The implication being that he hadn’t missed her omission either. He invariably considered an apology his due, but it absolutely, unequivocally, would not be forthcoming. Because if Jase hadn’t been practically tripping over himself trying to avoid physical contact during this stupid, mandatory wedding-party dance, she wouldn’t have nailed him. And while her misstep had, in fact, been accidental, after Jase’s little stunt with the trash bag that morning, she didn’t feel bad about it in the least.
The guy ought to learn to lead.
Or, better yet, take off. Get out of her hair, get out of her life—just get lost.
“Christ, lady!” Jase jerked back, his face blanching as he sucked a breath through his nose.
Oops. Now she’d nailed both feet.
She really wasn’t a very good dancer—at least, not when it required coordinating shared floor space with another person.
“Oh, man up and stop being such a crybaby.”
Jase seemed on the verge of apoplexy, so she flashed her widest smile and leaned in close—reluctantly conceding that it was nice to go onto her toes rather than lean down to whisper in a man’s ear—to murmur softly, “Or do I need to get you a tissue, princess?”
He tensed, the air between them beginning to crackle.
The hand that had been barely hovering above her waist through the first half of the song firmed against the small of her back as he jerked her into hard contact with the solid planes of his body, the unexpected impact pushing her breath out in a whoosh. She barely had time to tell herself to breathe when the world spun. Suddenly, Jase had tipped her back into a dip so deep that she had no choice but to cling tightly to his shoulders and meet his unyielding stare.
His breath rushed over her jaw and neck, leaving a wash of unwelcome chills in its wake.
“Emily, you’re going to apologize for stepping on not one of my feet, but both. Nicely.”
Like he’d apologized for the vomit?
“You’re delusional.”
“Oh, you’ll apologize, all right, and you’d better make me believe it. Because if you don’t, in about five seconds, I’m going to dump your sweet ass on this floor.”
The breath froze in her lungs. “You wouldn’t.”
“Test me.”
Her fists tightened in the fabric of his jacket as her mind latched on to one thought: in the history of truly horrible bridesmaid gifts, Jase Foster was hands-down the worst.
Because, yeah, that’s how Lena had sold him at her New Year’s Eve engagement party eight months before. She’d been going on about how he was one of Dean’s best friends and how much she loved him and how great he and Emily would be together. And since Emily’s last interlude had been a while ago, the idea of a little masculine attention held a certain appeal. For about fifteen seconds, she’d entertained the idea of maybe. Maybe just for a few dates.
But then Lena had said it. “Dean was agonizing over who to pick as best man—you know how close he is to all the guys—but then I thought about the pictures, and this guy is tall, Emily. Like, way taller than you, even.”
And right there, her spidey-senses started to tingle. Because coming in at five foot eleven and a half, she knew the list of guys who were taller than her by enough to earn a “way” qualifier was quite short. Sadly, Jase was among them.
Sure enough, when Lena had grabbed her arm and pointed to the six-foot-five stretch of broad-shouldered, lean, all taper-cut and tuxedo-fine male striding through a sea of formal wear… Ugh. Of course, it was him.
“His name’s Jase Foster. And seriously, all tuxed up tonight”—Lena’s voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper—“tell me he doesn’t look gift wrapped!”
He might have, except that the bow tie dangling open at his neck, coupled with the roughed-up mess of dark-brown hair topping his ruggedly handsome face, suggested that at some point during the elegant engagement party the man had already been unwrapped and played with…extensively.
Typical.
“Any chance he comes with a gift receipt?” Emily had asked, keeping her voice light and teasing for her friend’s sake.
And that’s when he’d spotted her. She could tell by the way his steady progress through the crowd came to an abrupt halt and his mouth formed a four-letter word familiar enough to her own tongue that she recognized it on sight.
Real classy, Jase.
What a dickhead.
But then Jase had rubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw, wiping it clean of the flash of hostility he’d let slip. They were at an engagement party for friends close enough to slot them as the honor attendants in their wedding—and there was no place for a decade-old grudge in this celebration. Besides, she could rest assured that the depth of her loathing for Jase Foster was as clear to him as his was to her. And if not, she had the next eight months to reinforce it.
Now, staring up into the hard lines of Jase’s face as he held her suspended precariously over certain humiliation, she couldn’t believe she’d once thought this man could be her whole world. She’d thought he was her friend. She’d thought…
Well, lesson learned. Through bitter experience, she’d come to realize that Jase could only be counted on to let her down at the moment she needed him most.
Which meant she really needed to apologize—and fast.
Chapter 3
“Sorry.”
One word. Grudgingly issued. But still, Jase was taking it for the victory it was. Not that he’d have actually followed through on his threat. Not a chance. And that she believed he would… Well, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
“Very big of you, Em,” he offered, prepared to pull her back up when her soft eyes narrowed on him.
“And typically small of you.”
He sighed, looking down at the woman still caught in his arms, wondering when he’d finally be able to put her behind him.
Those damn legs of hers were the problem. Miles long and distracting as hell, they’d been strutting through Jase’s life since he was sixteen, walking over whatever bit of peace he’d found and then strutting right back out, leaving nothing but a path of destruction in their wake.
Still, he was the lucky one. Thirty seconds had decided it. Thirty seconds difference, and maybe he’d be the one whose life never recovered.
His molars ground down, because that wasn’t something he ought to be thinking about at Dean’s wedding, but every time he saw Emily working that honey-and-sunshine routine of hers, he wanted to puke. Why did she even bother? It had to be exhausting to pretend you were someone you weren’t 24-7. But maybe she liked the collection of friends that hiding the truth had garnered her.
Or maybe she actually believed her own bullshit, which was even worse, because how the hell was the population at large supposed to defend itself against that?
Jase pulled Emily up to standing, restoring the distance between them that he never should have breached.
“Thank you,” she said, and then winced as if annoyed to have given him even that much.
“You bet,” he answered, keeping the civil smile.
The song was almost over, and this dance was the last of the forced interaction with her—at least, until the next time their circles of friends happened to overlap in holy matrimony, and genetics once again threw them together as the tallest pairing in the wedding party. Maybe they’d luck out and it wouldn’t happen for another year or so…or, better yet, ever again.
The song ended, and sure enough, Emily wasn’t about to linger. No niceties being offered tonight. Without even looking back at him, she turned out of his hold. Fine by him.
Or it would have been, except that in her typical obliviousness to anyone beyond herself, Emily seemed unaware of how her body was lining up with his. Before he could pull out of the way, the bare skin of her arm met the back of his hand in a mesh of contact that could only b
e classified as a caress. Emily’s sharp intake of breath had Jase’s attention snapping to the widening of her eyes, then back to where his knuckles skated down the remaining length of her arm.
A second passed, and neither of them moved, both seemingly caught in the aftermath of a train wreck that never should have happened, in that jolt of electricity at first contact and the lingering low charge that seemed to sizzle through the duration.
Jesus, some things never changed.
* * *
“You lying little hooker!” Lena gasped, her eyes bright with excitement. “You told me there was nothing between you and Jase, but then right there in the middle of everyone—”
Emily waved her off, walking past the new Mrs. Skolnic to the east bar, where the hunky bartender was as generous with his dimpled smile as he was with his pours. “That dip was just Jase being showy. Hey, Jimmy, could I get another glass of the pinot, please?”
Fresh drink in hand, Emily turned back to Lena, who was still staring at her with an all-too-smug look on her delighted face.
“I’m not talking about the dip, which was spectacular, by the way. I’m talking about after. When you guys had that”—Lena bit her lip and stepped closer, lowering her voice—“moment. It was like fifty shades of hot.”
Taking a cool sip of the crisp white, and then a slightly heartier swallow, Emily shook her head. “That was no Jamie Dornan moment, please.”
Lena’s neatly sculpted brow pushed up, and then, pulling Emily by one hand, she led her back to the table where six of the bridesmaids were sitting, all of them with their eyes locked on her.
Trying not to slosh the wine, Emily went for another sip, because the second she sat down—
“Oh my God! You and Jase—”
“That touch. Hawt—”
“And the linger? Like a slow burn, only—”
“And when she was looking back all slow and stunned—”
Okay, so maybe she could have waited for the wine until she sat down, because apparently no response was required here. The girls were completely absorbed in this fantasy they’d concocted about some fictional moment that didn’t exist.
“And he had that broody, WTF look—”
“Like he was struck by her—”
“I’m super sorry I half hit on him last night—”
“She is. Rachel had no idea you guys were—”
“But he totally wasn’t interested, so don’t worry about—”
“And if you get with Jase, you’ve gotta hook me up with Max—”
“Oh my God, you guys, let’s agree: Emily gets the bouquet—”
The bouquet? Oh, no way. If that thing came hurtling in her direction, Emily was spiking it straight into the ground.
“Enough!” she pleaded, looking from one expectant face to the next. “It was not a moment. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing between Jase and me.”
Lena crossed her arms on the tabletop, leaning forward and staring Emily down like a vendor trying to up their price. “So when did you guys meet? Exactly.”
As a rule, Emily wasn’t a huge fan of talking about that part of her life—or her past in general, really. She’d much rather listen and focus on the now. But with all eyes on her, she could feel the heat creeping up her neck. These girls were relentless. There was no way she was getting out of there without spilling something.
“High school. We were friends for a while, but it didn’t stick.”
Rachel leaned in then, same posture as Lena. “Friends, like friends who have something hot and unexplored between them?”
More heat crept up Emily’s neck. Because for a few months, there had been something between them. Something that made her heart beat twice as fast when their eyes met in the hall, holding just that extra second. Something that left her a little breathless when he smiled at her. Something that felt like it was growing, getting bigger every time they talked. But whatever it was, one day it was there, keeping her up nights with her belly twisting and churning, wondering if he’d finally ask her—and the next day it was just gone. Jase was as friendly as ever, but apparently the guy’s attention span toward females was the same then as it was now—not exactly the stuff of legend.
She’d been confused at first, but then she’d accepted it and moved on.
“Friends, like I dated his best friend for about a year.”
This time, Marlene was closing the circle around her, her eyes gleaming. “So you were his best friend’s girlfriend, but you’re not anymore. Maybe he’s thinking about a second chance?”
“No.” In this, she was confident. Jase would never see her as anything but Eddie’s girlfriend. The traitor who ruined Eddie’s life. The scapegoat Jase blamed for everything, because if he didn’t, he’d be forced to take some of the responsibility himself.
But she couldn’t say any of that, so instead, she kept it simple. “Honestly, Jase and I don’t get along very well. You’ll just have to believe me. Neither of us would ever consider something more.”
One by one, the girls sat back, and Emily relaxed.
“Sure, I believe you.” Marlene nodded, casually smoothing a few strands of her jet hair back into place. “But just out of curiosity, why hasn’t Jase taken his eyes off you the entire time we’ve been sitting here?”
* * *
It was after midnight when the party finally shut down. Dean and Lena had said their good-byes a half hour before, and the band had already cleared out. The Skolnics had taken the gifts, and Emily was doing one final sweep to make sure nothing had been left behind when she came to the black tuxedo jacket hanging from a chair at the wedding party’s table.
Someone would definitely be missing this.
Draping it over one arm, she caught the barest scent of cologne—good cologne—and raised the jacket to her nose. It was familiar, but she couldn’t remember which one of the guys—
“Not going to lie, Em.” The gruff voice from the doorway brought her head up in a rush. “The jacket huffing is kind of creepy.”
Jase, he of the persistent, pointless glare. Of course.
Bow tie hanging loose from his open collar, sleeves cuffed to just below his elbows, he started across the ballroom with an easy, long-legged gait. “But I’m betting they’ve got some twelve-step program to help with it.”
Not bothering with a response, she pinched the jacket between finger and thumb and held it out for him as they met in what had been the middle of the dance floor. “You leaving a mess for someone else to clean up. Why am I not surprised?”
Taking the jacket, he paused. “Sure you’re okay? One more whiff for the road? Something to hold on to?”
“Pass,” she answered, her heels clicking against the floor as she walked out. “I can’t forget about you fast enough.”
“Hey, Emily?”
She stopped and let out a weary sigh, because really, with this wedding over, all she wanted was to put Jase Foster behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to where he was frowning after her, a disconcerted look in his eyes. “What?”
“You’re not friends with Sally Willson, are you?”
Her brow furrowed as something heavy settled in the pit of her stomach. “Sally was my roommate in college. We’re like sisters.”
She didn’t want to ask; she didn’t want to know. But by the way Jase was cursing into the palm of his hand and staring at her with those accusing eyes, she was fairly certain she already did.
Sally had been dating her boyfriend, Romeo Santos, for two years, and just this weekend, he’d taken her up to some cabin in Wisconsin.
“Oh no.”
Jase shook his head and walked past her. “See you soon, Em.”
Acknowledgments
To my amazing agent, Nicole Resciniti, for your guidance and support through everything. With you, I’m in such good hands. I could make a joke
there, but I won’t. I love you. <3
To Mary Altman and Laura Costello, my amazing editors who made this book so much better than it would have been without their patience and insights. You ladies rock, and I appreciate you so much! Also to Diane Dannenfeldt and Heather Hall for helping my books shine!
To the team at Sourcebooks—you’ve consistently blown me away by being outstanding! Thank you for all you do!
To Jessa Russo, for always being the Chunk to my Sloth. I can’t wait to see you again outside the Internet in 3-D! I love you. Without you, I’m not sure where I’d be in this writing business. I’d quote a bunch of song lyrics here, but that would cost too much in permissions and royalties. I’ll call you and sing them to you instead because I know how much you love that!
To Cait Greer, who is a way better person than I’ll ever be, but still talks to me every day. I love you! *snugs*
To Amber Tuscan-Clites and Heather Griffin, for the laughs and the hugs and the rants and e-shanking of our enemies. I love you both so much! Someday we’ll get to PEI for our Anne of Green Gables retreat, but I’ll settle for anywhere as long as we get to meet in person!
To Brandi Lynch, for always making time for me and for having the cutest accent ever. You’re amazing and need to come see me in Canada!
To Roselle Kaes, who is so talented in so many ways. I marvel at you every day! You’re one of my favorite people ever. Thank you for being a bright part of my life.
To Gracie West, for reading this and giving delightful feedback. My life is richer for having met you. <3
To JC Nelson, for the critique and the laughs. You’re one delightful motherfucker—and that’s the highest of compliments!
To Genevieve Kennedy, Leanna Klyne, and Brett Willisko, my best friends since we were too young to know better—I love you so much.
To Lydia Aswolf, for the emails that are so supportive and pick me up more than I can say, thank you! <3 Please make more words.
To Emmie Mears, for being my Gummy Bear. <3 You’re outstanding.
To my family—thanks for understanding when I get salty about deadlines and stressed about life and health and worries. You’re the best, and I love you all more—even though it’s not a competition.
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