Since You Happened by Holly Hall

Chapter 12

On the third Friday in October, Landon picks me up at my apartment and we head west for Aspen, on the way to my friend Mallory’s wedding. It’s a new experience for us, spending almost three-and-a-half hours together in a car, but after almost two hours in, I take it as a good sign that we don’t want to kill each other yet. Landon takes the ball cap off his head and places it on mine, handing over his phone that’s playing music through the car stereo.

“Take it away, copilot.”

I look between him and the screen, raising an eyebrow. “Sure you’re ready for this?”

“I was born ready, babe.”

With that comment in mind, I flip his hat backwards and search for a Nineties station, because what else would you want to listen to on a road trip? When I find the perfect song, I don’t hesitate to turn up the volume on TLC’s “No Scrubs.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks teasingly, after I belt out the chorus.

“Yep. This is where it’s at. Right here.” I begin to sing the next verse, using the phone in my hand as a microphone, and Landon just gives me a crooked smile that warms his eyes and sends a thrill running through me.

It’s not long before we reach Twin Lakes and the scenery becomes way too pretty to focus on selecting music. The leaves have already begun changing, splashing the stoic mountainsides with color. I don’t need to question what Landon is doing when he pulls over at a scenic overlook; the view speaks for itself.

We both exit the car and walk to the edge of the cliff-side, taking in the stunning views in silence. The golden leaves of the aspens below quake in the breeze, and above us, iron-gray storm clouds gather over the mountains. The overcast day only makes the colors of the earth appear more saturated, and I can’t help but pull out my phone to take a photo.

“Mom will kill me if I don’t send her a picture,” I explain. I take a few before Landon jumps in, pretending to moon the camera.

“Rude!” I yell at him, raising my leg to kick him. He grabs my foot, and I let out a shriek that echoes for miles around as he yanks me toward him. He wraps his arms around my waist from behind.

“Don’t just stand there, take one of us,” he says beside my ear. I’m only too willing to oblige, and I hold the phone out to where we’re in focus on the screen, with the splash of fall colors behind us, and snap a photo. It’s the first photo of us together, and I know it will be a memorable one.

“Good one,” I confirm, swiping through them. I share one on social media so I can tag Mallory in a post to tell her we’re on the way. Then I squint up at the clouds. “Think that’s headed this way?”

Landon appraises the clouds, placing his hands on his hips and giving me a confident, “No way.” I almost laugh out loud at how fast fat drops of rain begin falling not two minutes after. I just shake my head at Landon with a disbelieving smile on my face, and we trot off toward the car before we’re caught in a torrential downpour.

And a torrential downpour it becomes. Rain seems to travel sideways as it lashes against the car, pounding the outside with a deafening roar. I try to peer out the window, but visibility is minimal. A groan escapes my lips, and I turn to him worriedly.

“Twenty percent chance of rain, my ass! Mallory’s going to be pissed.” I look back out the window, and I feel his fingers trail up my forearm before gently squeezing my bicep.

“Hey. Don’t worry about the rain. Some of the best photos are taken in shitty weather.” I turn toward him, meeting his earnest gaze. He leans over the console and plants a kiss on my lips. It’s just a peck at first, but I’m not sure how just a peck can be filled with that much heat. He draws away just a few inches, his eyes meeting mine, something passing between us in the absence of words. I close the distance, placing my lips back on his.

He runs his fingers up my neck and into my hair, kissing me slowly at first, seducing me with just the caress of his lips to the song of raindrops crashing down around us. Then his tongue dips into my mouth, and things become a lot more hurried. Landon’s left hand slides to the side of his seat, moving it backwards to give us more room while the other is around my waist, pulling me toward him.

I maneuver over the console, planting my knees on either side of his hips and lowering myself onto his lap. My hands are gripping the nape of his neck while one of his is wrapped in my hair and the other is gripping my thigh. He unbuttons my chambray shirt, trailing kisses down my neck as he slips each button out of its hole, until his tongue finds a trail it travels up between my breasts. My breaths come quicker as we move against each other. Before this, I wasn’t sure such passion could be shared between two people fully clothed, but I’m realizing it now.

Just as his hand travels down the smooth plane of my stomach, a piercing sound from seemingly out of nowhere rips through the silence. I nearly jump out of his seat in surprise, bumping my head on the roof, before I realize it was just the rude honk of a passing car. When I look down at him, rubbing the throbbing spot on my head, he begins to laugh, deep and rich, his head dropping back against the seat. My heartbeat is almost loud enough to where we can both hear it, but as his laugh fills the car, I can’t stop myself when I join in, too.

We both laugh until we’re struggling to breathe and clutching our stomachs, and I sit back against the steering wheel and wipe the tears from my eyes. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack and you did nothing,” I try to say sternly, but the comment tapers off with a giggle.

“I couldn’t help it. Swear. It was like all the blood drained from your face and your eyes got as big as baseballs.”

I squeeze his cheeks together with my hand so he can’t say anything else, and kiss his puckered lips before checking the time. The rain is still steadily drumming away, but it’s not near as ferocious as it was originally. “We should go, anyway. Especially if the roads will be bad.”

I clamber back over to my seat, and Landon rubs a hand over his face, as if to sober himself up, then switches on the ignition. “Alright. I’ve got to admit, though, that was one helluva view,” he says with a wolfish grin. I just give him a filthy look and button up my shirt in answer.  

Due to our pit-stop, we have to pull over at the next gas station we see to change into our rehearsal dinner outfits in the restroom to save time. I’m not sure I’ve experienced anything as undignified as changing into a dress in a tiny stall, while trying to remain standing on top of my sneakers so my feet don’t come into contact with the dirty floors, but it gets the job done. When I walk out of the women’s restroom, Landon is already waiting for me in the hallway, casually leaning against the wall in a white, button-up shirt and gray slacks. His hair no longer looks like he’s been wearing a ball cap all day, so he must have done something to it, but I’m glad he’s kept his stubble. I run my hand over his cheek, relishing the feel of the prickles on my palm, and we head out to the car.

We make it to the rehearsal dinner site ten minutes early. It’s a restaurant and lodge that looks like it has emerged from the surrounding mountainside, made up of massive logs and dark stone. A welcoming fire crackles in the hearth at the center of the seating area just inside, and when we walk into the banquet room, I’m ambushed by what I can only describe as a Tasmanian devil garbed in white.

“Thank. God. You’re. Here.” Mallory says each word through gritted teeth, grabbing both of my hands. She gives me a forced smile and a big hug, like she’s only just realized we haven’t seen each other in months.

“Of course! Are you okay?” I hold her at arm’s length and examine her, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her lace dress and nude pumps. Nothing looks out of place besides her panicked expression. I sense Landon’s presence behind me, but I have to worry about damage control before making introductions.

“I’ve been more than okay until now, when my mother-in-law informed me that fifteen family members have no place on the seating chart. Fifteen special family members.”

I nod while my mind struggles to catch up to my million-mile-a-minute friend, following her scathing gaze over to where a woman sits, cackling over a glass of wine with a few other ladies who look to be a few bottles into the night. If anyone notices the heat of that look, nothing will be enough to quell the drama that will ensue.

“Okay, Mallory? Look at me. We’ll go over the seating chart later tonight and find a place for them. What’s fifteen extra people?” I look over at Landon, but he just stares back at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise. I try to communicate with a sharp look that I need him to be encouraging, and he immediately nods along with me. “If we need to add chairs to a few different tables, we will. No big deal.”

He leans in a bit closer, whispering conspiratorially. “If they throw a fit about splitting up, remind them that it’s not their fucking wedding, and if they have a problem with that, they can leave.” She looks from him to me as if she’s in a trance, praying for what we’re saying to be true.

“Exactly. This is your rehearsal dinner, though, okay? Let’s try to forget about it for now.” It’s almost as if the words snap her out of whatever freak-out moment she’s going through, because she nods vigorously, then peers around me at Landon.

“Look at me, accepting wedding advice from someone I haven’t even met! How can I be so rude? This is your date!” She beams, holding out a hand to shake his.

“I’m Landon. It’s nice to finally meet you; Blake has told me a lot about you.” Landon reaches past and clasps her fiancé’s hand next. “Congratulations, man!” I watch as he and Tom smile and shake each other’s hands heartily, unsure if I’ll ever understand the mystery of men and their automatic familiarity with one another. Meanwhile, Mallory is shooting me questioning looks. I know she can’t wait to pry.

“Blake hasn’t told me enough about you,” Mallory says to Landon, smiling at him briefly before redirecting her suspicious gaze to me.

“I’ll fill you in on everything,” I promise her, though she’ll be disappointed to learn that “everything” isn’t really all that much.

Mallory points Landon and I toward our respective seats before being stolen away by a relative, and we head in that direction after grabbing drinks from the bar. Thankfully, Scott, my ex-boyfriend, is nowhere in sight. I’m not tipsy nor mentally prepared enough to deal with seeing him. For some reason, tension has never ceased to exist between us, despite the six years it’s been since breaking up. I’m sure it has something to do with him telling all our mutual friends that I was the lying cheater in order to redirect the negative attention, but that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of another advantage to moving to a larger city: a population of people who are too busy to care about every aspect of your life.

Landon and I take our places between one of the bridesmaid’s dates and an empty chair that belongs to Blair—another classmate from high school—according to the place card, and I lean close to him as he takes a sip of his drink. “We haven’t come up with our story yet.”

“Our story?” he asks, as if he’s not sure we should have a story.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not exactly tasteful to say we’re friends with benefits, right? We need to be consistent, or people will suspect something scandalous is going on. Are you going to be my work colleague who just likes to attend weddings, or like, my gay best friend who’s come to play wing man? What’s it going to be?” He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “What?” I hiss.

“Nothing.” He rotates toward me and takes both my hands in his, looking around at the dinner guests before his gaze returns to me, all smoldering amber. “We’ve known each other for about two months, so it’s still early. But you really, really like me.” I remove one of my hands from his grip to swat him on the shoulder. “What? The best lies contain truths,” he exclaims, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“In that case, you should tell them I only like you for your penis.”

“I wasn’t finished yet, but I won’t forget you said that. I really, really like you, too. Better?” I nod, my heart beating with the intensity of a tap dancer, and he continues. “We met at a swanky little prohibition lounge. You were dancing to Jazz. I was drinking bourbon. From the moment you climbed onto the bar, I knew I had to meet you.”

“Hey,” I scold him again.

“Not into it? Okay. From the moment I saw you drop it low, I knew I had to meet you. After that, it’s history. We can’t get enough of each other.”

I’m still smiling at his ridiculous humor, but my eyes drift down to watch his lips by the end of his statement. There’s some truth to that.

“I don’t know enough about medicine to pretend to be a doctor, though. So you’re stuck with the dusty old bookstore owner.” He gives me a charming grin that awakens a fluttering feeling in my stomach.

“You didn’t forget your walker at home, did you?” I ask with mock seriousness before running a hand through his hair. “At least I convinced you to wash all that bookstore dust off and get a haircut for the occasion.”

“I only did it on one condition, though,” he says, holding up one finger. “Anal.”

“Oh my God!” I swat his shoulder again and he chuckles, taking another drink.

“Okay, fine. I lost a bet to you on a fantasy football game.”

“That’s more like it,” I say approvingly, and he leans over and presses a kiss to my temple. After those rare, tender gestures, my head swims before I can steel myself against it.

“You guys are cute,” a familiar voice says over my shoulder, and I turn to see that it’s Blair.

“Blair! It’s been way too long,” I stand up to give her a hug, maneuvering around her pregnant belly.

“I know, I know. I haven’t wanted to travel too far away from home. Pregnancy jitters, I guess. Who’s the lucky guy?” she asks, turning her hazel-eyed gaze to Landon.

“This is Landon. Landon, Blair.” I gesture between them as they shake hands. “Blair was Mallory’s roommate in college, and we all got to know each other when I would go visit them in Boulder.”

“Nice to meet you, Landon. What brings you to Mallory’s wedding?” Blair asks casually, though by her arched eyebrow, I know she’s fishing for information.

Landon doesn’t miss a beat. “This beautiful girl right here. She mentioned having to go to a wedding, and I basically begged her to let me crash. I’m a sucker for wedding bands,” he says with a friendly wink, and I sit back and watch. It’s rare to see him with his guard down. I find myself hoping it will last.

“We have that in common. I may be six-months pregnant, but they don’t call me the Texas Twister for nothing.” She holds out her glass of water, and Landon and I clink our glasses with hers.

“Where’s Brent?” I ask, looking around for her husband.

“He’s on shift at the fire station and couldn’t take off, unfortunately.” She shrugs and sips from her glass with a raised pinky. “So Mama’s on her own this weekend!” Landon and I both laugh at her enthusiasm, exchanging more small talk and catching up on the latest news from our college group.

It’s only when Mallory’s dad steps up to the front of the room to thank everyone for coming and bless the meal that I realize I haven’t bothered keeping a lookout for Scott. I only have to follow the sounds of the noisiest table in the banquet room to find him seated among the groomsmen with a glass of what looks like whiskey on the rocks in hand. A pair of frameless glasses perches on the bridge of his nose. Since when does he wear glasses? I instantly suspect he’s only wearing them because they make him look smarter than he actually is. He’s always been a sucker for attention. From what Mallory’s told me, he landed some job as an analyst at a commercial real estate office. How that happened, I have no clue. He was never one to value studying over binge drinking and picking up girls.

My eyes skate right over him, as if he’s not even a blip on my radar. I guess he isn’t. I’m pleased that I don’t feel anything when I see him. Not one thing. A feeling of triumph almost overtakes me before I realize why. The trauma of the years following that relationship didn’t leave much room in my mind or my heart to miss a cheating ex-boyfriend.

Landon’s chair squeaks against the floor as he stands beside me, bringing me back to the present. “They just called our table to go through the line,” he explains when I blink up at him. I push back my chair and stand, straightening the deep green dress I wore for the occasion. Luckily, the bridesmaids were called before the groomsmen, so I don’t have to worry about running into Scott just yet.

We make our way through the line, accepting heaps of Southern food on our plates before returning to our table. Landon nudges me, and when I look over, I have to stifle a laugh as he tucks his napkin into the collar of his dress shirt and holds his fork and knife with all the grace of a caveman.

“It’s a good look on you.” I nod as though I’m impressed.

“Fun fact: when I was traveling around Asia for two months, the food I missed most was good old Southern barbecue,” he says, waving a bite of chicken doused in barbecue sauce on his fork.

“What were you doing traveling around Asia?” Blair turns toward him between bites, immediately interested.

“I was a photographer. I traveled a lot a few years ago, shooting landscapes for various publications,” Landon says, and I don’t miss how carefully he says the words, like he’s walking on eggshells.

Was? Why would you ever quit? Sounds like a dream.” I know the question is innocent coming from her, but I hold my breath in anticipation of his answer.

“I actually still take photos. I just stay local, now.”

“I find it hard to believe that, out of everything else, you missed barbecue the most,” I interject smoothly, without making it obvious that I altered the conversation on purpose. By the look on Blair’s face, I don’t think she noticed.

Landon waves his hand over his plate with gusto. “Brisket, ribs, pulled pork. I was basically salivating over it in my dreams every night before my trip was over.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I murmur, shaking my head as I take a bite of brisket.

“Okay, hotshot, what would you miss if you were on the other side of the world for that long?”

I pretend to think really hard for a few seconds, though I already know that answer. It’s my meal of choice if it was the last thing I ate. “Chicken fried steak. Hands down. With toast and mashed potatoes.”

Landon appraises me through narrowed eyes before he nods, satisfied with my answer. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

“I would give a kidney just to have a bottle of wine all to myself right now,” Blair says, and just like that, we’re back to laughing and discussing the ups and downs of pregnancy.

Once most of the guests have finished their dinner, and what is probably an alarming amount of alcohol, it’s time for the speeches.

Jenna, the maid of honor, goes with a typical heartfelt speech, in which tears are shed and smiles are exchanged as she reminisces about her and Mallory’s lives together, beginning when they met on the swing set in kindergarten. In the middle of it, Landon leans over.

“So which one is the poor bastard?”

I automatically know which bastard he’s referring to, and I subtly incline my head toward the table of groomsmen. “Glasses,” I murmur out of the side of my mouth, just as Jenna finishes her speech.

Landon and I clap along as he examines Scott and finally says, “Damn. He outkicked his coverage with you.” I just give him a gracious smile while inwardly telling my leaping heart to calm the fuck down.

The best man goes a different direction entirely, perhaps sharing a bit too much about the bachelor party, which leaves one of the groomsmen falling out of his chair in laughter and Mallory’s parents blushing. Landon laughs heartily beside me before asking what kind of wedding I’ve brought him to. Knowing Tom the way I do, I know that no matter how scandalous his bachelor party sounds, he would never betray Mallory, so I just laugh along with the rest of the group.

Tom stands up next to announce that he’s prepared a surprise slideshow for Mallory, whose mouth slackens in shock. I watch as he goes to sit beside her, scooting his chair closer while they take a photographical journey through their relationship. Some of their pictures are un-posed candids, while some show them carefully situated in front of a fireplace, a ski lift, or beside a giant snowman they must have built together.

In real time, Mallory is openly sobbing into Tom’s shoulder, and his head is bent low as he murmurs something to her. I have to admit, I’ve never believed in “soulmates,” and I’ve had my reservations when it comes to marriage in the past few years, doubting anyone could look beyond the baggage of my past to love someone so damaged, but seeing the both of them leaves me with no doubt that they were meant for each other. The icicles on my heart thaw a little as it swells with happiness that Mallory’s found someone like that, who treasures her for the incredible woman she is, and by the time the night ends, I’m probably just as excited about tomorrow as she is.