Page 69 of Badd Baby

Robbie, prepping her scalp for the custom wig Raquel was going to wear, flipped a hand. "Don't mind me, girlies. Anything you say in here is covered by a doctor-patient confidentiality clause. Or something like that.” He winked at Raquel in the mirror. "So spill it, sister."

Raquel snickered. "Fine. It doesn't hurt that Hamish is hung like a horse." She bit her lip, gaze twinkling with amusement and love. "He knows how to use it, too. But it's not just that. When I first started hanging out with him, I was sort of…I didn't expect to feel the way I do about him. He's the first and only white guy I’ve ever dated, and I wasn’t sure what to expect…in that department. But it turned out it didn't matter. We took that slow, ya'll. We didn't sleep together for almost three months. By that point, I didn't care what he was packing, I just wanted him." She looked at me in the mirror. "I knew I loved him, even though on paper our relationship made no sense. We're from two totally different worlds. But he gets me. I dunno how, but he does. He shouldn’t understand me, you know? He's from a little rural town in Scotland, and I'm from Compton. But…that shit don't matter—at all. We both worked our asses off to escape where we were from. His culture may be totally alien to me and vice versa, but who he is? The man he is? How he treats me? That's what matters. He doesn't need to know anything about Black American culture to love me. And I don't need to know anything about Scottish culture to love him. We love each other—the rest is just details."

"I love that for you, Raquel," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm saying, Rune, that you and Duncan aren't even that different."

"I know we're not. That's not the problem."

"Then what is?" Raquel asked.

"She's scared," Lindsey said.

"I am not!" I lied.

Lindsey nudged her forehead against my temple. "Bitch, I love you. But you're a terrible, terrible liar. You're scared shitless. You know that the chemistry between you and Duncan is way more than just physical, and after everything that happened with Hayes, you're scared. I get it. But Duncan isn't Hayes."

"I know he isn't."

"So? Woman up, bitch!” Lindsey said. "Take a chance on the man."

"I'm not moving to Alaska!" I shouted. "My life is in California! Everyone I know is there. What do you think is gonna happen? I'm gonna stay here forever because of some really amazing sex? That's stupid. It's irresponsible. I can't abandon my entire life because of some boy, no matter how good the dick may be."

"It's not about the dick, honey," Robbie said. "It's about what the dick does to your heart."

"The dick isn't doing anything to my heart."

Robbie sighed. "It's a lost cause, girls. She's so far up denial you can call her Pharaoh." All three of us stared at him until he scoffed. "Denial? The Nile? Oh come on! That was a good joke!"

Lindsey patted me on the shoulder. "We'll let it go because you're obviously not willing to listen to reason, but mark my words, Rune Rigby—you're making a mistake. Duncan Badd is more than just a big dick and nice abs. You have feelings for him and he absolutely, one hundred percent, not a shred of doubt about it has feelings for you. And yet you're committing to running away from that before you’ve even given it a chance just because of his zip code."

"Zip code?” I screeched. “He damn near lives on a different continent! I am not cut out for Alaskan winters. It's not happening, and I do not have feelings for him. It was the best sex I’ve ever had, yes, but that's all it was. And Linz, I'm crashing in your room tonight. I plan on getting wasted so I can't do anything stupid with Duncan before my flight tomorrow.”

Lindsey sighed. "Whatever you need to do, babe. You know I’ve got your back, even if you are being an idiot."

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of preparation, mimosas, brunch with the gang, more mimosas, re-touching makeup, photography behind the venue…

By the time four o'clock rolled around—with the wedding scheduled to start at four-thirty—I was well on my way to tipsy. Or…y'know, something. Tipsy…drunk, whatever. I was functional, and happy to be spending quality time with my friends—I'd missed them in the last two months of wandering north from SoCal to the Pacific Northwest. Hayes, in a wild burst of intelligence, avoided me like the plague, opting to stick to hanging out with Ricky and the other guys. Even when we did toasts with the whole group, he made sure to stay as far away from me as he could get, even going so far as to avert his gaze if I happened to look his way.

Duncan may as well have been adopted by the crew—he seemed to get along with everyone. He shot Hayes dirty looks every chance he got, but otherwise left him alone. He tried to corner me a few times, wanting to talk about last night, but I managed to escape every time.

He was getting frustrated, if not outright pissed off, but I was committed. We had fun, and now the fun was over, as planned: come to the wedding, find a guy to hook up with, make Hayes jealous, go home.

Success on all fronts.

Raquel and Hamish had opted to forgo having a best man and maid of honor, since the wedding was so small and rather informal, which meant Lindsey acted as the flower girl while Raquel's brother Ricky carried the rings and held them through the officiant's opening remarks and the couple's vows.

Sitting front row, I watched Raquel's eyes tear up and her voice choke as she promised to love, honor, and respect Hamish for the rest of their lives, even if she didn't always understand everything he said. That got some laughs. When Hamish started his vows, he did so in a Scottish accent so incomprehensible it sounded like gibberish…until people started to frown at each other and wonder out loud if he was speaking English. Raquel was laughing, her bare shoulders shaking. He only kept up the bit for a few seconds and then slid into his usual thick-but-understandable accent, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

When the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, everyone stood up and cheered as Hamish swept Raquel clean off her feet, held her in his arms as if carrying her across a threshold, and kissed her insensible. "LET'S GET PISSED!" he shouted, while Raquel gazed up at him blearily, as if wondering how they could manage to sneak away and finish what Hamish’s kiss started.

And, as the party moved indoors for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, Hamish and Raquel did indeed vanish together for a good twenty minutes, and when they reappeared, Raquel was in a short, slinky white cocktail dress and Hamish's tie was gone.

I floated from group to group and table to table for the rest of the evening, picking at small plates of food and avoiding Duncan almost as thoroughly as Hayes was avoiding me.

I really was catching up with my friends, though—two months is a long time to miss out on the comings and goings of people you’ve hung out with almost every day for four years.

By the time the sun had set and dinner was served, I was pretty well drunk.