Page 77 of Savannah Sweethearts

I nodded, understanding her slight warning. “Thank you. And you never know. Maybe this one will look at you like that.” I gestured to Tierney. Linaya released my arm and grabbed his.

“We’re off. That was fun.” Linaya pulled her date closer to her. “Y’all have fun. Not too much fun, though.” She winked at me. Or maybe at her sister. I wasn’t sure.

Amaya’s mouth formed an O. “That goes doubly for you two.” She stepped after her sister, but I took her arm. “Linny, I mean it,” she called after her sister.

When I held firm to her hand, she quieted. “She’ll be okay. She’s a big girl.”

“When did that happen?” Amaya squeezed my hand. “Just last week she was five and heading to kindergarten.”

“You two are close.”

She looked at me with a pout. “We are. Growing up as the only Thai kids in town, eating strange Thai food when everyone else had sandwiches, we learned to stick together.” It was then that she looked down at our still entwined fingers. “Do you think it’s strange that I’m a quarter Asian?”

I pulled her close to me and we settled just outside the theater’s lamplight. “Why would I think that’s strange? You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met, you’re smart, you’re close with your family. I see nothing amiss.”

“I just, being Asian in the south is weird.” She pulled her hand from mine and rubbed her arms.

“Says who?” My brow knit together in confusion. Who would say such a thing?

“It’s just, Kyle always said…”

I put my finger to her lips. I had learned a little about her ex Kyle, and from what Linaya had just told me, I knew he was every bit as bad as he seemed. Probably worse. “Kyle wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit him. You are not a perfect human being, because none of us are. But you are perfectly you. Never change. And I love that you come from a beautiful and rich culture.”

I watched her throat constrict as she swallowed. “You do?”

“Only an idiot wouldn’t, Amaya.”

“Oh.”

In that moment, she leaned in close to me, placing her hands on my chest. My hands instinctively went over hers and ran their way up her arms. Inches separated us and the distance was closing.

Taking the initiative, I placed my hands on the back of her head and closed the gap between us. My lips brushed hers lightly at first, then with more resolve. My mind raced, hoping she was going to kiss me back, and in a nanosecond she was. Her thin fingers pushed lightly on my collar as she dug her nails in. Her body followed, pressing into mine.

When we finally broke apart, Amaya took a deep breath. “That… That was…”

I finished for her. “That was amazing.”

She giggled. “It was.”

I furrowed my brow. “Wait. We might need to make sure that wasn’t a fluke and try it again.”

She laughed. “Oh, definitely. For science.”

We spun around and I pushed her against the brick wall and kissed her again. This time deeper and longer. My hands skimmed down the length of her arms and wrapped around hers, pulling them up between us.

“Yeah, still amazing,” I said between kisses.

“One more to make sure,” she giggled. I was all too happy to oblige.

Amaya

Once again I found myself donning a bridesmaid dress I would have never chosen in a million years. If I ever got married, I would have an incredibly hard time picking a bridesmaid’s dress because I had seen and worn everything. This time it was a mint green ballgown with a dyed to match top hat. Even though I advised the bride, a mother of two named Riviera, against the hat, she had insisted, claiming the groom would find it hilarious.

The groomsmen began to cackle as the bridesmaids walked into the church narthex where they waited. I rolled my eyes at the four middle-aged men who were laughing so hard tears came to their eyes. I was, yet again, paired up with the worst of the bunch. Brides, I had come to realize, did this on purpose. I wasn’t their friend, so I was paired with the most obnoxious of their groom’s friends. That was so their own friends wouldn’t have to deal with them. I understood, but that didn’t make the awful guy any less awful for me.

This time it was a forty-year-old gym rat with huge muscles and bleached blonde hair. He was attractive, but he knew it and thought he was God’s gift to women. Spoiler alert—he was not. He wiped his eyes as he approached me and slapped the top of the hat, causing it to shove into my ears. I winced from the pain and stepped back.

“Okay, everyone, let’s get lined up.” There was no pretense of being the bride’s friend. I was a hired hand and everybody knew it. “Let’s get our flower girl up front.”

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