Buttress: Noun: 1: a projecting structure (as of masonry) that supports or stabilizes a wall or building 2: something that supports, props, or strengthens
Taking a sip from my champagne flute, I scan the dance floor with an admiral attempt at not being bitter. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for the bride and groom. They’re my friends, after all.
But have you ever heard the saying, “Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride?” That’s me. This is the sixth wedding I’ve been in over the last two years. Three friends, two cousins, and today, it’s my brother.
Alan and his blushing bride, Ann, are dancing slowly to some sappy Ed Sheeran song. She’s beautiful. My dress, not so much. IF I ever get to have my own wedding day, I’m not going to torture my bridesmaids with hideous dresses.
Of course, they’re not the only ones dancing in the slow dance circles we all learned in high school. By now, we’re well into the reception. Toasts have been made, cake has been cut, flowers and garters have been thrown, the elderly people have gone home.
I need to go for a walk.
Pushing away from the wall, I sway a bit and realize I’m tipsy. I glare at the half empty glass of champagne as if it’s all its fault that I’m on my third glass. After setting my glass down on a random table, and swaying a bit, I manage to get myself outside.
The gardens are beautiful and I really want to walk through them, but I don’t make it past the buttress of the cathedral Ann insisted on renting, despite the ridiculous cost. Since it’s slanted, I lay back on it and gaze at the night sky.
“It was getting stuffy in there, huh?”
I start at the voice next to me and look over. Am I seriously so out of it that I didn’t see someone else already occupying this space?
“S’rry. I dint see you ther,” I slur. I’m slurring. I turn my head to see who I’m talking to. Naturally, he’s gorgeous.
He chuckles. “Had a little too much?”
“Not on purpose.” I look back to the star-speckled sky.
“You’re Alan’s sister, right?”
“Shouldn’t you be inside, you know, celebrating or something?”
I shrug. I feel like I’ve met the obligated amount of celebration for the day.
“Not big on parties?”
Does this guy ever shut up? Looking at him, I decide to voice my thoughts. It’s probably the alcohol. Don’t drink and party. You never know what you’ll say or do. Lesson learned. Never more than one glass ever again. Never.
“You talk a lot,” I say.
He chuckles again. “Aren’t you the blunt little thing?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I just say what everyone else is thinking, but is too afraid to say.”
“I’m Colin. A friend of Alan’s from college.”
“Dax.” Rolling my eyes, I return my gaze to space.
“My parents were big Deep Space Nine fans. Apparently, they got over it before Alan was born and he got a normal name.”
“Go to dinner with me.”
Really? This guy.
“Already ate. And it’s really late.”
“I have plans.”
“I’m going to wash my hair.”
He lets out a breathy laugh. “I thought you were blunt.”
Meeting his eyes, I say, “No.”
“I don’t date Alan’s friends. He told me a long time ago to never do it. So I honor his request.”
“Hmm. That’s weird. Because he told me I should ask you out.”
I gape at him. “He did what?” I stand up too quickly to go chew out my brother at his wedding reception and fall. Knowing I can’t catch myself in time, I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the inevitable pain. Instead, I feel an arm wrap around my waist and pull me back up to standing. I glare at my savior.
“Don’t be mad. He just thinks we would be good together. He knows both of us. Why not give it a shot? Just one date. If you don’t like me, we never have to see each other again.”
I examine his face. A strong chin and suave black curls frame his face. His eyes are the color of a clear ocean on a sunny day. He does have a point. And do I really want to continue with always being in weddings that aren’t my own? Not that I’m going to marry this guy. I just met him. Still, it could happen.
“Alright. For now, I’m just going to lay here until I’m not tipsy anymore, then I’m going home.”
He grins. “I’ll stay with you, then. No need to stay alone.”
After lowering me back to the safety of the buttress, he lays down next to me take hesitantly takes my hand. I give it a little squeeze. Who knows? Maybe this is the beginning of something great?