#63 WAP and tight jeans
Caroline’s wedding comes at the perfect time for Dshawn and me. We could both use a little pick-me-up. The bachelorette party was fun as well, of course – because who doesn’t like a hot stripped grinding on you? – but after the party, life just went to shit. Work is hard because replacing Hollister is turning into a goddamn nightmare, and Dshawn is doing so damn well that I hardly see him. I used to be the one working too much, but now he’s the one always gone. He already had to leave town two times the past few weeks, leaving me all alone in our apartment.
It’s stupid, but I miss him when I crawl into bed alone, and his smell is there – oranges and deodorant – but he isn’t. When he left for three days, I even used his body lotion just to smell like him. I’m fucking pathetic. I never used to get attached to guys, and here I am, a total mess without my man.
At least I patched things up with Francesca. I went clubbing with her two times already, even though I was way too tired for it, and she slept over a few nights as well.
Dshawn and I both made sure to have three consecutive days off for the wedding, so we could drive up there the day before and take off the day after, not having to rush.
The day before the wedding, Dshawn and I go out to dinner with Nathan and Caroline, who are ridiculously chill about the fact that they’ll be walking down the aisle tomorrow. A few other friends are present as well: Tiffany and Hillary, Sean and Jillian, Angelo and Gina.
“Stop asking me if I’m nervous!” Caroline says, giving me her teacher death glare. “You’re making me feel like there is actually something to be nervous about!”
“Do you want a list?” I ask, thoroughly enjoying how easy it is to rile her up. “1: You could fall on your face as you walk down the aisle. 2: The wedding dress might not fit anymore. 3: People could get blinded by the sheer ugliness of Rose’s dress. 4: Nathan could leave you at the altar. 5: Someone could yell rejection!”
“6: Shaughna could single-handedly give you cold feet,” Dshawn adds, rubbing my back with a fond expression on his face.
“7: You could lose one of the rings,” I just go on, laughing at Caroline’s stressed expression.
“8: The maid of honor could end up in a body bag because she was murdered by the groom,” Nathan threatens, looking at his fiancé with worry in his eyes.
I laugh and wag my finger at him. “You don’t want to end up back in jail, do you, Nathanial?”
The short, broad Italian guy called Angelo laughs, holding up his beer in a toast to me. “I like you, weird blonde girl.”
“I think you’re an asshole, cocky Italian dude,” I reply, thinking back to that phone call Caroline told me all about his nasty remarks about her being a fickle little slut. That man should not be in the wedding at all, let alone be the best man. Nathan has shit taste, really. First Elise as his first wife, and now this Angelo dude as his best friend. At least he did the right thing proposing to Caroline. She’s the best thing that ever happened to him.
Angelo’s wife Gina grins at my comment and she smacks her husband on the back of his head, making him frown at her. When he looks at her, he totally transforms. It’s obvious he loves her just as much as Nathan loves Caroline. Maybe there is a different side to the Italian asshole after all, since Gina actually seems like a lovely fiery woman, with her heart in the right place.
“9: The best man gets murdered by the maid of honor,” I say, going on with my list. “10: Annabel decides that she’s not over Nathan and throws herself at him.”
“Please,” Dshawn scoffs. “She’s riding Aston’s monstrous cock. No way she’s still missing Nathan. No offence, dude.”
We all stare at Dshawn, surprised by his words. That is something I would say, but Dshawn is usually better behaved when he’s with people he only just met. Nathan looks a little uncomfortable with the whole thing, and Caroline looks bemused, throwing me a knowing look. We both know that she heard Aston and Annabel fuck a few times, because their moans make it all the way to the back yard of her old apartment. I still don’t know what those two are truly up to, but they’ve been at it for a while now, which is quite surprising. Caroline said that they’re even attending the wedding together tomorrow, but Aston hasn’t opened up to me about it. I think Dshawn knows more than her lets on, but I haven’t cracked him yet.
“Monstrous cocks are actually not that great,” Hillary comments dryly, putting an arm around Tiffany and winking at Dshawn. “I prefer some WAP.”
“Some what?” Nathan asks, frowning at her.
“Wet-Ass Pussy!” Caroline, Dshawn, Hillary and I all yell at the same time, cracking up.
Tiffany is blushing fiercely, but everyone else is just laughing. Sean, Jillian, Angelo, Gina and Nathan look like they are feeling really old right now.
“Maybe that’s how Caroline got that ring of hers,” Hillary goes on, gesturing to the large diamond ring on Caroline’s left hand.
Nathan is still frowning, so I recite a few lines from the song for him: “I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage. Make it cream, make me scream. Out in public, make a scene. I don’t cook, I don’t clean. But let me tell you how I got this ring.” I laugh at his appalled expression, he’s so easy to rile up, just like Caroline.
“Let’s make a toast,” Hillary says, grinning at me wickedly. “To WAP!”
“There’s some whores in this house!” I reply, holding up my wine glass as well.
Basically, all the young people at the table raise their glasses, while Nathan and his friends look like they want to disappear into a whole in the ground somewhere. There are some other patrons of the restaurant looking our way, frowning at how noisy we are.
“Oh God,” Tiffany grunts, sliding down in her chair a little, trying to hide. “I just spotted Yagmur’s parents… Oh man…”
“Chill,” Hillary tells her girlfriend. “She won’t be in your class next year. Who cares? You’ve got the stop worrying about parents seeing you out and about. They already know you’re a lesbian. Who cares if they known you’re a nasty ho with a wet-ass pussy?”
“Stop talking,” Tiffany hisses, het cheeks heating up even more. “I don’t want anyone to overhear.”
“Okay…” Nathan says, blinking a few times. “Maybe we could go back to being adults not?”
“You’re the one marrying someone half your age,” I remind him. “You made your bed, now lie in it, Nathaniel.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hear Angelo mutter to Gina. “Her friends are exactly how Nathan described them.”
I grin, knowing fully well that Nathan is not as innocent as he pretends to be. He enjoyed drinking and partying with us at New Year’s Eve a lot more than he expected to, and I caught them having sex on my couch the day after. Besides… I wonder how much Angelo and Sean know about his sex life. I know everything, of course, since Caroline has gotten less uptight about sex since she met him, and she always tells me everything. Handcuffs, biting, smacking, clit flicking, nipple clamps, blindfolds, even public places like a bathroom… Yeah, they’re freaky in the best way.
After dinner, we all go our separate ways to get some sleep before the wedding tomorrow. Dshawn and I are staying at Caroline’s old place, where Hillary is now living. Hill is staying with Tiffany tonight, so her place would otherwise be empty. I never gave Caroline her spare key back, so we can still get in. I should really leave it for Hillary at the end of the weekend, because I don’t know her well enough to have her key. Sean and Jillian are staying in the guest room at Nathan’s house, and Angelo and Gina are with me and Dshawn. They will take the bedroom and we will stay in the guest room, like we used to do when Caroline still lived there.
The vibe is a little awkward when the four of us walk into the dark apartment, where most of Caroline’s old furniture still is, since she left it for Hillary. Her stuff is gone, of course, replaced by piles and piles of Hillary’s clothes that are lying everywhere, and lots of empty coffee cups and crusty plates. The girl is, apparently, a slob.
“We should have stayed at a hotel,” Angelo complains, grabbing some clothes from the couch and throwing them on the floor so he can sit down.
I frown at him. His wife is already walking around, tidying up a little and making sure that all four of us can take seat around the coffee table. “Are you always such a big lazy cry-baby, Angelo?”
“Yes,” Gina replies before he can, grinning.
Dshawn gives me a kiss and takes off for the bathroom to get a shower. I grab a beer from the fridge and hand one to Angelo, sitting down next to him on the couch and putting on the TV. There isn’t much space next to him, to be honest, because the man may not be tall, but he is ripped. He must live at the gym or something. He’s bigger and broader than even Dshawn and Aston, who are both gods in my opinion.
“Why are you staring at me?” Angelo grumbles, his eyes flicking over to me.
“No reason,” I reply with a shrug, taking a swig of my beer. My phone buzzes and I look down, frowning when I see that it’s an unknown number texting me. I open the message and my breath catches. This has got to be some kind of joke.
You look good in those tight jeans, Shay.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck. No one calls me Shay. No one. Well, one person, but that was seven years ago. Seven goddamn years. I haven’t heard or read that nickname since he left me. Who the fuck is texting me? It can’t be him, can it? I don’t even have the same number anymore!
“Are you okay?” Angelo asks me, putting a warm hand on my arm.
I flinch away from him, not wanting anyone touching me right now.
“Hey,” Gina says, kneeling down in front of the couch. “Shaughna? Honey, keep breathing. Are you hyperventilating?”
Yeah, I definitely am. My breathing is speeding up so rapidly that I’m gasping for air, not able to stop it from happening. Black spots are already appearing in front of my eyes. If I don’t get a grip soon, I am going to faint.
“Get her man,” Gina tells Angelo. “Now!”
A minute later, the familiar smell of oranges engulfs me as Dshawn’s wet hands move over my arms, softly rubbing them. “Baby, breathe,” he says in a calm tone. “In… Out… That’s it. Just keep breathing. He isn’t here. I am. No one is going to hurt you.”
Slowly but surely, he pulls me back from my panic attack. When I finally regain my vision, I see him kneeling in front of the couch in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s dripping wet, getting water all over the floor and furniture. He was in the middle of his shower when Angelo called him out of there to take care of me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, happy that my voice sounds relatively normal. “I’m okay.”
“What happened?” Gina asks. She’s on the couch next to me now, while Angelo is standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest.
I pick up my phone from the floor where I dropped it, wiping off the droplets of water Dshawn got all over it. Thank God I’ve got a waterproof model, or it would be ruined. I open the text back up and show it to Dshawn, who frowns.
“Whose number is that?” he asks, looking up at me with worry in his big brown eyes.
I shake my head. “I don’t know… but he used to call me Shay.”
“Fuck,” Dshawn curses. “I thought that fucker was in Dubai?”
“Me too,” I whisper. “But who else could it be?”
“Was he at the restaurant?” Dshawn mumbles, talking to himself more than me. “What does he even want? Why now?”
Angelo takes a step forwards, cracking his knuckles. “Who do I need to fuck up?” he asks, catching onto the fact that there is some guy messing with me.
“Angel,” Gina says with a sigh, motioning for him to sit down. “You don’t even know what’s going on.”
“Oh, this guy deserves to get fucked up,” Dshawn assures her. “I’d gladly put him in the ground myself.” He realizes what he’s saying then and looks at me, squeezing my shoulder, silently apologizing for threatening to use violence to fix a problem. He knows how I feel about that, although I have to admit that Melchior should be in an ice-cold grave. Sounds like the perfect place for him.
“It’s not him,” I decide, deleting the text so I can just ignore it. “Someone is just messing with me. He doesn’t have my number, we haven’t spoken in seven years, and he’s not even in the country. And everyone knows I love wearing tight jeans, so it’s just a lucky guess. I overreacted. I’m okay. I just want to shower and go to bed.”
“I can put a mattress in the hallway and sleep in front of the door,” Angelo offers, still looking menacing. “No one gets past me. Trust me.”
That’s actually really sweet, in a weird way. I’m starting to like this guy. Caroline explained to me that the reason he was so nasty to her at first was just because he’s protective of Nathan, like he is of all his friends. The way he steps into the role of big scary protector just because some girl he barely even knows is panicking is pretty sweet. He’s not that bad.
“Nah, I’m fine,” I assure him. “I’ve got my own muscular biker sex god right here.”
“Your what?” Angelo asks, blinking a few times in surprise.
Dshawn laughs and pulls me up from the couch. “She means me. Come on, honey, let’s get you into the shower.”
He stays with me in the bathroom while I shower, drying off and brushing his teeth while I get cleaned up. He wraps a large towel around me and walks me to the spare bedroom, helping me into one of his shirts to sleep in. I step into some panties and finally crash onto the bed, sighing deeply.
“Don’t tell Caroline,” I tell Dshawn when he crawls in beside me, hugging me to his chest. “She knows about all the other stuff, the lilies, my panic attacks, but I don’t want her to worry about me on her wedding day.”
“I’ll worry for two,” he vows, kissing my cheeks and then my mouth. “Now sleep, baby.”