, I’m just not into her,” I say when we sit down.

He throws back his Mind Eraser shot and grimaces. “How could you not be into her?”

I lean back in my chair and run my fingers over the condensation on my glass. “I gotta tell you something wild I did, man.”

“Now you’re talkin’”

“It’s not a sex story, asshole.”

“Oh.” He coughs and straightens. “Sorry.”

“I got married,” I blurt out.

He stares at me, face frozen, then busts out laughing. “Good one, Lucky. That’s not even fuckin’ funny.”

“I’m serious.” I give him a deadpan look and he slowly stops laughing.

“Wait… come on.” He blinks, waiting for me to admit I’m joking. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

“Back the fuck up. To who?”

I’ll probably regret spilling my guts to Kyle in the morning, but he’s my friend and I feel like I need to tell someone. He has his moments when he’s not a total dick.

“No one you know,” I lie, deciding not to tell him it’s Skylar. He doesn’t need to know that she’s only eighteen.

“So, who is she?”

“Just a girl I met. But we’re not together. I married her because she was in a bad situation.”

“Holy shit, did she need a green card?”

“No, she lives here in town. She’s got some health issues and needed insurance. She was living in a really shitty, unsafe situation, so I said… why the fuck not? I’ll help her out.”

He grabs the edge of the table. “Have you lost your mind, man? You fucking hate the idea of marriage.”

“I know, but it’s not real. It’s just an arrangement. On paper.”

He stares at me and chugs his beer. “I’m gonna need another shot.”

“I think you had enough.”

“Lemme get this straight. You married some chick just to give her health insurance. And now she’s living in your house?”