AN: All right, I REALLY don't do sequels but I had the idea and dammit, I couldn't help it. Besides, The Sometimes Girl was short and most of my stories are usually at least ten chapters. So, enjoy and email and let me know what ya'll think. PLEASE! *puppy eyes* Thanks yall. ;) Never met them. Never will in all likelihood. Standard disclaimers apply and this is a work of FICTION. ******************** The Only Girl: Chapter One ************************ I shift from one foot to the other and resist the urge to readjust my tie. I have the tendency to fidget in formal situation and this is about as formal as it gets. My eyes, bare for all the world to see, flicker to the couple on the altar before moving back to the front pew where the woman I can’t get out of my mind sits. Tiffany is beautiful and, next to Nick she damn near glows, but Corinne eclipses them both in my opinion. She doesn’t try to mind you. She doesn’t have to try. Corrie isn’t golden and she isn’t part of the sculptured, refined artic beauty mold that the two almost newlyweds are cut from. She is earthy and real and, dammit, as sexy as she is in knee high socks and a paint splattered button down shirt, she’s mouth watering in the amber colored dress she’s wearing. It isn’t Tiffany’s white, but it doesn’t need to be. Kevin elbows me and I jump, guilty in the realization that I’ve been staring. I swing my eyes back to the altar where Nick and Tiffany are pledging their undying love to each other. But my gaze drifts back to Corrie. I study her face for some emotion as the man she had loved for five years pledges himself wholeheartedly to another. I know I would have been bawling like a baby if I was sitting in her place. If someone I trusted and thought I would have forever with tore out my heart and plunged a two timing knife into it was standing in front of me and getting married to another… Hell, maybe she would have cried, six months ago, or a year. But Nick had taken a late night flight to Seattle nearly two years ago and had come back with tears in his eyes and a smile on his freaking face. Two years was a long time, long enough to mend a broken heart? Kevin pinches me this time and I curse before I can stop myself. Nick shoots me a death glare that promises immense pain later as the audience titters in the background before slipping a gigantic ring onto Tiffany’s slender, manicured finger. I curse some more, much quieter this time as I feel myself flush. Damn Kevin. Interfering busy body. I’m not Nick, I don’t need a father figure. Never had one growing up, sure as hell don’t need one now. “Pay attention!” Kevin hisses as I glower at him darkly. “Bite me!” I mutter and kick him inconspicuously in the shins. Howie rolls his eyes and Brian sighs from his post as Best Man as the youngest and oldest groomsmen bicker on what their baby brother considered the biggest day of his life. Boo hoo. Everyone knew Tiffany would have stayed with Nick even if he hadn’t proposed. And there was never any option of her saying no. She was freaking perfect. I don’t see what the big deal is. And then, Nick and perfect Tiffany are man and wife and its all a moot point anyway. ************************************************************************ I thought that I would love Nick forever but I’m not sure how I can even be friends with a man that allows four foot swan ice sculptures at his reception. I stare at the hulking monstrosities and watch with mute fascination as they melt under the chandeliers of the banquet hall Nick had rented out. I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing here. I mean, yeah me and Nick are still friends but we’re not, we’re not like we were. We can’t be, it’d hurt me too much. So I know why he felt compelled to invite me to his wedding with perfect, pretty Tiffany, but I have no clue why I actually decided to go. Okay, I sorta understand my reasoning for going to the ceremony but why am I standing all alone at the reception again? Okay, okay, I’ve known Nick for over ten years and we dated seriously for half of that time but this is weird, even for me. And damn awkward because I use to be good friends with most of the people in this room, and no longer am. They’re here because they’re here for Nick and everyone has been infallibly polite, except for a brief tiff with Tiffany’s not so perfect mother, but not exactly warm. I get it. I’m welcome but no one’s excited to see me. Its cool. Really, it is. Doesn’t hurt a bit. Nope, not a bit. What the HELL am I doing here again? I set my empty drink down on the table and start to make my way towards the back doors where I can slip out and leave this world that I’m no longer a part of behind to their glitter and happiness. And dammit I’ve missed so much about my life with Nick. I’ve missed the other boys and seeing them in concert and even touring with them. Me and Nick may have fought like alley cats in our day but it’s a known fact that I was the most accommodating girlfriend ever brought into the whole freaking group. I could write the “how to date a pop star” book but what’s funny is that I never had to work extra hard to be with Nicky. We just were good together, the operative word being WERE, past tense. Stupid past tense. And I can see the door, almost, almost there, when wiry arms wrap themselves around me and lift me up, up into the air and away from the safety of the exit. I grunt but can’t help but smile because I know who it is. I know Alex about as well as anyway will ever know him and, even two years later, I’m still no closer to understanding him. But he’s a very good friend to me, has been better in the last two years than in the five when I was actually with Nick, and I care about him a lot. Too much sometimes. And that’s stupid. Very stupid. Bad Corinne. Corrie bad. You can’t have a crush on your old boyfriend’s almost brother and best friend. Even if said ex boyfriend is happily married. You just can’t. I mean, seriously, how awkward would THAT be? Besides, AJ can, and has, done so much better than me. He’s laid his share of not quite so perfect Tiffany look alikes- tall, leggy, blonde goddesses that worship his tattooed body. He doesn’t need me to care for him like that. Even if it was great sex. Really, REALLY great sex. But life is more than sex, really, you learn that once you pass puberty. Or some of us do… “Alexander James McLean… that had better not be your hand on my ass.” “Who’s hand would you want it to be then?” he whispers, lips brushing my ear as he sets me down, body flush against him. Jerk. “You’re such a freaking tease Alex…” I say with a snort. He laughs, a raspy rumble that I can feel. Like a lion. Hell, when his hair is bleached he even looks like a lion sometimes. That boy has BAD bed head. “Darling, if you ever want a repeat performance of the most mind blowing sex you’ve ever had just call me and they’ll be no teasing whatsoever.” “Really?” I ask, voice disinterested. “Really,” he replies as he moves closer so that I can feel the hard planes of his chest pressing, warm, against my back. Jesus, no wonder he has blonde bombshells throwing themselves at him. Breathe Corinne. Its JUST Alex. His arms snake around my waist and I hate that my breath goes out with a soft sigh at the contact. “Really, really Corrie. No teasing, just your fantasies made flesh.” I bite my lip for a minute before losing it. I break away laughing hysterically and AJ watches me with amused amber eyes. I love his eyes. Pretty, pretty AJ eyes. “Too much?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and a cocky, self assured grin. “You’re always too much AJ.” He chuckles warmly and throws a comfortable arm around my shoulders before guiding me back towards the center of the party. “Good, that’s better than being not enough.” And hell, I can’t argue with that logic. Or the butterflies in my stomach. Great.