Things were good last month.
Sex always fucks shit up.
And this was just from a kiss.
I need to make sure it doesn’t get worse. I need to draw that line between real and pretend.
To make sure none of it goes below the waist.
Hell, below the neck.
She breaks the silence. “I… I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry.”
Is she apologizing to me or to this guy who’s her first choice?
I guess it doesn’t matter.
She wants him.
I’m not gonna be the other man.
And I’m not gonna lose her.
“Me too.” The words feel like a lie.
“Anything I should know about this crowd?”
“I’m not sure I know shit about this crowd.”
“Oh?” She lowers the mirror on the visor. Checks her lipstick—still perfect. “You don’t know her friends?”
“The old ones, yeah. But I can’t imagine anyone who liked me is showing up.”
She presses the visor to the roof. Presses her back against the fabric of her seat. “Yeah. You’re the innocent one.”
“I’m not innocent.”
“But you didn’t fuck someone who wears boat shoes.”
“I’d never do that. I’d never be the other man.”
“I know.” Her lip corners turn down.
Is that regret or something else?
I don’t know.
But I want to.
I want every thought in her fucking head.
It’s different than it normally is.
Deeper.
More impossible to ignore.
I turn my attention to the road for the rest of the drive. Leighton taps something into her phone. Work or play or Mr. Powers, I don’t know.
I park.
She slides her cell into her purse. Turns every ounce of her attention to me. “You ready for this?”
No.
But I’m tired of waiting for shit.
I’m tired of watching the world slip by my fingers.
Stepping through the Winters’s oak door feels like stepping into the past. The living room is the same spacious paradise. White walls. Plush carpet. Sleek red couch. Cherry table.
Penny’s life—from her birth to some vacation a few years ago—is on the wall, right above her younger sister’s.
The room is packed. A dozen of Penny’s friends. A dozen of Frank’s—I assume the guys in khakis are his friends. And a dozen of her parents’ business partners.
She must hate that she needs Daddy’s money. That it comes with strings.
It doesn’t satisfy me.
I’m not smirking over how far she’s fallen.
I know her well enough to get how much it sucks.
Leighton’s fingers intertwine with mine. Her heels tap the tile as she crosses the foyer. They sink into the carpet of the living room.
Her eyes narrow on something.
Penny and Frank in the corner of the room, clinking champagne glasses with her dad and some guy his age. A friend. Or Frank’s dad.
Whoever it is, he’s happy for them.
He’s beaming.
She is too.
Her honey eyes light up as she laughs. She tilts her head back, downing the champagne in one go. Shakes her head damn, that was a lot. Looks up at Frank the way she used to look at me.
Asking for his approval.
His praise.
His love.
He gives it to her. He brings his glass to her lips. Smiles as she takes a long swig.
She rises to her tiptoes.
He wraps his hands around her waist.
They kiss like no one is watching.
Like they’ll never get enough of each other.
“Ryan.” Leighton’s nails dig into my wrist.
She’s trying to take the hit for me.
But she doesn’t need to.
It still hurts, seeing them together. It’s quick, like taking a hit during sparring.
It stings.
But it’s already fading.
They’re happy.
They’re good together.
He’s giving her something I couldn’t. Something I don’t want to give her.
Someone steps in front of them, blocking the scene.
Leighton pulls me closer. She raises a brow you okay?
I am. But I don’t know how to put it into words. I don’t know how to do anything but stare into her blue-green eyes.
They’re beautiful.
They’ve always been beautiful, but they’ve never hit me this deep.
“Oh babe, I’m so glad you took my advice.” Dean’s voice booms through the room. It turns a dozen heads.
Casts attention on us.
It feels like time fucking stops.
Like everyone is staring.
No, everyone is staring. Did the jilted ex really show?
“Take your advice?” Leighton makes a show of shuddering. “How disturbing.”
He hands a short, clear glass to her. “That’s all vodka.”
“Shit.” Her fingers curl around the glass. “Thank you.”
That must be three shots worth. I stare at my brother. Try to figure out his intentions.
Leighton says there’s nothing between them.
I want to believe her.
But she’s only close with a few people. Dean and I are the only guys.
One of us must be Mr. Powers.
It’s not me.
That leaves him.
“About your tits.” He slurps his Jack and coke. “They look fantastic.”
She adjusts her straps. “Thanks. I think.”
“Your ass too.” He winks at her.
She rolls her eyes, but she still smiles. Until her eyes catch mine, and her lips curl into a frown. “What do you want?”
“Why do you keep assuming I have complex motivations?” He takes another sip. “I have a drink. I have tits to ogle. I have a train wreck to anticipate.”
“Fuck off,” I say.
“Shit, it’s gonna be good.” Dean’s voice gets bouncy. “You want to bet on yourself? I’m giving five to one odds on you not causing a scene.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Leighton says.
“He can’t help himself.” I pull my wallet from my back pocket, grab two twenties, hand them to Dean. “You’re on.”
He chuckles as he slides the money into the pocket of his slacks—he’s wearing a suit. Navy. Like the one Leighton was pushing. “What do you say, Leigh—”
“Don’t call me that.” She slides her arm around my waist. “Wasn’t it bad enough betting on Kaylee’s virginity?”
“That was nothing compared to some of his shit,” I say.
Her fingers dig into my sides, pressing the fabric of my shirt into my skin. “You jealous she’s having better sex than you?”
“Those are fighting words, babe.” He tugs at his belt. “Don’t make me prove how good—”
“How would that prove you enjoy it?” She rolls her eyes.
“You’ll know by the way I groan.” He winks.
I’m not sure if I want to laugh or deck him. “He is loud.”
She scrunches her nose in disgust. “Too vivid of a mental picture.”
“That’s sound,” he says. “Not image.”
“It’s an expression.” Leighton shakes her head. “I’m gonna take that whole thing as a yes.”
He shrugs. “Nobody’s having better sex than Kay.”
“What about Iris?” she asks.
He laughs. “Yeah. She was really fucking loud at Walker’s birthday.” He turns to me. “Who’s your money on?”
“You,” I say.
“Me?” He raises a brow. “Shit. Blood is thicker than water—”
“You’re that in love with fucking yourself,” I say.
Leighton pulls her arm over her stomach, doubles over with laughter. Vodka sloshes over the sides of her glass. Lands on the carpet.<
br />
Dean chuckles. “That was good.” He raises his drink to toast “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
He leaves with a smug grin. But it’s his usual smug grin. It’s his default expression.
Slowly, she straightens herself. “Oh my God.” She licks her glass clean. “That was so good.”
“Thanks.” I unpeel her fingers from her glass. Take a long sip.
“You hate vodka.”
“Yeah, but I’m not gonna hold your hair back while you unload a bottle of Belvedere.”
“My hair is too short to get in the toilet.” She laughs. “But point taken.”
I take another sip. I don’t know the subtlety of vodka the way she does, but I can tell this is good shit.
Her fingers brush mine as she steals her glass back. “He deserved that.”
“Just speaking the truth.”
She locks her arm with mine. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah.” We move to the bar.
She wipes her glass. Refills it. Finds my favorite brand of bourbon—did Penny really buy this for me?—and pours.
I take my glass.
Leighton holds up hers. “To—”
“Masturbation?”
Her cheeks flush. “Sure.”
We clink glasses.
Drink.
Her cheeks flush. Her lips curl into a smile.
The rest of the room fades away. I forget about Dean’s flirting. About the possibility of another man. About the reason why we’re here.
I forget until I hear her voice. “Ryan, hey.” Penny’s fingers brush my wrist. “You look great.”
Leighton fights a glare.
I nod it’s okay.
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Oh, Penny—”
“Penelope.”
“Sorry, Penelope. Great party. You look nice.” Leighton forces her frown into a smile. “Not as nice as Ryan though.” She turns to me. Runs her fingers along my cheek. “You look amazing in that suit.”
My eyelids flutter closed. I lean into her touch.
This is for Penny’s benefit.
But it feels so fucking real.
Penny’s laugh is soft. “It is something, seeing you in a suit, Ryan.”
“Thanks.” My fingers curl around Leighton’s wrist. If she keeps touching me, I’m gonna have my lips on hers in two minutes flat. Then I’m gonna have that dress at her waist, and her panties at her knees and—
“Would you mind if we had a moment?” Penny asks.
Leighton shoots Penny a serene smile. “I’m not sure I’m ready to leave Ryan alone. Not when he looks this good.”
“I can imagine.” Penny’s voice is impossible to read.
I nod to Leighton it’s fine.
She bites her tongue. “I’m gonna find a snack.”
“There’s a tray in the kitchen.” Penny’s smile is soft. Sincere. She watches Leighton walk away with that same friendly expression.
Then it’s the two of us.
Her in a short ivory dress that screams bride.
Me in the kind of suit I swore I’d never wear.
She looks like the woman I fell in love with.
Like she’s prepping for our wedding.
But I don’t want that.
Not anymore.
I’m not sure what the fuck I want, but I know it’s not that.
Chapter 25
Ryan
“She’s protective of you.” Penny’s fingers curl around the stem of a champagne flute. “It’s sweet.”
“She doesn’t trust you.”
“I wouldn’t either.” She takes a small sip of bubbly.
“You think you have to tell me that?”
“I trusted you.”
That’s not how I remember it. Not the last few years. It didn’t make sense then. I was always loyal to her.
But that didn’t matter.
Cheating wears down your trust. If you see a cheater every time you look in the mirror, you start to look for them other places.
If you realize you’ve been sleeping next to a cheater for two years…
I want to be able to trust Leighton completely. But, fuck, it’s hard.
“I didn’t trust other women. I knew how they looked at you,” she says.
“What are you getting at, Pen?”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have her.”
“Both can be true.” She taps the bar with her French-manicured finger. “I thought about what you said.”
“You’re the one who said shit.”
“Okay. About what I said. I was too harsh.”
“You’re taking it back?”
“No. I meant every word. But it’s not fair for me to blame you for what I did. It was innocent with Frank at first. We were friends. But I realized I was falling for him and I kept meeting him for lunch. I kept crying on his shoulder. I kept soaking up every one of his secrets.” She sets her glass on the bar. “I knew what I was doing when I went to his place the first time. Deep down, I knew I needed to end things with you first. I really am sorry about that. I’m sorry I made you feel like it was your fault.”
I bring my glass to my lips.
“It wasn’t. We weren’t meant to be, but that was my fault, not yours.”
I shake my head. “You were right. I stopped respecting you. I started putting up walls.”
Her shoulders relax. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s not for you, Pen. It’s for me.”
“It seems like it worked out.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s fiery.”
I laugh. “She is.”
Penny laughs. “I guess that’s always been your type.” She brings her glass to her lips and takes a sip. “Are you happy with her?”
My jaw cricks. It feels good, accepting her apology, offering mine. But I can’t have Penny in my head or my heart anymore. “Don’t ask me shit like that.”
“I care about you.”
The words twist something in my brain. They’re too familiar and too different. I want every ounce of them and none of them. “Then stop.”
“Ryan.” Her nails dig into the stem of her flute.
“You lost the right to say my name that way a long time ago.”
She sinks into her heels. “I’m sorry.”
“Then prove it by respecting me—”
“I do.”
Bourbon warms my throat. Sends my thoughts swimming.
“Mom is watching us.” Penny nods to her mom, sitting on the couch with her dad. Mrs. Winters looks the same as always—pretty, well-dressed, some mix of classy and grown up wild child. “She’s glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I swallow another sip of bourbon. “You look happy.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
She looks up at me. “Really?”
“I always wanted that for you.”
“Even after I—”
“Not at that moment.” But now, I do. I want to let go of that last bit of hate in my gut. I want to be free of her. “You love him as much as it looks like you do?”
Her honey eyes light up. “I really do.”
My throat tightens, but a deep breath opens my airways. “Good.”
“But the wedding stuff is driving me crazy.”
“That’s normal, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.” She takes a long sip. “I didn’t realize Dad was going to be this hands on. I get he wants to use this as some bullshit write off, but it’s still a wedding, not a business meeting. I try to tell Frank that, but he just reminds me Dad’s footing the bill.”
“He is.”
“I know. And I know I’m lucky. But I wish he ‘got it.’”
I arch a brow.
“Working at his company is a headache. Dad nixed my idea about a feminist column. He thinks it will alienate half our demo even though we’re a women’s intere
st site. When I told Frank, he took Dad’s side—”
“That’s just stupidity.”
She laughs.
“Every guy knows better.”
“Maybe. I’m glad he’s honest with me, but—”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“Yeah.” She takes a long sip. “It felt good, being pissed about the injustice of it. But it would have felt better doing something other than dealing with makeup advertisers.” She looks up at me. “Sorry. I know you hate hearing about my job.”
I do. But that’s not what’s weird about this.
It’s how much I see the Penny I fell in love with.
She’s still there, under the layer of business casual. At least, a part of her is.
And a part of me wants her.
But it’s smaller than it used to be.
Quieter.
“I can’t believe I let Mom talk me into this party.” She finishes her glass and sets it on the bar. “It’s as bad as my eighteenth birthday.”
“Can’t be that bad.”
She laughs. “No. I guess not. But it’s pretty bad. This is my first interesting conversation all night.”
“You don’t show it.”
“I know how to play Daddy’s girl, I guess.”
I nod. She fought with her dad a lot when we were younger, but she always knew how to get him on her side.
“It’s all bizarre and formal.” She smooths her ivory dress. “Not how a bachelorette party is supposed to feel.”
“You need to tuck some ones into a stripper’s g-string?”
She laughs. “Pretty much.”
“Dean’s somewhere.”
“Dean hates me.”
“Use reverse psychology. Tell him you hate strippers. He’ll call one to ruin your night.”
“I’ll consider that.” Her fingers brush my wrist as she brings her hands to her side. “But what if he starts stripping?”
“Not sure there’s any way to prevent that.” I scan the room for my brother, but he’s not in my eye line. “You had to know that was a risk with inviting him.”
“True.” Her eyes linger on me. There’s an affection in her gaze, but it’s not an invitation. It’s something else. “It really is good to see you happy.”
“Thanks.” I finish my last sip of bourbon. “I better find my girl.”
Her smile is soft. “Don’t let her mess it up.”
If only I had any fucking control over that.
My shoulders relax as Penny turns and walks away. It’s easier talking to her, but it still steals the warmth in the room.
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