“She’s afraid I’m going to push her to go to frat parties and socially network.”
“You will.”
“Of course, I will.”
“You know,” Crush began, seeing his opportunity, “if you want to try this moving out thing without worrying about making a big decision too soon, you can, ya know ... hang out at my house for a while.”
Cella smirked. “Oh, really?”
“Just something to think about. No pressure. No ties that bind. Just you, hanging out at my house, coming and going as you like.”
“Like a feral cat that lives under your deck?”
“I wouldn’t have used that particular analogy, but okay.”
“What about Lola?”
“She tolerates you well enough. And I’m still—”
“Looking for her forever home. Right. Sure.”
“It’s just a casual offer that shouldn’t make you panic in the least.”
“Uh-huh. So we’d be pretend living together?”
“Exactly. We can even start tonight since Meghan is flying to Israel for the second wedding. So you can see if staying at my place works for you in a completely non-pushy way.”
“Cats hate pushy.”
“Right.”
Cella shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I could give it a try.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
They sat silently for several long minutes until Crush said, “Cella?”
“Uh-huh?”
“I guess I should tell you ... I’m in love with you.”
“Pretend in love with me?”
“No, smart-ass. Really, seriously, madly in love with you. Borderline desperate but with enough personal fortitude to keep it under control.”
“Oh. Okay.” They fell silent again, Crush glad he’d gotten that off his chest. But it was when he looked over his shoulder to see if he could figure out which doorway led to the men’s bathroom that he felt Cella Malone suddenly rub her head over his arm and across the left side of his face and neck.
By the time he’d turned back around, she was sitting in her chair, staring straight ahead, composed and completely unruffled.
“Did you just rub up against me?”
She blinked, looking at him as if he’d suddenly appeared. “Huh?”
“I said did you just mark me?”
She pursed her lips, shrugged her shoulders, and finally started blaming everyone else in the room.
“Look, if I’m going to stay at your house for the next couple of ... whatever, I just thought it was prudent to make sure I warned off all these bitches who’ve been circling you since the reception started.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s temporary.”
“Sure.”
“Just making sure things are clear.”
“Of course, you are, brave Malone of the traveling Malones.”
“All right fine!” she snapped. “I’m in love with you. There. I said it. Now get over yourself.”
“You know, I think those are the words written on the Taj Mahaclass="underline" ‘I said it. Now get over yourself.’ Some of the greatest love stories have started with those words.”
Cella laughed so hard that Crush finally lifted her up and placed her in his lap, his arms loose around her waist.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I panicked. Besides, are you supposed tell a guy you love him when you’re at your daughter’s father’s wedding? And you’re not saying it to your daughter’s father?”
“I think it would only be wrong if he wasn’t actually marrying someone else. So I think morally, you’re in the clear.”
“You do understand that no matter where I go, the Malones will always be part of it?”
“Like a wolf pack?”
She shuddered. “If you need some words to describe it, at least use, like, a lion pride or something.”
“That’s fine and, yes, I know that. Just as you know every once in a while, you’ll have to beat up my brothers when they break into the house.”
“Since I enjoy doing that, I don’t think that’s a problem.”
Crush pressed his forehead against Cella’s. “Then I figure the rest we’ll work out as we go along.”
“Then I’m in,” she promised, her eyes closing, her body relaxing into his. “And I really do love you, Crush. I really do.”
“And can I just say, thank God,” Crush murmured into Cella’s ear. “Thank God, I can’t handle Jell-O shots.”
And her explosive laughter made everything for Lou Crushek absolutely perfect.