“Are you excited about getting married?”
“Sure. Why?”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Because it doesn’t seem like you’re excited at all. You don’t have to be Sage excited, but you should show some emotion.”
“I’m focused on our missions. I want something small, she wants something big, so I told her she can do what she wants, and I’m letting her do that.”
“Don’t be that guy, Colby.”
“What guy?”
“The guy that doesn’t help out with the wedding, shows up, gets drunk an hour before, and then stumbles through the rest of the night.”
“You know I would never be that guy,” I reply, sternly.
“You’re headed down that path. You have to give at least two fucks about what’s going on. Don’t start your marriage off not caring.”
When did Bent become the philosophical one? I’m about to ask, when my phone starts to ring. I check the caller ID and nearly fall out of bed when I see who’s calling.
“Hey, I have to take this.” I snag my phone, a key card to my room, and bolt out before Bent can reply. I catch my breath and answer on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hey Colby.” Oh, thank fuck. How is it possible that just hearing her voice calms my nerves?
“Ryan,” I breathe out. “Fuck, how are you?”
“Fine.” She sounds timid and hesitant, which has my protective instincts kick in.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. I’m just nervous.”
I make my way to the stairs where I take a seat on the top step, letting my feet rest on the stairs below. “Nervous? Why?”
“Because . . . we haven’t talked in a while, and I feel like I don’t know what to say.”
I smile. Ryan not knowing what to say? She’s the most outgoing person I know. Hell, the first night I met her at the party in Woodland Park my senior year in college, she was the one who approached Stryder and me and asked if we wanted to play pool. She was the one who initiated our gathering and kept the night going until I took off.
“How about I start with this? I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m sorry I insulted you. I’m sorry I was a massive dick who forgot to be a friend who lectured you when you needed someone to lean on instead. I just want to make sure you’re happy and confident.”
“Thank you,” she says meekly, pausing for a few beats. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a proper goodbye. That was awful. I was mad, and instead of putting aside my anger, I did the worst thing possible and let you fly away without a hug. That was really shitty.”
I chuckle. “It was. Never felt more like shit than in that exact moment.”
“Really?” Her voice sounds so sad.
“Yeah. You matter to me, Ryan. Just about killed me seeing you walk away that night.” Everything felt wrong. My skin. My heart beat. My breath. Everything.
“I’m sorry.”
“Lucky for you, I forgive easily.” I lean against the railing of the stairs already feeling better.
“Lucky for me, huh? Who’s to say I’ve forgiven you?” Playfulness replaces the sadness, and fuck if it doesn’t make me happy.
“Not forgiven yet? Well shit, what do I have to do to make that happen?”
“You sound a little desperate there, Brooks.”
I can’t tamp down the smile that’s lighting up my face. I grip the back of my neck and say, “Might be.”
“All right, how about this. You tell me one thing no one knows about you and maybe after I hear your little confession, I’ll forgive you.”
“That easy?”
“Depends on the confession,” she says. “If you say something like, no one knows I eat three pieces of bacon in the morning rather than two, that’s unacceptable. I need something saucy here, something juicy, something that will make me gasp.”
“You want the dirt.”
“Exactly.”
I laugh into the phone. “Something no one knows? That’s going to be pretty hard.” Actually, it won’t be. I’m not really a fountain of information about myself to many.
“Just tell me what happens behind closed doors, Brooks.” This girl so loves to push the envelope.
“Ah, so you want really saucy, don’t you?”
“Yes. Give me the dirt.”
“And if I tell you, we’re back to normal? No more hiding from me, no more ignoring, we’re like we used to be?”
She doesn’t answer right away, but when she does, there is a little shake in her voice. “Yes, just like we used to be.”
Thank fuck. It’s all I want—my life to be back to normal. It has felt so scattered and out of place lately I haven’t been able to fully concentrate on anything. In the air, where I’ve struggled the most—I’ve felt Bent breathing down my neck, ready to pop off and tell me to get my head out of my ass.
He doesn’t need to worry, because hearing Ryan’s playful voice is instilling a sense of peace in me.
“All right, something dirty, something no one knows . . .” A little fact pops in my head and I start chuckling.
“Oh, this sounds like it’s going to be good. Come on, lay it on me.”
“Depends. Is this in the vault?”
“What does the vault entail?” She laughs.
“It means never uttering this to another human being. It’s in the vault forever, because with the amount of time we hang out with all the guys, I’m going to need this to stay between us. They will never let me live it down.”
“Ugh, that’s what I was afraid of.” She takes a moment to think about it, but I can hear her shifting in her excitement. “Okay, fine, vault. Hit me with it. I’m all ears.”
“Okay,” I clear my throat. “When I was a freshman in high school—”
She starts giggling. “Oh I can feel it already. Fourteen-year-old Colby with puberty probably kicking him in the ass. I won’t even try not to smile right now.”
“Thanks for making this easy.”
“Anytime.”
I chuckle and drag my hand down my face. “Back then I was obsessed with planes and flying, but I was also obsessed with calculating the size of my penis. Weekly.”
“What?” She bursts out in laughter. I join her, a chuckle rumbling from my chest.
“Yeah, I, uh, had a penis notebook and each week I would get myself hard and then measure it. Wanted to see if I was growing.”
“No, you didn’t.” She’s still laughing, good and hearty. In my head, I see her amusement shaking her body, and even though it’s at my expense, I’m fucking happy about it. “So you would measure your penis every week?”
“Yup, and when it grew, fuck, I was a happy camper.”
“Do you still have the penis measuring book? What did you use to get hard? Did you stare at nude pics? Watch anything? I need more details.”
“You said nothing about details. I told you my secret, that’s it. We’re not going to dissect it.”
“Then what if I don’t forgive you?” I would be scared if I couldn’t hear humor in her tone.
“Well, from the tone of your voice I know you’ve already forgiven me. Nice try.” I look at my watch. Shit, it’s getting late. “I should get going. Bent is in my room probably wondering where the hell I am, and we have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Not a problem.”
“Hey, thanks for calling me, Ryan. It means a lot to me.” It means so much more than she’ll ever know.
“Sorry it took me so long. Don’t hold it against me. I’m emotionally unstable.” She chuckles, but I sense truth in her comment, especially if I think back to what she said before I left. She’s not the only one with a rough childhood. It’s a topic I want to talk to her about but not yet, not until I feel confident our friendship is back on track.
“Couldn’t ever hold anything against you. Just don’t fucking do it again. I told you the penis story.”
She chuckles. “How long are you going to hold the penis story over my head?”
&nbs
p; “Forever. Don’t forget, the vault.”
“Your penis measuring is safe with me. Don’t worry.”
I let out a sigh and stand from the stairs, making my way back to my room. “All right. So if I text you tomorrow, you’re going to answer?”
“Yes, Colby, I’ll answer.”
I smile to myself. “Good. I’ll talk to you later, Ryan.”
“Bye.”
We hang up and I enter my room where Bent is still sitting on the bed, eating pizza. As I approach, he lifts a brow at me. “Was that Sage?”
For a brief second, I consider lying so I don’t have to get into it with him. “No, it was Ryan.”
“Ryan?” The judgmental look in his face tells me he doesn’t approve.
“Yeah, Ryan.” I leave it at that and sit back on the bed, snagging a piece of pizza.
“What did you talk about?”
“Let’s not do this, okay?” I say, mouth full of pizza. “I’m not in the mood for your third-degree questioning.”
He wipes his mouth with a napkin and keeps silent. Momentarily. “You two are close, huh?”
“Christ,” I mumble. “Yes, we’re friends.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes, that’s fucking it,” I snap. “Do I need to remind you who I’m engaged to?”
“No, I thought I’d have to remind you.”
I turn toward him, anger starting to thrum through my veins. “What the hell are you saying?”
“Just making sure. It almost seems like you have a better relationship with Ryan.”
“We’ve known each other longer.”
“Okay.” He stops there and turns back to the TV.
What the fuck was that all about?
A better relationship with Ryan? We have a different relationship. Just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean anything. I treat her like the other guys . . . but maybe with a little more thought because I promised to be her rock.
There is nothing wrong with that.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
RYAN
Colby: Heard you’re going cake tasting with Sage.
Ryan: Yup, taking one for the team.
Colby: A real sacrifice, how can I ever repay you?
Ryan: I take cash.
Colby: What about favors? I know how to change light bulbs.
Ryan: Is that what they taught you at flight school?
Colby: And how to hammer a nail.
Ryan: So glad my tax dollars are being used wisely.
Colby: Can I make it known that I prefer almond flavors?
Ryan: Sure you can make it known, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to pick that. I’m thinking orange creamsicle.
Colby: I hate orange creamsicle.
Ryan: So DEFINITELY orange creamsicle then. *Wipes forehead* That was easy.
Colby: You know, this is my wedding, right?
Ryan: Well aware, but I’m putting in the time with the planning, so some things are bound to go my way. Like the cake, the flowers, what you wear *coughs* Got you the American flag tux.
Colby: I’ll be wearing my mess dress. Sorry to disappoint.
Ryan: Huh, might want to talk to Sage about that, as she might have a different idea.
Colby: Really?
Ryan: Yeah, pretty sure she said something about you wearing a tan suit.
Colby: Are you fucking with me?
Ryan: Swear on the penis story I’m not.
Colby: Fuck.
Ryan: Sooo . . . this is awkward.
Colby: Don’t worry about it. Go eat cake.
Ryan: Well, now. I feel like I can’t choose orange creamsicle.
Colby: You can’t. Almond, think almond.
* * *
“Oh this is so freaking good,” Sage moans over her fork, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. Man, does she love cake.
And so does Rowdy.
No idea he’d be here. It’s nice though, and it doesn’t make things as awkward for me.
Rowdy coughs and takes a sip of his water, his eyes darting away from Sage.
“You okay there, big guy?”
“Yup.” He pats his chest and takes another sip of water. “Cake went down the wrong tube.”
I never knew cake testing was such a process. I thought I’d show up, taste some flavors, and be done with it, but this is Sage, so I should have known better. She’s very organized and particular, much like Colby. There is a certain protocol to cake tasting according to Sage.
You smell, you assess presentation, you taste, and then you rate it on a scale from one to five only to then cleanse your palate before the next one, while discussing the subtle hints in flavoring and texture.
And who knew there were so many options?
And why are we cake testing in Las Vegas when the wedding is in Colorado? This bakery has a location in Denver as well, so it was kismet, as Sage pointed out.
“This chocolate mint cake is to die for. Don’t you think so?” Sage asks, licking her fork.
Rowdy grumbles something under his breath as I finger the icing and plop it in my mouth. “It really is good. Makes my little teenage heart happy. What do you think, Rowdy?”
“Tastes like an Andes Mint.”
“Which is why it’s so amazing.” Sage pokes him in his side. “Like those cookies I made you the other night. Remember, the ones you ate ten of?” Rowdy scoffs. “Don’t even deny it.” Sage lights up, and I have an out-of-body experience as I lean back in my seat and watch the two of them interact.
“I had five.”
“You did not.” Her eyes bulge open. “You had ten. Easily. Don’t even try to deny it, because Rocky was not pleased when he got home and half of them were gone.”
Shrugging, Rowdy scoops some frosting with his finger and pops it in his mouth. “Not my fault he got home late.”
Sage starts chuckling. “And when he found out we went to get pizza without him . . . the look of rage on his face.”
“Because it was his favorite pizza place he talked about going to the night before,” Rowdy adds. “That was shitty, but funny.”
“No, what was mean was bringing home one single piece of pepperoni on a napkin for him. I can’t believe you convinced me do that.”
“It’s good to get out of your comfort zone, Sage,” he answers sounding exasperated, almost as if he’s told her that many times.
“Is that why you made me go gambling the other night?”
Gambling? I blink a few times. Sage, gambling? I didn’t think I’d ever picture Sage gambling. She doesn’t seem the sort to go out and spend money meaninglessly. And being introverted, I would think she’s more comfortable having a quiet night at home with Colby watching movies. Neither Sage nor Colby are the sort to step outside of their homebody comfort zones.
And here’s a question, when did this little friendship start between Sage and Rowdy?
It reminds me of my friendship with Colby—the give and take, the organized versus the scattered, the rigid and the relaxed.
“Yeah, you need to loosen up.” He taps her notebook. “Life isn’t always about giving things scores and making sure every last detail is covered. Sometimes you have to feel and act in the moment. Like right now, what piece of cake is calling to you?”
Okay, who knew Rowdy was so philosophical?
Sage reaches for her notebook, but Rowdy slips it into his hands and onto the floor. “No. Pick based on your first instinct, not your overanalyzed notes.”
“But I don’t remember the flavors.”
Cutting in, I say, “Chocolate with fudge filling and cut-up strawberries. Chocolate-chip cookie dough—my favorite—strawberry with chocolate buttercream, lemon and blueberry, hazelnut almond, red velvet, plain vanilla, Italian cream and . . . God, what am I missing?”
“Andes mint,” Rowdy adds.
“Yes, Andes mint. Oh, and confetti cake.”
“The last two are so not wedding cake flavors.” Sage turns up her nose.
“Says who?” R
owdy asks. “You said it yourself, the Andes mint was amazing, so why not go with that?”
“Because it’s for a child’s party.”
Rowdy leans back in his chair, and rolls his handsome eyes. “Humor me, Sage, and live a little. Do something out of the ordinary. Don’t play it safe.”
“I agree,” I add. “Do something fun. Be those people. If Rowdy and I were getting married, I bet we would get confetti cake with the mint frosting in the middle.”
With a disgusted look on his face, Rowdy turns to me and shakes his head. “You watch your mouth. If we were to get married, we would obviously go with the lemon blueberry and be classy fucks.”
I nod. “You’re right. You’re so right. We would jump out of our box and do the opposite. Stick our pinkies in the air and eat the hell out of that lemon blueberry.” We high-five and turn back to Sage who has a horrified look on her face. Ehh, that can’t be good. “What’s wrong?”
Her breathing picks up, her eyes bouncing back and forth as if she’s trying to comprehend something traumatic. “Oh my God, are Colby and I boring?”
Crap.
“No.”
“Yes,” Rowdy says at the same time.
“Rowdy.” I whack him in the arm. “What the hell are you doing? They’re not boring.”
“Yes, they are.” He doesn’t even seem apologetic. “But that’s them. It’s fine.”
Through clenched teeth, I direct my attention at Rowdy only. “What the hell are you doing?”
Sage stands from the table and grabs her notebook, clutching it to her chest. “I . . . I have to go.”
“No, he was just being an ass. Come sit down.”
But she doesn’t listen. Instead, she spins on her heel, tears in her eyes, and bolts out of the store.
I turn toward Rowdy and whack him in the shoulder. “What the hell, Rowdy?”
He picks up another piece of cake and pops it in his mouth. “Listen, someone had to say it.”
“What are you talking about?”
He gives me a pointed look and from that one glance, my heart sinks to my stomach. “It’s obvious, Ryan.”
“Wh-what’s obvious?”
“That you have feelings for Colby.”
The Duets Page 79
