That Wedding (53 page)

Phillip is laying in bed watching TV while I take a hot bubble bath. I'm not feeling great. Phillip made me go to the doctor today because the cold I've been fighting for a couple weeks had turned into a stupid sinus infection. He gave me some strong antibiotics, so I should be feeling better quickly. The holidays were a blur. We had an amazing first Christmas together, and we're on the countdown to the big day. I can't believe in a couple weeks we'll be married! I think I was just nervous before. I know Phillip is the one for me.

I'm sure of it.

How can I not be sure of it when he's so sweet to me? He got my prescription filled, brought me home chicken noodle soup, and watched a movie with me. I slept through most of the movie because I was laying with my head on his lap, and he was running his fingers through my hair. He woke me up after the movie and told me I should take a hot bath and then come to bed.

I get out of the tub, lay down next to him, and fall immediately to sleep.

I'm on the phone with a friend, telling her that I'm marrying Phillip.

I'm not sure who exactly I'm talking to, but I'm telling her how excited I am.

How Phillip and I will be the perfect married couple.

How we're made for each other.

I gush on and on about how amazing Phillip is. How I'm sure he's the perfect man for me.

But as I'm gushing on about him, all of a sudden, I watch myself burst into flames.

I'm on the phone speaking, but yet, I'm burning. I'm like the burning bush.

Apparently God believes I've just spoken blasphemy, that I'm not right for Phillip.

I wake up to Phillip shaking me. "Princess, wake up. You're screaming."

I guess you tend to do that when you spontaneously burst into flames.

I'm shaken by the dream.

Was the dream just a sign from God that I shouldn't marry Phillip? Or is my mind messing with me?

Phillip kisses my forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bad dream."

He rolls me into his arms. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. I think fleetingly before I fall back asleep that God must've been wrong.

Because I belong in this exact spot.

Forever.

"That was amazing," Phillip says. "I did damn good."

Phillip's usually pretty impressed with himself after sex. It'd make me laugh, if he wasn't completely right. Everything he does is like perfect. I've always joked that he knows what's best for me, but I was talking about in life, not in bed. In bed, he definitely knows exactly what to do to me, like at exactly the right time. And I'm not sure how he does it because I still haven't figured everything out about him.

I've been thinking about telling Phillip about how I've been kinda nervous about the whole death do you part thing. About the whole being together FOREVER thing.

I've always been able to talk to Phillip about how I feel, but now that the boy we're talking about is him, it's not as easy.

And as much as I keep trying to push it away or smother it, I can't help it, the burning bush dream is still on my mind. I can't figure out if it was a sign I shouldn't marry Phillip or just plain old cold feet. I read on a wedding website that getting cold feet is completely normal, so I'm trying to be calm about it.

"Phillip, do you ever get cold feet?"

"Are you scared about getting married?"

"Me? Oh, no," I lie. "I just wondered if you do. I read on some wedding website that it's completely normal. I mean, I don't wanna be left standing at the altar cuz you changed your mind."

"Princess, no way I'm changing my mind."

"And you don't think we're settling, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like we couldn't get anyone else, so we're best friends getting married."

Phillip backs away like I slapped him. "Is that what you think?"

"No, not at all. Someone just said that, and I wanted to make sure you don't feel that way."

"Let me guess, Richie Rich?"

"Um, maybe. So you don't think we are?"

Phillip doesn't answer. Instead, he kisses my neck. "Do you like that?"

"Uh, yeah, but we're supposed to be talking."

He runs his hands down my sides and says, "How bout that?"

"Phillip, what does that have to do with cold feet or settling?"

Phillip moves super fast. Before I know it, he's sitting on top of me and has my hands pinned above my head. He leans down close to my face and runs his scruffy jaw across mine. "Settling for marrying your friend means there's love but no physical attraction."

I had just put on a T-shirt. He strips it off with one strong hand and pins my arms down against the bed again.

God, I love how strong he is.

"What are you doing?" I say breathlessly.

"I think I need to prove to you that you're not settling."

"How are you gonna do that? Aren't we supposed to be talking about this?"

He kisses down my neck and murmurs into my ear. "Talking is overrated in this situation. I'm gonna do stuff to you. If it makes you want me, then you're not settling, and we get married. If it doesn't, we won't."

"So if I can resist you, we can call off the wedding?"

He nods his head then kisses the top of my outstretched arms, across my wrists, down my tender and slightly ticklish forearm. He's not even to my elbow, and I know I'd never be able to resist him with any conviction. Especially now that he's kissing my chest and my stomach. I'm tying to pretend to be disinterested, but truth is, I wanted him the second he rubbed his cheek against mine.

He kisses further down my stomach, and I think he's going to really make me crazy by going down a bit further. Instead, he moves back up to my mouth and kisses me deeply.

"You're being a tease," I tell him.

"Oh, I haven't even begun to tease you, Princess. How much more can you take?"

I try to steady my breathing. My friends used to tease me that all I ever looked for in a guy were muscles and a pretty face. That I should look at his personality, his mind. I joked back that there was nothing wrong with wanting my happily ever after wrapped in a really hot package. And if Phillip is my happily ever after, then I got my wish.

I'm so not settling.

My eyes can't help but take in every curve of every muscle. The rock solid hardness of his biceps. His lean stomach. The abs. Oh, how I love Phillip's abs. Even though my arms are still pinned above my head, my fingers move slightly, like they do when I trace my fingertips down them. Phillip slides his boxers off and gives me a whole different kind of hardness to look at.

Shit. I can resist him

I resisted him my whole life, surely, I can resist him this once, just to make a point.

"I can resist you. I resisted you for years," I tell him

Of course, he was always clothed when I resisted him.

He pushes all his hardness against me.

"That's not really fair," I murmur. "It's not fair that you're naked."

He kisses me again. "Wow. You can resist. Guess I'll just go watch some TV, and we'll call off the wedding." He moves his body a fraction of an inch, like he's getting ready to get off me.

I can't let him go, so I say, "No, you're not," and pull him into me.

After a very thorough convincing, I know for certain we're not settling.

But there's more.

"Phillip, you know that we're solving our conflicts with sex, right? You know our relationship is probably already infected."

Phillip brushes a stray strand of hair off my face. "Princess, I think we solved the conflict, and then we had sex."

"I don't really even remember what the conflict was."

We both start laughing.

Phillip says, "Then we don't have to worry about it festering and growing. We're all good."

"So what about the feet? Aren't you a little scared about getting married? About making a lifelong, death do you part, commitment?

His brown eyes look at me softly. His mouth turns up into a grin, like he just thought of something happy. "Feel my feet," he says.

I move my cold feet against his always warm ones. I don't know how he's always so warm, but it's one of the many things I adore about him.

"Do my feet feel cold?"

I laugh. "No, they're never cold."

"And yours always are. That's why we're perfect for each other. Mine are always hot. Yours are always cold. You cool mine down. I warm yours up. Together they make the perfect temperature."

"So I actually do something that helps you?"

"You make me a better man, Princess. That's why I wanna marry you."

"Really?"

He pulls me in close and kisses me. "Really."

I'm at work, and I'm feeling uninspired in the new year. We had a really fun Jersey Shore themed New Year's Eve couple's shower. Everyone took it as an excuse to dress slutty, drink too much, and fist pump. I'm praying the horrible orange spray on tans everyone got will be worn off by the wedding!

In Joey's brilliance, he decided rather than make everyone buy us a "stupid" shower gift, they should bring us something practical.

And what's more practical than alcohol?