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“What if I want a Star Trek themed wedding?” The corner of her lip curls upward. “There is an ‘other’ option for suggestions on this questionnaire.”
“I’ll wear a gold shirt.”
“And if I wanna walk down the aisle to the opening song?”
“We’ll hire an orchestra to play it.”
“And if I wanna say our vows in Klingon?”
“I’ll start studying between every conference call.”
Girlish giggles freely floating through the air are followed by her leaning over to plant her lips on top of mine. In tandem, they spread apart to allow light touches that almost instantly become even lighter teasing.
Teasing that leads to me abandoning the pen in my possession.
Knocking away the booklet.
Sliding the laptop onto the coffee table where my feet were just resting in order to safely lower Bryn onto her back.
Cover her body with mine.
Allow one hand to slip underneath the thin fabric to glide upwards across her silky, soft skin that feels like it’s been forever since I touched.
Right as my thumb manages to brush her bra protected nipple, a familiar voice grouses, “Come on, guys. I sit on that couch!”
An unhappy grumble escapes as I return to my sitting position. “Why didn’t you knock?”
“When have I ever knocked?” J.T. juvenilely jeers back.
“Maybe you should start.”
“Or maybe you shouldn’t tell me that it’s alright to pop over before I head to the hanger when it clearly isn’t.”
The opportunity to make a rebuttal is stolen from me courtesy of Bryn rising to her feet. “We’re good, Puppet Boy. There wouldn’t have been time to do more than a light double tap to the bat switch.”
Heat threatens to flush my face; however, my best friend openly jokes, “You’re the reason I’m comfortable watching those movies now.”
“And you’re the reason I can’t watch those Annabelle movies with Vanessa because you really are a doll come to life.”
He warmly laughs, shakes his head, and gives her the finger, which she quickly returns.
As much as I may not always appreciate their closeness, I’m grateful for it.
I would rather them be on the same side than forever feuding opponents forcing me to choose between the love of my life and family.
“Speaking of Vanessa, I should probably be going.” Bryn using two fingers on her left hand to flick strands of hair away from her face allows me a small glimpse of her engagement ring that’s in full display. “She said ten thirty for brunch, so me showing up a couple minutes early should be fine.”
J.T. slides his hands into his navy suit pockets on another amused smirk. “It’s ten thirty-four.”
“Fuck,” mutters Bryn during a dart away for our bedroom, “of course it is.”
“You really can’t tell time, can you?” taunts the other male in the room.
“And you really can’t finish a whole box of trojans.”
The snap back momentarily renders him speechless allowing me to call out, “Grab your phone.”
“On it!” she replies in the distance.
