Page 4 of Drunk In Love

Friday afternoon I arrive at Kamaya’s apartment since we’re going to the wedding venue together. Westin and Bree already live nearby in Stamford. We’re the only ones from our office who live in Jersey City, and we’ll be the last to arrive in Greenwich.

Taking the elevator up to Kamaya’s place, the tension increases in my body, knowing we’ll be spending so much time together. With the hour-long drive to Greenwich and wedding festivities this weekend, I’d be seeing a lot of her. Lately, it was difficult being around Kamaya because I felt different about our friendship, and I also know how she feels about Zach. I’ve wasted too much time daydreaming about Kam and I together, knowing it’s pointless to do so.

When Kamaya finally opens her front door, she’s only partially ready, even though she assured me we’d leave as soon as I arrived.

“Woman, you’ve had plenty of time to pack,” I call from the doorway.

Kamaya lives in a studio apartment that she should have left when her lease was up. Instead, she signed on for another fifteen months in what I lovingly call the shoebox. She insisted she didn’t need a bigger place, but the way she nearly bumps into her things scattered about her place drives me crazy.

“This place is way too small,” I say.

“It’s intimate, cozy!” she yells back, heading towards her closet.

I shake my head. There’s no getting through to her about this apartment. The only plus side is I didn’t worry about her in this area of the city, and she was close to the train station to get to Manhattan and work. Most of her family, except for her youngest sister, lived close by in Fort Lee. Other than me, she was on her own over here now that Nicole was around a lot less.

Thankfully, I was able to keep a close eye on her even when we weren’t at work.

“I’m ready to go,” she says, finally moving her suitcase near the door.

“Are you sure?” I ask, pointedly looking up at her hair.

“Omigod, the satin rollers!” she exclaims, reaching to remove the items from her hair. “Thank you for reminding me! I would have walked out of here looking a mess. I’m a little too comfortable around you and didn’t even think about the rollers.”

I try, unsuccessfully, to suppress my laugh. She looked adorable trying to run to the bathroom and remove the contraptions in her hair at the same time.

“What are friends for? I’m going to take these to the car,” I say, pulling the handle on her suitcase. “Think you’ll be ready by the time I come back up?”

“Yes, I’ll be quick,” she says.

Once Kamaya finally finishes her hair, we are able to get to Connecticut in just under the projected hour on Google Maps. The drive north is fortunately uneventful, minus some traffic as we get closer to our exit. Kamaya and I like a lot of the same music artists, and our ride to the venue is chill. One thing about our friendship is how easy it is to get along. We teased each other at times, but we were peas in a pod.

The hotel and resort where Ava and Brandon are getting married is one of the nicest I’ve ever seen. Not that I expected any less with both of them coming from wealthy families and having successful businesses of their own. Ava is a chef turned food influencer. The popularity of her social media and cookbook made her a celebrity. Brandon came from a wealthy English family and had received an inheritance years prior. If the hotel was anything to go by, no expense had been spared for their wedding.

Kamaya releases a low whistle before getting out of the car. “This is exceedingly elegant.”

“Agreed,” I say.

The Circle Hill Hotel has even more lush acres of grass than the website did justice. The main club house looks like an old ranch-style mansion. Acres upon acres of finely mowed grass surround a manmade lake. The hotel grounds with a cobbled walkway make the space seem cozy, though the grounds are sprawling.

At the check-in desk, the attendant provides us our keys, and we realize our rooms are next to each other. This scenario is ideal since if our rooms were separate, Kam and I would spend most of the time trekking to the other person’s room. But knowing that Kam will be separated from me by only a wall has me feeling apprehensive.

Just how thick were the walls in these rooms anyway? The times when we’d actually be in our rooms would be distracting to say the least. Hearing Kam in the shower and picturing her nude, wet body could be awkward. Or worse, what if she hooked up with a guy while we were here and I had a front row seat to hearing them?

Or even worse, what if she hooked up with Zach?

The last thing I wanted was a front row seat to Kamaya with anyone, but especially Zach Stapely. There is something smarmy about the man that I’ve never liked. Kamaya could certainly do better. Since she thought I was already so anti-love, I’m certain my advice against the man would fall on deaf ears.

“Earth to Max,” Kamaya says, waving her hand in front of me.

“Right,” I say, reaching for the handles to our bags.

“This hotel is incredible,” Kamaya says as we walk to the far end of the hallway. “Rare to get a room on the first floor, huh?”

“Yeah, we’ll be very close to all the action,” I say, seeing the entrance to the area where Brandon and Ava will be exchanging their vows tomorrow.

“Here’s your key card,” she says, extracting mine from the two in her hand while I push her bag into her room.

“This room is lovely,” I hear Kamaya say right before we each enter our respective rooms.

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