Page 25 of Doing It for Love

The Hurdles of Getting Married

7.Find a song for you and Landon (because you just realized you don’t have one.)

8.Write your vows.

I tap on my keyboard and click out of my Hurdle List. Dress browsing was a bust. I don’t know what colors I want, so it’s pointless to look at bridesmaids’ dresses right now. Every gown I want is a billion dollars, and I ended up sipping on my cherry wine cooler and forcing back snotty tears. Alec is so bored he’s lying on his back, tossing a rubber ball into the air and singing, “If I were a rich man” under his breath. After he’s done I’ll start making requests. Alec is Broadway material. While Landon works backstage, he takes front and center.

Theresa’s on her fourth cooler, and her eyes are getting that droopy look. I shake my head and nudge her back into the couch cushions. Pass out, my friend.

Alec hits the last note, and I close my laptop and slump on the floor next to him. We take turns bouncing the ball off the wall to each other.

“I get a kick out of you.”

He grins, showing off his one dimple. “You always want that one.”

I toss the ball, nearly hitting the clock that says it’s 11:28. “I miss him.”

Alec elbows my arm after catching my toss. Then he starts singing, nearly putting Frank Sinatra to shame. I stop tossing the ball so I can hear the song without thethunkevery two seconds. Three years ago, our theater class put on a production ofAnything Goes,and as a requirement every guy had to sing “I Get a Kick Out of You,” no matter what part they wanted. Landon didn’t want a part, he wanted assistant director, but he auditioned anyway.

He was so nervous. He kept opening his mouth, making some sort of croaking noise, then slamming his lips back together. It was pin-droppingly quiet in the room, and all I wanted was to jump up and save him.

So I did. I stood on my chair in the back of the room and belted out the first line of the song. I wasn’t good. I was completely off key, tried to do a manly voice, and effed up the lyrics. But a smile broke out on his delicious face. He sang with me, then louder than me, then on his own while the class clapped and whooped. He was awful. He missed lines and notes and made up words, but he owned it.

And I fell in love all over again.

“It’s not going to be like this forever, you know,” Alec says, breaking into my thoughts. I don’t even know if he finished the song. Theresa shifts on the couch but doesn’t wake up.

“This?”

“Late nights, long hours, you being home alone…”

I turn my head to look at him. “Yes it will. After this movie’s a success, he’ll get another grant, or even better, he’ll make it into the Indie Film Hall of Fame. He’s going places…bigplaces. And it’ll be even longer hours, later nights.” I pause, and Alec turns to me. His brows pull in, and I like that he’s concerned. Not only is he Landon’s best friend, but he’s mine too. I give him a smile. “And I’m one-hundred-percent okay with it. It’s his dream.”

The corner of his lip twitches upward. “Lucky bastard. He better keep ahold of you.” Alec’s eyes drift to Theresa on the couch. After a few beats he starts tossing the ball again. “You know, you should visit him on set.”

“I don’t want to get in the way.” I never go to Landon’s shoots. He’s pretty passionate when he’s just editing at home. Whenever I try to talk to him, he half-listens or gets kinda cranky. I figure it’s best for me to support from a distance.

“I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Did he say something to you?”

“Maybe.” He cracks a smile and tosses the ball again. “It’s funny, ’cause when he made that film in high school there was this girl who followed him around on every shoot. She would try to give advice to the actors and tell Landon which camera angle would be best or whatever. We thought she was trying to sneak a part until she kissed him.”

“Yeah, he told me about her.”

“I think as long as you’re not like that, you’re good.” Alec adjusts on the floor, resting his head on his palm. “I’m positive he wants you to visit. He’s pretty proud of this one, and he didn’t have a big support system before you.”

“What about you?” I challenge.

“I don’t count. I’m not family.”

“Neither am I.”

“But you will be.”

My heart thumps extra hard, foreign butterflies taking off in the pit of my stomach. I eye the ring on my finger, finding an entirely new meaning in it.

“His parents never supported him?” I whisper.

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