My eyebrows perked up and I addressed the question, “Maybe. He sent me a text message asking me to be his Best Man but he needs to plan the wedding first. I’m really considering it too, since I only have a few months off before training for the next NFL season begins.”
Lyla smiled and patted my hand, “Do it, come on! You know you’ll have fun. Besides, Emilia might be there too.”
I chuckled at that remark. These people really wouldn’t let go of the fact that I had sex with Emilia five years ago. I mean, come on! I’ve had so many women since then.
“I bet she’s already forgotten all about me,” I told them. “It’s been so long.”
Lyla wagged her finger, “A girl never forgets a high school or college crush. You can trust me on that one. You were her dream come true. How could she ever forget someone like that?”
Preston laughed and hugged his wife, “You should listen to her. She’s an expert on women – she is one, after all!”
“You two bastards,” I joked as I chugged down on my beer. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. When is the engagement party? I have to double-check the schedule Jackson sent me.”
Preston flipped out his phone and checked his calendar, “It’s… next Friday. You’re sure you’re coming, right, because I’m going. Daxter and Marcus are coming too. Trevor will be there too – I think they’re the ones sponsoring the party, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, since everyone’s coming I guess it’ll be less awkward. Sure, I’m definitely coming. I’m not so sure yet about being his Best Man, though. I need to think about that. I don’t know how free I’ll be for all the practice and stuff.”
“Okay,” Preston told me with a smile of approval. “Hey, Marcus is swinging by tonight. You care for a game of poker or something?”
I had nothing else to do anyway so I gave a shrug and nod, “Sure. Give me a minute, though, I’ll go ahead and call Jackson and let him know I’m coming to the engagement party.”
They nodded and turned to talk to each other as I got up and headed to the back of the bar, where it was quieter and fewer people bustling about. As soon as I was in a nice, comfortable spot near the parking lot, I took my phone and dialed for Jackson’s number.
“Hey,” I greeted as soon as he picked up.
“Hello? Who’s this?” I heard a female answer. It must have been his girlfriend, Amy.
I cleared my throat and clarified, “Oh, hi Amy. It’s Damon. Sorry, it sounds like you guys are sleeping. I didn’t mean to wake you two up. Could you please let Jackson know I’m going to attend your engagement party?”
She quickly got ecstatic, “Really? Oh, thank you, Damon! It means the world to him. Are you signing on as his Best Man too?”
“Not yet,” I replied with a chuckle. “I need to check with my team manager and my agents to check my schedule first. If I’m free – if being the key-word here – then sure, I’ll be the Best Man for your wedding.”
“Yey!” she screamed back. “Okay, I’ll go tell him. He’s down in the basement fixing up our heater. Keep us updated, okay?”
“Sure thing,” I told her and ended the call.
An engagement party, huh? This will be interesting. I haven’t seen Jackson and Amy in a few months now, ever since the last NFL season began.
For tonight, however, I just wanted to hang back in Mercury Wild, get drunk and have fun with my friends.
2
Emilia
“Honey, you look gorgeous,” Amy told me but all I saw in the mirror was a mess.
I looked one more time. They straightened my hair, which made it seem longer now that it reached my hips, and made me wear this really body-fitting black mini-dress. It was a little kinky, to be honest, with how short the skirt was and how the backless design accentuated the arch of my spine and the curves of my sides. It didn’t help either that the dress was so tight. I could literally feel it squishing my tit.
“I’m not sure,” I grumbled at her. “I mean, look at you. You’re wearing a really nice, white mermaid dress.”
“Of course I am,” she answered with a sarcastic tone. “I’m the fiancée getting married in a month. This is my engagement so I’m the one going to wear the mermaid dress.”
We both laughed and she helped me lace my dress and put on my high heels.
“It’s nice of you to come back home,” Amy told me as we were lacing up my heels. “How was Paris?”
I smiled, “It was lovely, darling, but I’d rather be home. Four years in France was amazing but after a while, I just want to talk to people in plain old English and engorge myself in a big, greasy cheeseburger.”