Page 24 of Aisle Come Back to You

“I don’t know why. I’m not worth looking at. Believe me, there’s a reason I prefer to be behind the camera rather than in front of it.”

I loudly scoff. “Stop it. You’re gorgeous, and you’re most definitely someone that people want to look at. I think you’re forgetting that I saw you the other day in that dress and know how good you looked in it,” I say, doing my best not to think about how close I came to almost seeing her without it too. “While Ronnie is going to be the main attraction and look amazing while doing it, it’s going to be hard not to look your way as well, and I’m sure others are going to feel the same.”

There’s a chance I’m biased since I’ve always found it hard not to look Blair’s way. From the first day of school, when I’d just moved in and saw her across the classroom, I’d felt something and knew that she was different—someone that I needed to get to know. At just eleven years old, I’d been smitten, and from that day on, I’ve found myself completely mesmerized and enthralled by her.

Looking at the ground, she shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.” She blushes as I reach into my back pocket and slip out my cell phone. After quickly unlocking the screen, I point the camera toward her, and snap a picture.

Hearing the small click, Blair looks up, eyes wide with shock. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m showing you just how beautiful you look on camera.”

“And you really think that’s going to work?” she asks, popping out her hip as she places her free hand on top of it.

With that, I take another picture as her mouth drops open, causing me to snap another, capturing the moment perfectly. Despite the annoyed look on her face, a laugh escapes her lips as she takes a few steps closer while lifting her hand to block the view of the camera. I take a few steps back myself and continue to snap picture after picture while carefully dodging all her attempts to reach for my phone.

“Stop,” she begs, but it’s accompanied by another beautiful giggle as I take yet another shot before she finally manages toyank the phone from my hand. “You know I’m deleting these immediately, right?”

“You better not,” I warn, moving to stand next to her as she pulls up the pictures. As predicted, she looks perfect, even if she doesn’t look all that convinced.

“And why not? I mean, look at this one; it’s blurry,” she protests, stopping at one of the pictures where her hand is held out in front of her. Sure, she has a point, but there’s something uniquely beautiful about it as well, especially since you can see just how in the moment she is. If anything, it’s nice to see a genuine smile on her face again, especially after going so long without having it to brighten up my life and my world.

“Hey, I never claimed to be the professional photographer here, but that’s not the point. The point is, you look great in every single one, even the ones that are blurry or out of focus.”

“Fine, keep them if you want.” She shrugs, shoving the phone back into my hands. “It’s your phone storage that’s going to suffer.”

“That’s what the cloud is for,” I answer with a smug smile.

“What’s the cloud for?” Ronnie asks, appearing behind us.

“Nothing important,” Blair answers first. “Plus, we need to hurry. We don’t want to miss this light. It’s almost golden hour, and I’m not about to miss it due to Ford’s ridiculous shenanigans.”

Ronnie looks at me with a questioning brow, but I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “Go on, we can’t have you missing this golden hour,” I say, dismissing them with a wave of my hand.

Ronnie bites down on her lip, making it clear she wants to press the issue. She’s always been the noisiest one out of the group, but she ultimately decides not to miss out on the perfect moment and picture as she lifts her dress once more and scurries after Blair toward the tree line.

I’m unsure if I truly convinced Blair, but as she glances back over her shoulder one last time, smiling and shaking her head in a way that sends warmth throughout my body, it no longer matters. As usual, it’s always a win in my book when I get to see her smile like that, especially when it’s a smile that’s exclusively meant for me.

13

Ford

Blair was right—I should’vedeleted those pictures of her from my phone. Not because of storage concerns, but because I constantly find myself looking back at them like some obsessed stalker. Even after only a few days without seeing her, my body still reacts to nothing more than the mere thought of her. It’s pathetic. Hell,I’mpathetic.

I’d been hopeful a few days apart would bring clarity and remind me of all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but now I can’t help but question if she’s wrong about us. Even after all these years, she’s still on my mind more than she should be, and there has to be a logical explanation as to why that is. It’s either that, or I’m nothing more than a pathetic loser who can’t stop dwelling on the past and the woman I let slip through my fingers. I’d much prefer it to be the first option, since at least then I’d have the option to fix things and make it right.

Despite everything, though, I’m reminding myself once again that today isn’t the day to dwell on this, especially since this isanother significant day for our other best friend. I’m not invited to the actual bridal shower—even though I’m part of the wedding party—it turns out Pete’s family is incredibly traditional and requested that today be women-only. I can’t say I mind that I’ve never been invited to a bridal shower, including my soon-to-be ex-wife’s; I’m perfectly fine with keeping that tradition alive.

Ronnie and Blair didn’t let my lack of invitation stop them from asking for my help though. Knowing that they’d need someone to assist with the heavy lifting, they enlisted me to set up the tables and chairs under a large white tent that’s been placed in the spacious backyard of Pete and Ronnie’s soon-to-be-home.

Luckily, the temperature outside is still pretty mild, given that it’s mid-spring here in Colorado, but I still feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I pause to catch my breath and lift the bottom of my shirt to wipe it away. I don’t know what they were thinking when they asked me, of all people, to help with this particular job. There are much bigger and likely more capable men who can handle all this lifting, but I’m doing my best to remain useful.

“Showing off those abs are we? Blair asks, amusement lacing her tone as she stops at a nearby table that I’d just set up so she can add the finishing details. The women have gone all-out with today’s event, with each table getting a light blue tablecloth with a blue-and-white flower centerpiece adorned with greenery and candles.

“Does it count if I don’t actually have any of those?” I chuckle, well aware of the fact that I don’t have anything to show off in that department. I wouldn’t say I’m overly thin, but I also don’t exactly have anything to brag about either, with little to no muscles in sight. If anything, if one were to say something about my stomach, they’d likely say it was flat as a pancake.

“I didn’t think it looked too bad.” She shrugs, adjusting the light blue tablecloth so that it falls perfectly flat.

I can’t stand the goofy grin that pops up, but it’s impossible not to smile at her compliment. I’ve always been a pushover for any nice sentiment she sends in my direction, and I’ll happily embrace any praise she’ll willingly give me, even if she likely didn’t mean much by it. I’m basically her own personal obsessed golden retriever, but isn’t that seen as a good thing these days?

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