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Jonesy's gaze darted around the venue. He noted Jen fleeing from Robbie and Diego at the kids table. Her auburn hair became damp and askew after they doused her with their drinks. He chuckled to himself. (I taught them well.)
His gaze drifted to other happenings. Singles mingled at the open bar (where he had earlier tried to sneak champagne until his father's furrowed brow said, "Don't even try it.") The couples swayed on the dance floor, with Jen's cousin and her now-husband at the center. His dad and Emma had also decided to go dancing, despite his dad's concern for her. However, Emma insisted that pregnancy didn't prevent her from a light dance, so they ventured away, leaving Jonesy and Nikki at the adult table by themselves.
Jonesy's eyes landed upon his girlfriend, who lifted her plastic fork and shoved the last of her cake into her mouth. A small amount of the cream-cheese frosting perched on the corner of her lips.
He smiled.
"What?" she asked after catching his gaze.
"You got a little something right here," he said, pointing at the same corner of his own lips.
"Oh." She grabbed her napkin and wiped it away. Returning her focus to him, she said, "I'm surprised you didn't try to kiss it off me instead."
"I mean, it did cross my mind."
She snorted. "Of course."
They fell into a comfortable silence, soundtracked by a soft, pop ballad from the live band.
She placed her palm on his suit-clad shoulder. A mischievous glint danced in her brown eyes. "Then again, you're more than welcome to sneak a kiss now."
Say no more.
He leaned in and pressed a brief, amorous kiss against her lips. Once they parted, his same smile returned. (As much as he loved making out with her, he knew when to keep his beloved "tonsil hockey" to a minimum, especially given the hoards of Jen's family surrounding them.)
Before they could make any further comment, shrill microphone feedback distracted them.
"Is this thing working?"
Then again, the shrill feedback sounded more pleasant than the squeaky voice that followed. Jonesy and Nikki's attention whipped towards the stage, finding exactly who they suspected: the tonally challenged maid of honor.
In her pitch that could beat the Clones in an Irritating Voice Contest, she announced, "I just wanted to let you guys know that the bouquet toss will start in ten minutes, so all you lucky ladies better get down here and see who can catch it! May the best girl wiiiiin!"
With that, she stepped away from the microphone. The band resumed the music.
"May the best girl, like, totally wiiiiin," Nikki mimicked in her best valley-girl-on-helium voice. She brought her hand in the shape of a finger gun to her temple. Upon turning to her boyfriend, she said, "Do me the honor of pulling the trigger."
"No, don't kill yourself; you're so sexy."
She playfully hit him on the arm and chuckled alongside him.
Amid this, a gaggle of girls made their way towards the stage, leaving their boyfriends behind. Only a handful of girls remained in their spots prior to the announcement—the standouts being Jen (whom Jonesy assumed to be in the bathroom cleaning herself up), her mother (on the dance floor with his dad), and Nikki (remaining calmly by his side).
"You're really chill with all this wedding stuff, babe."
She shrugged. "It's not a big deal. Just one big, antiquated circus."
"I thought you liked antiques."
She sighed. "Antiquated means outdated."
"Just like antiques."
She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, like I said before, weddings don't trip me out."
"I like that about you. Bring a girl like Caitlin to something like this, and I bet she'd be fighting for her life over a bunch of flowers."
"No kidding. She's been trying to tell me all week how 'romantic' and 'exciting' it is for me to be going to my first wedding as a girlfriend. I don't know why this stuff makes everyone go so… so crazy." She crossed her arms. "I'm glad you didn't act all weird when you asked me to come. I like that about you."
His lips curled into a smirk. "Well, I needed someone to save me from the kids table, so I figured, 'Hey, you'll do.'"
"You always know how to ruin a moment, don't you, Jones?"
He winked and shot her finger guns. "You know it, baby."
She rolled her eyes once more and stood up, declaring, "I'm gonna get more cake. Want me to bring you some, too?"
"Hell yeah."
"Okay." Her hand ghosted his shoulder. "Be right back."
Nikki walked to the dessert table, positioned further down the room, against the wall leftmost of where she and Jonesy sat. Vanilla cake slices and miniature key lime cheesecakes sat on lilac, paper plates; lemon meringue bars perched upon a lilac platter; and similarly colored utensils and napkins sat at the very end of the table. It bustled with options, even after all this time.
Maybe weddings aren't half-bad after all.
While looking at the cake plates—wondering which two possessed the most frosting—a raspy voice said, "Hey, Nikki."
She turned around. "Oh, hey, Jen." Her eyes lingered over Jen's half-damp, half-dry hair, restyled into her usual side part. Nikki frowned. "Sorry Operation: Date didn't exactly come to fruition."
Jen sighed. "It's fine. I just think I'm gonna stand for the rest of the ceremony. As long as I'm away from those brutes at the kids table."
"Well, at least it's over soon. Isn't this flower-toss crap one of the last things anyways?"
"Yeah, thank God." Jen gazed at the desserts. "At least now I have an excuse to drown my sorrows in junk food."
The shrill feedback returned, causing Jen and Nikki to swivel their attention to the stage, where the maid of honor stood once more.
"Okay, ladieeeees," she began. "It's that time of the evening!"
"Ugh." Nikki covered her ears with the quickness. "Enough."
Jen giggled.
Nikki crossed her arms. "I see my bleeding ears amuse you."
"Trust: Mine are bleeding too."
"She's like a dolphin with a microphone."
The maid of honor continued, "It's time to welcome the person that I wouldn't be here without. The maid of honor would be nothing without her bestie bride. Come on up, Sarah!"
At the beckoning of the maid's fingers, Jen's cousin walked onto the stage with a smaller replica of the arrangement she carried down the aisle. She turned her back to the girls crowded around the stage.
"Now, before we get started, let's get a little music going." The maid of honor gestured towards the band. "What you got for us, guys?"
The band members all eyed each other before bursting into an acoustic cover.
"Is this 'Single Ladies' by Beyoncé?" Jen asked.
Nikki groaned. "They play this nonstop at the Crappy Barn. I can't escape it."
"Time to toss the bouquet!" the maid said, sending the crowd into a frenzy of assorted cheers and claps. Even most of the guys gathered around to witness the spectacle.
As Nikki rolled her eyes, the bride launched the bouquet into the wild. Given the awkward angle in which she threw it, it flew in unusual fashion.
"Nikki!" Jen shouted her name with an urgency she hadn't heard all day.
Nikki's eyes widened, finding an object coming at her from above. Reflexively, she clasped her hands around it, preventing it from hitting her in the face.
When she brought her hands beneath her chest, she gaped down at what she held: an elaborate, aromatic arrangement of lavender, lilacs, and white roses.
Words evaded her. Her mouth hung agape. Her cheeks burned.
"Congrats to the lucky girl near the dessert table!" the maid of honor cheered. "C'mon, everyone, make some noise!"
Nikki's head swiveled. Her wild, brown eyes darted around the room, where the women and men who initially gathered for the toss applauded her and sent her genuine smiles. Hot flashes ran over her; everyone's eyes burned holes.
Nikki pivoted towards Jen, who stared in shock.
"Nikki—"
"Shut up."
"You caught the bouquet."
"I said, 'Shut up!'" Nikki's frazzled state seeped into her tone. She buried her face into her fists, with the bouquet still in her possession (and in her face). "I can't deal with this."
Jen caught sight of someone over Nikki's shoulder. "Well, you better, 'cause your future groom's coming this way."
Amid Jen's giggling, Nikki turned around to see a confused Jonesy approaching them.
"Here." Nikki shoved the bouquet into Jen's hands.
Jen shoved it back into Nikki's hands. "You earned it fair and square."
Nikki shoved it back to Jen. "I didn't wanna earn it."
"Too bad." Jen shoved it back to Nikki—right as Jonesy made it to the dessert table.
After saying, "Let me go find my mom," Jen left the two of them with a teasing smile (and a plate of cake in hand).
Is this my karma for me and Jonesy screwing up her date? It must be.
Nikki's hands dropped to her sides, the bouquet smacking the side of her leg as she did so. Her lips contorted into the most uncomfortable, forced grin she'd ever given. A single chuckle escaped her.
Jonesy spoke slowly. "Uhh, so what was that?"
Her mouth ran dry. She averted her eyes onto the dance floor. "Just a dumb tradition. Doesn't mean anything really."
"Well"—he scratched the back of head—"remind me of what it means. Y'know, just so we can make fun of it."
Without looking at him, she replied, "Well, it means that whoever catches the bouquet, um, is gonna be the next person to… you know…"
His eyes bore through her, not settling for that answer.
She finally looked at him. Her tone hushed. "Get married."
His brow lifted. "Oh. Wow." He gulped. "Well, good thing it's just a dumb tradition."
"A really stupid tradition."
"A really, really stupid tradition."
She nodded. "Mmhmm. One that doesn't define what we do in our relationship."
"Yep. Besides, we got our whole lives ahead of us. We don't have to have all this crap figured out now."
"Whole lives ahead…" Nikki processed the implication. "Does— Does this mean you see yourself—I don't know—being with me in the long run? …Hypothetically, of course."
His stare drifted elsewhere. A drawn-out uhhhhhhh fell from his lips.
She palmed her forehead with her free hand. "Forget I even asked. It's such a stupid question."
They hadn't even exchanged the three biggest words in the English language with each other yet! That unspoken confession already lingered around her heart. She attached it to a paperweight to keep it from flying out of her mouth. That, coupled with her question about a future together (only to not receive an answer), struck her as disastrous.
Fuck, she hated weddings. She caught the craze that infected every girl in attendance. He had never been one for commitment. Eons passed before he finally chased his way back into her heart. What did she think she would gain from asking him? Why did she even agree to come to th—
He ambushed her with a kiss.
Oh. That's why she agreed.
She rose on her tippy toes, even in her short heels. She sighed against his lips.
One hand nestled against the small of her back. The other scalded her upper back, touching the small window of skin left uncovered by her dress.
Once they parted, the singe in her cheeks became permanent. She glanced around the room. To her relief, the spotlight on her had gone dark. Into the shadows, she returned.
He broke the silence with a soft voice. "It wasn't a dumb question." He grabbed her free hand and caressed it with his thumb (causing her heart to swell). "Look, Nikki: I really, really, really like you. A lot."
"But?"
"No buts—well, no buts other than your really cute butt." He purred at her.
While she swatted his arm with the flowers, she couldn't fight her smile. It melted (and so did her insides) as she chose her words with caution. "I really, really, really like you too. A lot. I guess I just want to keep seeing where things go with you."
"Yeah, me too."
"So,"—she leaned her head in the direction of the dessert table—"cake?"
"Abso-freaking-lutely, babe."
Before she could even grab her own, he grabbed two plates for them, the same slices that she had eyeballed earlier because they had the most frosting. She didn't even have to tell him.
She followed him back to their table. As she took her seat and placed the floral arrangement under her chair, she changed her heart on weddings, at least for the rest of the evening.