Can't Always Get What You Want (30 page)

And, cue the green-eyed monster.

Okay, play it cool, Sophie.

Play. It. Cool.

I walk up to Brett, giving him my most seductive smile.

“Hey, baby,” I coo, while planting a possessive kiss on his lips.

The look he gives me in return makes my knees knock and my pulse quicken.

Emmie? Emmie who?

“Oh…” she sneers. “She’s with you?”

Brett gives me his megawatt grin. “Yup.”

—

The wedding goes off without a hitch.

Samira and Narayan decided to combine North American and Indian customs into the ceremony. I was familiar with things like exchanging rings, the “speak now or forever hold your peace” bits, exchanging vows, blah blah blah.

But other things were less familiar.

Like Samira and Narayan walking around candles seven times, and pouring water over each other’s head.

At one point, they both held a coconut.

I still have no idea what that was all about.

—

The ceremony space was quickly converted into a dance space, and it didn’t take long before the wine started flowing and the bass started pumping.

I’m leaning against the bar, waiting for my drink order, when Samira and Brett walk up to me.

“Congratul
ations, Mrs. Kapoor,” I say.

“Ugh, that makes me sound like such an old married lady.”

“Yup. Old Balls Kapoor is what they’ll call you. Better get out your elastic waist pants and knitting needles.”

She rolls her eyes and gestures toward the dance floor.

“Get out there and dance. You can’t stand back here drinking all night.”

“I highly disagree,” I say with a smirk.

Just then a new song comes on, and for once it’s one that I know. I’ve heard Nita crank it at her house a million, bazillion times. I bet she’s out there somewhere, screaming out the lyrics. Thank God the volume is turned up in here.

I excitedly jump around. “Come on, Brett! Let’s bhangra!”

His eyes open wide. “Bang
who
?”

“No, no,” I giggle. “
Bhangra
. It’s an Indian folk dance. Nita showed me how years ago. Come on, I’ll teach you!”

Brett reaches his arms around me and roughly rubs my shoulders.

“Argh, I hate dancing in public.”

“Please?” I beg, giving him my best sad-puppy-dog expression.

He sighs, stifling a smile.

“Okay, fine,” he says. He runs a finger down my neck and toys with a loose scarlet tendril.

“I’d do anything for you, Red.”

I’m frozen. Seconds pass, and at some point, my brain reminds me that my lungs are burning and need air.

I look at Samira. She seems frozen too. I don’t even think she’s blinking.

“What?” he asks nervously. “Did I say something wrong?”

Like coming out of a coma, I swim toward the surface and forcibly shake off the shock of hearing Aaron’s nickname for me pass through Brett’s lips.

“No!” Samira and I say in unison.

Brett gives us an odd look, like he’s trying to figure us out.

Ha. Good luck with that.

He grins and juts his chin toward the dance floor.

“Okay then. Let’s go bang away.”

—

I’d figured that after nearly half an hour of throwing myself into angry bhangra punch dancing (which I’ve mentally called “anger bang”), I’d feel better.

Turns out, I don’t.

And, I now have an entourage of teenage boys following me around, asking me to teach them how to dance “weird” like that.

I feel Brett’s hand slip into mine. His expression is so happy, it nearly breaks my heart. I’m nowhere close to feeling happy at the moment.

“Come meet my parents,” he yells over the music.

“They’re
here
?”

“Yeah, they’ve just arrived. They had plans earlier this evening and could only come to the dance.”

Hmm.

Do I want to meet Brett’s parents? Mine are around here too, somewhere. Do I have to introduce my parents to his?

Well, it’s not like I have much choice. I’m his girlfriend, after all. Saying “Umm, no thanks, I’ll pass” isn’t exactly an option.

That is, unless I want to look like a total douche.

Which I don’t.

“Sure,” I say. “Where are they?”

—

Turns out, Bob and Linda Nicholson are very,
very
nice. Down-to-earth, funny, polite, etc. The perfect future in-laws.

A sweeping sense of panic threatens to overwhelm me as I consider just how deep I’m in with Brett. I’ve more or less agreed to “wait” until marriage, which pretty much implies that I’m going to marry him someday.

How can I do that when part of me is still in love with Aaron?

I suddenly become aware that Brett is leading me toward the dance floor.

How long have I been in my own little melancholy world? I hope I didn’t embarrass him in front of his parents by not answering a question or something.

“Oh yes, this is Sophie. She’s a bit slow.”

He pulls me in close, and we slow-dance around the perimeter of the crowd. He looks sweaty from dancing, and his hair is a bit mussed. Very sexy.

“Thanks for meeting my parents. That meant a lot to me, Soph,” he says, looking into my eyes. His voice is so deep and melodic, I have to resist the urge to lay my head on his chest and let his words lull me to sleep. Anything to make my mind shut off for a while.

“Oh, umm, yes! They seem lovely.”

“Yeah. They’re great. I really look up to them.”

I smile at him. “I can tell.”

He takes a deep breath, and casually shifts us toward a quieter part of the room.

“You know, for a guy who doesn’t like dancing in public, you sure know your way around a dance floor,” I tease.

“Just because I don’t like dancing in public doesn’t mean I can’t dance at all.” He smirks. “When I say I’d do anything for you, I mean it.”

He licks his lips, and I notice that he looks kind of nervous.

“I’m different around you. I’m sure Narayan and Sam have mentioned it.”

“You singing karaoke ABBA was pretty awesome,” I say.

His laugh is a deep throaty sound that sounds almost like purring.

“Exactly. I feel like I’ve become a whole new man since I’ve met you. I’ve never felt so alive, so happy.”

Our bodies are pressed close, gently swaying to the music. His vivid blue eyes shine, despite the dim lighting. His expression softens, and he cups my chin.

“I love you, Sophie.”

A mini-explosion goes off in my heart, and a wave of affection goes out toward him, binding me to him.

I love him. I really, truly do.

But…part of me still loves Aaron too.

Can you be in love with two people at once?

I focus on Brett. I know that he’s desperately waiting for me to say it back. I push aside all of the emotional baggage, all of the garbage that I haven’t dealt with.

In this moment, what do I really, truly feel?

I wrap my arms tightly around his waist.

“I love you too.”

Chapter 26

Bitch

Brett and I are snuggled on his couch. It’s a cold day in early October, and the weather isn’t exactly inviting.

Ever since the wedding, Brett and I have been on cloud nine. To love someone and have them say it back is a beautiful thing.

And, I’ve got to say, it’s made us pretty horny too.

We
cannot
stop making out. My lips will stay permanently numb if I keep this up. I’ve got a feeling that we might have sex soon (despite our agreement to wait).

Well, here’s hoping anyway. In the meantime, all I know is that I’m very, very happy.

Would you be happier with Aaron?

Oh, stop it.

This is fine. Everything is fine. My life is fine. I am happy.

Grumble rumble grumble.

Brett pulls his lips away from mine. “Was that your stomach?”

“I think so.” I pause, thinking of when I last ate. It was a long time ago. Horniness overrides hunger, I guess.

He stands and swoops me up in his arms. “Let’s see what I can whip up for you,” he whispers in my ear as he carries me to the kitchen. Shivers run down my spine, and I snuggle into his chest.

Sigh…

I could get used to this.

He sets me down and rummages through the fridge. Aside from a few questionable-looking containers of old leftovers and beer, there isn’t anything exactly edible.

Typical boy. Needs someone to take care of him.

“Well, that’s settled,” he announces while shutting the door. “I’m taking you out.”

—

We decide to try out a new restaurant at West Edmonton Mall, and then cruise around the mall to both A) have something to do and B) walk off the enormous quantities of food we’ve just consumed.

“Ugh,” I groan. “I never want to eat again.”

Brett pats his stomach affectiona
tely. “You say that now, but in two hours, you’ll want a Cinnabon.”

I laugh with mock offense and shove his shoulder.

He’s right, damn it.

“We could go to the gym tomorrow, if you’d like,” he says.

“We could,” I reply. I wait a second, and twirl my hair (still bright red, but with shocking blond roots) around my finger.

“You know, we could exercise in other ways…” I trail off, and look flirtatiously at him.

“Believe me, it’s getting pretty hard not to.”

I can’t help myself.

“It’s getting pretty hard, eh?”

He raises his eyebrows, and wraps an arm around my shoulder. But he doesn’t say anything about my dirty pun.

Damn.

I was hoping that would push him over the edge and tempt him to take me into the nearest dark corner or family bathroom and have his dirty way with me.

What?

As if we’d be the first people to have sex up against some random wall at West Ed. Trust me.

“Soph! Did you hear me?”

Oops.

“Nope, sorry. Too busy having sex fantasies about you.”

A loud guffaw fills the air. “Really?”

“Yep. They’re very distracting.”

“I’ll bet,” he mutters, smiling at the floor.

He’s silent for a moment. Hurrah! I bet he’s having sex fantasies about me now. Or, you know, making up new ones. Guys supposedly think about that every fifteen seconds or whatever.

He slows his pace. “Do you know when I first started falling in love with you?”

Oh.

Well, that was unexpected. Not that I’m disappointed or anything. Girls love hearing the details on stuff.

“No,” I say, smiling.

“It was the second time I ever saw you.”

“Really?” What was the second time he saw me? Can I even think of “the moment” when I started falling in love with him?

“I was looking for you at work, so we could walk over to Timmies together for coffee.”

“Oh yeah. So…you fell in love with me while waiting in the
cafeteria
?” I ask.

That seems weird.

He laughs, and shakes his head. “No. I was on your unit looking for you. I walked around the corner and saw you sitting with a woman who was crying. It looked like she was losing everything that ever mattered to her.”

Ah. Lorna. I wonder how she’s doing.

Tears prickle in my eyes, and I discreetly wipe them away.

He stops walking and turns to face me. “I saw this beautiful, compassionate, intelligent woman—looking very sexy in her scrubs, I might add—taking the time to listen to someone, even after her shift was done.

“The second I turned that corner, I was done for.”

Who knew roughneck carpenters could be so romantic?

“Wow, Brett. I don’t know what to say. Now that I think of it, I think I started to fall for you on our first date. It’s not every day I meet someone who can sing all the words to every Rolling Stones song ever.”

Is this too good to be true? Is it possible to have two great loves in one lifetime? The thought makes me nervous. It’s like I’m waiting for the bottom to fall out. It happened once, right? It could happen again.

We’re walking past the mall’s indoor skating rink. It’s mainly filled with older couples and families. I pull Brett’s arm, and we lean over the rail to watch. An older lady flies by, doing fancy crossovers, her hair blowing back.