Page 33 of Our Big White Lie
Our engagement photos, however, were coming up fast. Like, really fast—today was Saturday, and our session was on Tuesday afternoon.
Regardless of Tori’s stressful day, there were some things we needed to talk about sooner than later.
After we’d tossed our takeout dishes, we opened up a bottle of wine and settled back on the couch. Tucker draped himself across the back of it, a paw hanging down between us and his long tail laying across Tori’s shoulder.
I wasn’t nearly as relaxed, and the wine wasn’t helping as much as I would’ve liked. Even a second glass of wine didn’t help. Oh well. Not much I could do, and I wasn’t going to sleep tonight if I didn’t bring this up.
I faced Tori and took a deep breath. “So, while I was taking a break from addressing invites today…” I sipped my wine. “I was looking through our photographer’s engagement portfolio, and also the trends on social media.”
Her eyebrows climbed. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And there’s…” I chewed my lip, staring into my wineglass. “There are some, uh, pretty popular poses and stuff, you know?”
“Right. I figured there would be.” She was studying me—I could feel it even without looking at her. “So… is there a trend you want to do? Or not do?”
“It’s… It’s not that.” I took a gulp of wine, put my glass on the end table, and twisted toward her, pulling my knee up on the cushion between us. My heart was going absolutely nuts, and it didn’t get any better when I met Tori’s puzzled and concerned expression. I could only imagine where her mind was going. What she might be thinking was on the tip of my tongue if I was this worried over something seemingly small.
I just needed to blurt this out and be done with it.
So, I did:
“Every single couple has at least one engagement photo of them kissing.” I swallowed. “And I’m thinking maybe if we want to sell this, our first time kissing shouldn’t be in front of a camera on our engagement shoot.”
Tori’s eyes went wide and her lips rounded into anO. Then she whispered, “And it definitely shouldn’t be at the wedding.”
“Right? I… I swear, every step of this feels like we’re getting in over our heads, but…” I tipped my spinning head toward the pile of invites, which were about three-quarters complete. “We’re in a bit far to turn back, you know?”
She gulped. “Yeah. We are. And I don’t want to turn back. Just… It’s a lot.”
“It is. But we’ve got our engagement shoot this week. I, uh…” I had to fight hard not to let my gaze flick to her lips. “If that shouldn’t be the first time, then…”
Some color rose in Tori’s cheeks. She exhaled, then finished her wine in one go. As she leaned forward to put the empty glass on the coffee table, she said, “Guess we don’t have a lot of time, do we?”
“No. We don’t.” My heart slammed against my ribs as she sat back on the couch. “So we should… I mean, I don’t really know what…”
“There’s probably only one thing wecando,” she said, and I pretended not to notice the way she glanced at my lips. Or the way her blush deepened. Or how cute it was to see her as shy and flustered as I was in this moment.
We stared at each other in silence. Beside us, Tucker gave a heavy sigh, rolled onto his back, and put his paw over his face.
Tori and I both glanced at him, but neither of us spoke. Not to comment on him. Not to suggest a direction for this awkward little standoff to go.
It was Tori who finally broke the silence: “More wine?”
“More wine.”
We both jumped up and headed for the kitchen, glasses in hand.
As she poured a little too much into each glass, she said, “Don’t take this as me saying the only way someone would want to kiss you is with liquid courage.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” I took one of the glasses. “I don’t think anyone would need it to kiss you either. I just?—”
She looked at me right then, and my train of thought jumped the tracks.
No, I couldn’t imagine needing alcohol to kiss someone as gorgeous as Tori. She’d been cute when we were teenagers, and she was absolutely stunning in her twenties. While she’d been with Jillian, she’d lost a lot of her shine, weighed down by the stress and toxicity of that miserable relationship. In the year since they’d split up, though, she’d blossomed right back to life. Her mischievous eyes, full lips, adorable grin—I mean, what wasn’t jaw-dropping about her? Fact was, if the woman standing in front of me had been a stranger on a dancefloor, I’d have gravitated toward her without a second thought. I’d have been excruciatingly shy and awkward, and I’d probably have blown it, but I’d have certainly been drawn to her.
But this was just some stranger in a nightclub. This was Tori. My best friend for most of my life. The woman who was willing to turn her life on its head just to give my mom an amazing memory before we lost her.
That should’ve made this easier, shouldn’t it?
