This dinner quickly taught me that my limit on food courses is three - not five. My dress now feels tight from inhaling every delicious course. When our server sets the fifth and final course- a melon sorbet- down before me, I may explode. I poke at the melting slush until I hear Mr. Stanley Ellis, Jessica's father, stand up and clink his glass to command attention.
"Good evening, everyone," he says in his trademark deep and authoritative voice. Murmuring voices slowly silence, and everyone averts their gaze to Mr. Ellis. He smiles with pride at Jessica. She smiles adoringly and leans onto Michael's shoulder to look up at him. Michael kisses the top of Jessica's soft blonde hair. I smile, watching them.
"Firstly, I'd like to thank everyone for travelling to Costa Rica to celebrate the marriage of our beautiful daughter, Jessica Marie Ellis, to the soon-to-be Dr. Michael Frances Mercier."
Mr. Ellis begins to tear up. He pauses and clears his throat, wiping unshed tears from his eyes. Jessica's mother grabs his hand and squeezes it.
Seeing both her parents share in such a touching moment makes me wonder what my crazy divorced parents would be like if I ever got married. And for a moment, I envy Jessica's parents' relationship. My parents hate each other. My father abandoned us when I was in elementary school. They would never sit down together and share in a pinnacle moment of joy in my life. Instead, my mother would probably protest about being in the same room as my father. And my father would likely decline my wedding invite to spite my mother. Nothing about my fictional wedding day would even be about me. The central focus would be on their issues and problems.
Jessica has always been lucky; her family is loving and anything but dysfunctional. It makes sense that she could find love quickly with Michael; it's all around her.
"I am proud to say that five days from now, everyone in this room will witness the most beautiful bride walking down the aisle," Mr. Ellis sniffles. "Your mother and I wish you and Michael all the happiness in the world. We'd also like to thank everyone for coming once again. It means so much to our family and the Mercier family. Thank you. I love you, Jessie-girl."
I sip my wine and try to hold back my tears. Everyone clapped and cheered for Mr. Ellis's speech. Jessica stands up, and her dad kisses her forehead. Michael reaches out to shake Mr. Ellis's hand, but instead, he pulls him in for a hug.
"Mr. Ellis's speech was so sweet," Michelle says, wiping away tears with a napkin.
"I know, right?" Stephanie agrees.
"Oh, God. You girls are way too emotional," Eric groans. "Enough of this teary babble. Let's grab a bottle of booze and hang out on the beach."
"I'm down," Matthew says.
"Me too," Michelle pipes up.
"Are you coming, Ben?" Stephanie smiles at him, eyes wide and curious.
I don't know why she needs to ask Ben whether he's coming, but it annoys me.
"Yeah, I'll come," he says, watching me, the muscles of his jaw flexing. When I don't give my friends confirmation of my attendance, he asks, "What about you, Megs? You coming?"
I quickly scanned his muscular body and then decided that was a bad idea. Before I can respond, Eric abruptly stands from the table. "I'll get us another round of drinks here before we go. Everyone name your poison."
As our friends rattle off their drink to Eric, Ben leans across the table and whispers, "Promise you'll come to the beach with us."
My insides do an unexpected flip-flop when he says this. I take a deep breath, about to respond, when I see the playful glimmer in his eyes change to clouded confusion at something behind me. I turn slowly and follow his gaze to Jessica, standing behind me with a handsome mystery man.
"Megan," Jessica beams. She pulls me up from my chair, so I stand face-to-chest with Steven. He's so tall that I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. "This is my cousin, Steven. Steven, this is Megan, my best and most awesome friend. I have been dying for you two to meet finally."
My legs feel wobbly. I am awestruck. Steven is not what I expected. He is very tall, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. I am at a loss for words. Mostly because Jessica always referred to him as her nerdy cousin from Connecticut. She should have mentioned Steven is anything but nerdy. He's smartly dressed in a navy suit jacket, white shirt, and dark-wash jeans. His chin dimple is adorable, and his jaw is cut like steel. His blonde hair is entirely swept to the side and styled. When I inhale, I catch a whiff of him. I smell expensive body wash and 100% man.
He shakes my hand firmly. "It's nice to meet you. Jessica has always told me so many great things about you over the years." His smile is infectious. I can't help but smile back. "I have to say you are even more beautiful in person than you are in pictures."
"Pictures?" I laugh, curious. "How did you see my picture?"
"I showed him your Instagram account," Jessica says, smiling.
I blush, feeling so vulnerable that Jessica showed him my private Instagram account even though I hardly ever post pictures of myself. My feed is mostly food, real estate, and random photos with my friends. I wish she would have told me she showed him my account. I could have made sure I posted really, really good pictures of myself.
I pretend this doesn't make me feel nervous and smile again at Steven.
"So, I hear you're moving to Chicago," I say, remembering this is why Jessica decided to introduce us. He applied for a hospital transfer after a messy divorce. He moves to Chicago next week.
Steven smiles. "Yeah. I'm looking forward to living in the windy city. I could use a tour guide, though."
"If anyone knows Chicago, it's Megan," Jessica says. You two should set something up. Plus, Steven loves the Cubs, just like you. You should go to a game together. Don't you have season tickets?"
I nod, trying my best to poker face this situation like a champ. I do have season tickets with Ben. Cubs games are our thing, a tradition we've had since high school. We only give away each other's tickets after asking first. I feel sick at the thought of Ben sitting at the table, hearing Jessica suggest such a thing.
"Wow. You have season tickets?" Steven asks. "Of course, I'd love to see a game with you. But first, maybe we could get to know each other this week over a few casual drinks." He glares at Jessica. I can tell he is embarrassed. Jessica is always over the top. "I don't want to scare you, Megan. My crazy little cousin Jessica doesn't know boundaries."
Laughing, I say, "No, she doesn't."
Jessica frowns. "Excuse me for thinking you two are a perfect match. I'll stay out of it then."
Steven laughs, "Yes, please. You finally introduced us. I think we can manage."
"Fine," Jessica says. "I'll let you two get to know each other." She winks at us before she proceeds to walk over to Michael.
The loud rumble of a chair pushing backward startles me. I see Ben rising from his seat and tossing a napkin on his plate. "I think I'm going to bail on the beach. I'm going to call it a night," he says. He refuses to make eye contact with me and shoves his hands into his pockets. That was a bad idea. His jeans' waist slips lower, and his shirt's hem moves up. And when I see a slice of toned stomach and hipbone, my heart beats a little too quickly at the sight of my best friend's bare skin.
"What the hell? No. You are coming with us," Eric objects. "We are on vacation, Ben. The bartender hooked us up with a bottle of tequila. You can sleep later."
"You have to come," Stephanie says in a high-pitched baby voice. "Please."
For some reason, and only with Ben, Stephanie tries to pathetically flirt with him, especially when she's been drinking. Typically, it doesn't annoy me, but I can't stand to watch when she leans forward, tugs on his bicep, and bats her eyelashes at him.
"Yeah, man," Matthew says. "You have to come."
Ben tugs his arm free from Stephanie and shifts his gaze between Steven and me. "Nah. I'm feeling jet-lagged. But you can ask Steven to join you. I am sure he'll gladly take my place."
My face immediately heats. Ben pushes in his chair and walks away from the table. Eric throws his hands in the air and looks at Matthew, "What the hell is his problem?"
Matthew shrugs, unaffected by Ben's abrupt departure. He leans over and places his hand on Michelle's thigh, inching his way too far. Michelle doesn't seem to care, and in fact, she runs a hand through his hair.
As I watch Ben walk away, I watch his shoulders fall, and the air leaves his lungs. Both hands slip into his pockets, and I feel this impulse to chase after him. The further he goes down the cobblestone pathway, the more my heart feels torn. I glance over my shoulder at Steven. He's smiling at me, hot as hell, waiting for me to extend an invite to the beach. I fiddle with the fringe of my dress, selfishly wishing I could kick off my heels and be anywhere but here.
"Nice to meet you, man. I'm Eric," he shakes Steven's hand. "You're welcome to come with us. Any friend of Megan's is a friend of mine."
Fuck. Thanks, Eric.
Steven scratches his jaw. "Yeah, Sure. I could come down to the beach for a bit."
I considered lying to Steven and my friends by telling them I felt sick too, so I could chase after Ben and demand that he explain what the hell that was about. Ben never turns down a drink and rarely gets upset or jet-lagged, so his quick exit has me worried something else is going on with him. He couldn't possibly be upset. Jessica's played matchmaker with Steven and me. Why would he? Ben has never cared much about who I've liked or dated.
I tell myself I am overanalyzing things, but when I glance over my shoulder one last time to see Ben disappear into the darkness, I can't help but feel like a bundle of twisted nerves.
We say our goodbyes to Jessica and Michael, who stay back to spend time with their families. On our walk to the beach, I hear Matthew and Michelle kissing and giggling behind us. Eric chats with Steven about a recent Cubs trade, and Stephanie rambles on about her plans to make tomorrow a day of sun-tanning and leisure.
The pathway to the beach is quiet and dark but full of luscious greenery. Crashing waves against the sand fill the air with a refreshing misty sprinkle. Eric jogs ahead, searching for a perfect place to catch moonlight and drink tequila. He finds a well-lit area and waves us over.
"Okay, Steven," Eric announces. "As part of an initiation, you should be the first to take a shot of Tequila." He holds out the bottle in Steven's direction.
I shoot Eric a scolding glare. "You don't have to," I tell Steven.
Steven laughs, "It's okay, Megan." He takes the bottle from Eric and says, "I could use a shot."
"You're not his girlfriend yet," Eric teases me. "Steven can do all the shots he wants. Right, Steven?"
Steven doesn't respond. He laughs at Eric and then takes a long pull from the bottle. My friends cheer and clap for Steven, and Eric pats him on the back. "I like this guy," he says, smiling.
I like Steven, too. So far, he has proven himself to be boyfriend material. His actions tonight prove that he's easy-going, can put up with Eric, and is a good sport, as he took the first shot of tequila.
When he passes the bottle back to Eric, he coughs a bit. This tells me he probably doesn't shoot tequila very often, which proves he's mature, stable, and probably not a heavy drinker.
We spent the rest of our night laughing, drinking tequila, listening to Eric retell stories, and sharing memories from our high school and college days with Steven. A few were embarrassing. Like when I had to drive Ben to a track meet but accidentally backed into our Principal's Mercedes Benz with my mother's Station Wagon. Or when I was Ben's assistant for a magic show he did at a high school Christmas talent show for bonus marks. There was also the time in college when I drunkenly threw up all over Ben's brand-new t-shirt. And the time I organized a protest to ban smoking on campus, but the only two people who showed up to support me were Jessica and Ben.
Thankfully, Steven enjoys these stories of my past. Every time Eric finishes telling one, I catch Steven smiling at me.
"Okay," I say. "How about we change the subject? I want no more embarrassing stories about Megan."
"And Ben," Michelle adds. "You two are the highlight of every story."
"Ben was the guy who left early?" Steven asks.
I nod.
"Ben and Megan have been inseparable since the ninth grade," Eric adds, taking a shot of tequila. "But no worries, Steven, they're just friends."
"I gathered that much from the stories," Steven says.
"How about I tell a few more," Eric suggests.
"No," I moan. "Come on, Eric. Enough."
"Relax. Steven probably appreciates hearing about your dorky days," Matthew said, smiling. "Oops, I meant glory days."
I glare at him. "Ha. Ha. Very funny."
"There was also that time before you wore contacts that you wore pop bottle glasses," Eric winks.
Michelle choked on a shot of tequila. Stephanie giggles, and Matthew ruffles my hair.
I can't believe my friends are pulling this right now. I haven't even been on a first date with Steven, and they are already testing to see if he's genuinely interested in dating me. Usually, by the third date, I introduce a guy to my friends. It's important to me that they can get along. It's also important to my friends that he's a good guy. Eric likes to tell old stories to gauge reactions and tolerance. He thinks I have blinders on when red flags of asshole pop up. This is their way of challenging Steven. But so far, Steven is passing with flying colours.
Steven leans over and pats my thigh. "I think you'd look cute in pop bottle glasses, and these stories are charming."
"Really?" I ask.
Steven nods and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His reassurance was sincere. Eric's test may hold some truth.
When conversation and laughter started again, I saw Michelle whisper something in Matthew's ear across the circle. His eyes widen, and he runs a hand along her neck and into her hair.
Eric must have noticed, too, because he smacks Matthew's back. "Hey, no one wants to witness you two cheaters. Keep it PG or get a room."
Michelle frowns. "We're not cheaters."
"You're both dating someone," Eric says.
"Going on a few dates and dating someone are completely different things," Matthew says. "Neither of us are committed to anyone or anything right now."
Eric groans. "You two are messed up."
As their conversation fades into the background, Steven leans over and whispers in my ear, "I am having a perfect time with you."
"I'm having a good time with you too."
"Don't be embarrassed," he smiles. "I loved Eric's stories. I think it's endearing that you wore pop bottle glasses. I wore headgear. It doesn't get much worse than that."
I laugh. "Yikes. Headgear is bad."
"What are your plans tomorrow?" he asks.
"I'd like to explore the resort a bit more, sun-tan a little, and swim in the ocean."
He runs his thumb along my cheek. "Think you'd be able to find some time for me?"
I blush and am thankful it's dark out. "I can probably manage to fit you into my busy schedule."
Steven laughs. "I would like that."
"Here, Steven. Drink the last shot of tequila." Eric passes Steven the bottle. Without an ounce of hesitation, he slams back what's left.
"Let's all go skinny dipping," Stephanie says.
Eric pulls off his shirt. "Fuck yeah."
Stephanie giggles and pulls off her dress in one seamless swoop, tossing it to the ground. Eric follows in a race to kick off his shorts. My friends may have had too much tequila. I hear them laughing and crashing into the waves. Thankfully, it's way too dark out to see them completely naked.
"You guys coming?" Matthew asks, unbuckling his belt.
"No." My response is instant. Even if Steven weren't here, I wouldn't want to skinny dip with them. I'm relatively shy about exposing myself, not just physically but emotionally, too.
"Suit yourself." Matthew grabs Michelle by the hand, and they beeline it towards the ocean.
"So that you know, I don't skinny dip," I tell him.
Steven laughs. "Good. Because I don't either." A few comfortable beats pass between us before he speaks again. "How about we lay down, chat, and gaze up at the stars."
Taking a deep breath, I murmur. "That sounds nice."
He lies back and stretches his arm across the sand. I follow, snuggling against his side. As Steven begins to chat about his pending move to Chicago, his family, and his dog, this is precisely what getting to know someone should feel like- a subtle mixture of excitement, romance, and intrigue.
But as I gaze up into the starry sky, lying on the sand with the perfect guy, all I can see in the back of my mind is Ben.