Page 75 of Totally Opposed

“I was about to say the same thing,” he says.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah, you are. Oh, sorry. Were you looking at the tent?”

“It’s a marquee, but yeah, I was.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m distracted by my incredibly beautiful boyfriend.”

“You’re excused, I guess.”

With an oomph, Tim wraps his arms over our shoulders from behind and sticks his face between ours.

“Ready to party, boys,” he cheers as a few more people start to make their way in to find their seats.

“Sounds like you are,” Alan replies, and Tim leans in closer.

“Hey, does that guy look familiar?” he asks, nodding towards where a tall handsome guy in a server uniform is placing water jugs on the tables and side-eyeing us.

“Not really,” I reply.

“I swear I’ve seen him before,” Tim says, and I take another look. He doesn’t seem familiar to me, but he keeps looking our way out of the corner of his eye with a growing smile on his lips. It certainly seems like he might know one of us.

“Maybe he’s just a fan?” Alan offers, and Tim releases us.

“Yeah, maybe. Oh well, fellas, I’m headed to the bar. You want a drink?” Tim asks.

“Lead the way,” I reply, and we follow Tim to grab a drink while we wait for the rest of the bride and groom to arrive.

Thankfully, we don’t have to wait long. Two drinks in, we’re ushered to our tables to cheer as the newlyweds dance their way into the reception to an acoustic version ofCheerleaderby OMI. The second they step onto the dancefloor though, the music changes to the song that led them to today, Love Story by Taylor Swift, and Stevie holds Bella close for their first official dance and husband and wife.

Alan squeezes my hand as the song comes to a close, and he lifts it and presses his lips against the back of my hand.

Tim cheers beside us. “Come on boys, back to the bar.”

“I was actually thinking of asking my boyfriend here if he’d like to dance,” Alan replies.

“Really?” I ask, and Alan stands.

Tim leaves us to go get the first of what is likely to be many, many drinks. I swear Aussies are built differently. He can finish a dozen beers and still hold a conversation. I have four and I’m tripping all over myself.

“I believe this is our song,” Alan says, and only then do I hear it. An acoustic version ofHold Me Closerby Elton and Britney is playing, and when I glance over to the dancefloor both Bella and Stevie are smiling our way.

“You asked them to play this for us?”

“I asked them to play this for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love making you smile.”

I let him lead me onto the dance floor.

Others start to join in, too, and by the time the music shifts into another song, the dancefloor is full of people.

“So, there was something I did need to talk to you about,” Alan says, his tone shifting into his serious voice.

“You can talk to me about anything.”

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