The Sweetest Summer

Chapter Sixty-Nine - July

I felt like the stunning, hippy version of Medusa. My pastel green, one-shouldered bridesmaid dress plastered close to my chest, until it flared out around my hips and pooled just above my feet. We'd collectively decided to forgo heels, given that it was a beach venue, and my baby pink toenails dug into the beige dressing room carpet as I turned side to side.

My spray tan was a flawless golden shade, and my hair was freshly highlighted, swishing just below my collar bones where it'd grown out. The stylist braided and curled the length into a flowing, ethereal look, and I actually quite liked it. I'd passingly wondered if I'd wear it this same way when I got married...if I ever got married. I glanced down at my bare ring finger - a symbol of my even barer love life.

Since that morning with Eli, dating hadn't been my first priority. Hell, it hadn't been a priority at all. I couldn't fathom how I could do the app swiping, and first date nicey nicey, and will they, won't they, when I still loved my ex....or rather exes. One blonde and one brunette. Love in different measure, but still love nonetheless. Despite feeling like I was no longer in love with Eli, I knew I'd always have love for him....too much love.

A particularly steamy moment from our night in Paris stabbed to the front of my mind. Eli's hands on my naked body, so warm, as the wood floor stuck to my bare back. My hand found it's way up to my flushed neck, and my dilated eyes met in the mirror. Damn. That man could still do it for me...freaking hormones.

"We should really do some baby's breath? Right?! Just a little sprinkle in your hair?" Collins' shrill voice and shaking hands make an appearance next to me, and the fantasies of lovers past disappeared. Like - Poof. Bitch be gone.

"Yeah, totally." My voice was self-assured and calm, in the desperate hope that it'd be contagious. Which it wasn't. Collins' hands flitted so spastically in my hair, I seriously wondered if she would just rip the whole thing apart.

"Col." I eased, but she wasn't listening.

"Col..." I tried again, trying to intervene my fingers into the equation, but she was pulling and tugging like the solution to her cold feet sat within my hairspray.

"Hey, Collins?" An anxious male voice interrupted. "I think the caterer had a couple questions for you..."

Her hands fell from my hair at once and she pivoted towards the door. "I bet it's about those fucking chicken skewers again. I swear to God, those morons!" Her voice disappeared from somewhere beyond the door, and I exhaled a sigh of relief.

I loved my sister, I really did. But today she was being too much. The demanding, the marching around, the plain overt...bitchiness. I knew it was her defense mechanism to hide her marital reservation, but that didn't mean I liked it.

"Thank God she's gone..." Collins' overly busty best friend from high school, Shelly Swanson, lamented and the other bridesmaid, Anna Carrington, agreed. Where Shelly was curvy, Anna was like a twig. Twig straight shoulders, twig straight brown hair, and stylish clear framed glasses. Both bridesmaids were, of course, wearing my own design, and despite their current annoyed outlook, they both looked fantastic.

I practically beamed as I watched the girls check out their own reflections. This, this right here was why I'd agreed to start designing. I wanted every girl to feel beautiful in their own skin, regardless of the number their size tag read.

The girls exchanged an excited glance before hurrying around the dressing room, picking up flowers and straightening hangers. Somehow, they did nothing and everything at the same time. I felt like I was neglecting my Maid of Honor duties, and searched for something to tidy myself, but they seemed to have it covered. God, I was bad at this wedding thing...