Across From You

by Amabel Daniels

  “Good things?” I asked.

  Lexi raised her brows conspiratorially and didn’t answer. “You guys were partnered right from the get-go, right?”

  I nodded. “We’ve been partners pretty much since we started.”

  Lexi made a noise of agreement as we were instructed to one, two our asses along the aisle. Is that a cane? Claudia now held a rod of some sort, thwacking the weapon to the count. She stole a mini crucifix to emphasize her point?

  Lexi frowned at the wedding planner for a second longer as well before continuing. “I think she had a thing for you at first.”

  I couldn’t blink any faster, kind of blindsided by this news. “Uh uh.”

  “Uh huh. If she hadn’t met Paul the month after you guys were partnered up, I bet it’d be you up there on the altar.” She flicked a finger to point where Bev’s fiancé waited on the altar, seeming to cower from Claudia’s orders of where to stand, physically flinching when she used the cross as a pointer.

  “I doubt that.”

  Her arm pulled on mine enough to let me know she was facing my profile directly. “That she was attracted to you?”

  That I ever could’ve returned the sentiment to Bev. Marriage wasn’t off the table for me, but it sure seemed like a distant hope. And while Bev was a great coworker and hardworking partner, she never would have suited me in any other way.

  “She actually babbled. Went on and on about how hot her new partner was.”

  Frowning, I refused to meet her gaze or show how uneasy her words could make me.

  “Of course, you were just the kind of guy she liked back then. So it makes sense.”

  In the due course of torturing myself, I asked, “What kind of guy?”

  “Partied hard. Clubbing. Flirty and full of…life.”

  Talk about blunt. And false, where it mattered.

  “I don’t like to be bored.” Cue, deflection. Act one.

  “And women are just an excellent choice of toys to play with.”

  Now that was too far. I tightened my arm to stomach, pulling her closer to my side. Bev wasn’t kidding when she said Lexi could be uncoordinated. Because in my sudden movement, she yelped loudly and nearly crashed into me, smashing her breasts into my torso. Vanilla and citrus flooded my nose.

  “I can’t help you, people, if you—can’t—hear—me!” Claudia yelled from the altar, tapping the wooden stick on the floor between words.

  I helped Lexi straighten next to me. “Then maybe—”

  I covered my hand over Lexi’s shout. “Sorry. Carry on,” I called out to the front.

  Brown barbs of fury shot from Lexi’s glare and I raised my brows. “Probably not a great idea to anger a woman using a crucifix as a pointer.”

  She shoved my hand away. “Because she’s already going to hell?”

  “Because she might be from hell.” I frowned at her.

  “Then don’t yank me around.” She tried to withdraw her arm from me.

  “Then don’t jump to conclusions. Just because Bev thinks I’m some player doesn’t mean I am.”

  “Fine. Player, not a player. None of my business.”

  “Why not?”

  She squirreled her face into a smirk.

  Huh? Why not? She was giving me an out, no expectation of having to get to know each other. Privacy was important to me. As much as I did go out, I really liked being an introvert at heart. I didn’t need anyone getting in my business in a world where nothing was sacred or secret.

  But, why not? Why wouldn’t it matter to her if I was a good guy? It mattered to me.

  “Uh…”

  I couldn’t gain my footing. Her insult dug a little too deep. I didn’t play with women. They might single me out for fun, but no one had claimed victory since I was in high school.

  “Forget it, Jack.”

  Forget it? Nope. Not happening. I was just too slow to keep up, trying to remember where it’d gone wrong between us in the first place. Boredom? That was my excuse for why Bev might’ve perpetrated me as a ladies’ man? What other options did I have? If I wanted to go out with some friends and catch a game at the bar, it didn’t mean I was a welcome mat for women to hit on me. If I wanted to go to the damn grocery store and get food, it didn’t mean I wanted to be cornered and asked out. “I don’t play with women.” And I didn’t solicit their attention, either.

  “Sure.”

  The fuck? She refused to take my word for it? Again, why did it matter?

  It didn’t. It couldn’t. She’d already pegged me. Playing, hot womanizer. Labeled.

  Only, she wasn’t throwing herself at me. Disregarding the initial lust and desire that bled from her gaze, Lexi was the first woman in a long time. The first one who’d failed to make a move. Her only moves were to get away from me, repelled by something I couldn’t see. I was the spider and she was jumping back and screaming.

  Disappointment felt funny in my throat, like an unchewed chunk of hard bread. Not in her. In me. Maybe it was her blunt and obvious dislike of me since I was in clothes and not standing like a stud to study and stare at. Take sex out of the equation and now I was just a man who must use women. Had she ever considered women might turn the tables? Try to use me?

  Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I refused to be an asshole when turning women down, but sometimes people disliked the idea of no meaning no.

  I squinted at Paul on the altar. Eyeing his finger where he’d have a ring tomorrow.

  Not for the first time, I considered pretending I was married. That would put them in their place. A symbol of being taken. Period. Done. Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that I’d never find a woman who could really claim me. How could she, this fictional woman who’d be perfect for me? It wasn’t like I was willing to give anyone a chance. Not even the alluring brunette at my side.

  Five

  Lexi

  I could almost sympathize with Claudia’s work ethics. She was damned determined to get Bev’s party wedding to march to the beat and line up just so. A perfectionist to her career. Cuddly Creation sounded like a fluffy idea— Who was I kidding? It was a store for too-expensive stuffed animals, no other way to put it. Management, though, was a beast in itself. I didn’t have my Cuddle Masters jumping to productivity at the mere sound of my voice. But I didn’t use Jesus Christ on a wooden stick as my pointer. And that level of fear in employees might be asking for occupational therapy. Regardless, the midget of a wedding planner was dedicated to getting the group in order. Admirable. Bev was getting her money’s worth. But after three more takes and another hour of standing around in the chapel, it was annoying. Exhausting.

  Bev and Paul were the focus now, standing at the altar and listening to Claudia’s instructions about placement. Strange how there were fifty different ways to stand “right there!” The rest of us in the party were forgotten. Or mercifully ignored. Claudia’s pantsuit assistant refused to admit any of us exit from the chapel, so we waited, and waited. I didn’t know the other bridesmaids enough to talk with them—sorority sisters from Bev’s college days. Nor was I close to Bev’s older brother, a cousin I never really hung out with. Alone then, and unoccupied, I leaned against the back of a pew and searched for my phone in my purse.

  “Are you the—”

  I ran. The simple start of that question and the curious tone of voice propelled me to flee. Not again. I refused to be a victim of that breakup post any longer. Would Zuckerberg delete the post if I begged? Maybe I could hire a Russian hacker to erase it for me? Anything?

  There weren’t many places to escape to. The bridesmaid who approached me returned to the small group chatting near the exit, laughing. I refused to get near Claudia and the altar. I sat in a pew off to the side, plopping my butt next to Jack.

  He hadn’t said another word since our little hiccup. Maybe it was a burp? Something disruptive. He’d been casual and charming before I’d broached the subject of his attitude toward women. Enough that I began to think he might be a nice guy
hidden in a hot body. How quickly I fell into that idiotic habit, thinking a guy might not be that bad.

  But no. He’d done a complete one-eighty. Pissed that I called him on his playing ways. I guessed no one liked being informed of their faults. Showing his spots shouldn’t have bothered him that much unless he was unaware of his behavior of thinking women were answers to boredom. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes as I settled in next to him.

  Away from the others, it was quieter. But not so silent I missed the growl of his stomach.

  “Wanna make a bet on when we’ll get the hell out of here?”

  He grunted and shoved to sit upright. “My last bet didn’t turn out so well.”

  It did for me. I smiled as I dug into my bag. “Ah.” Once I found the remaining gummy worms, I handed the package to him. Yeah, he was prickly earlier. Maybe it was because he was starved. I knew a thing or two about being hangry.

  Still, he eyed me carefully. I shrugged and started to retract my peace offering.

  “Thanks.” He quickly took it from me.

  “I’m gonna wager we’re stuck here for another hour.”

  “Twenty minutes, tops.” He pulled out a pink and yellow worm and tipped his head back to drop it in his mouth.

  Did necks always have that many cords of muscles? I aborted my gawking before he could catch me. Hey, just because he might be a jerk didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the beauty on the outside. “How’d you get roped into this, anyhow? You’re that good of a friend to be stuck in the wedding party?”

  “I was a last resort. Filling in for your cousin?”

  I nodded and stared at the paintings on the domed ceilings. My brain knew he was a player, but the lusty bits of me silenced the alarm system. I couldn’t just leer at him so close to me. That image of him smirking at me while naked—it was going to take a lot longer to purge that flutter from my stomach.

  “Bev asked and I figured why not. I can be a nice guy.”

  Oh yeah? Then why did he start out so kind and damned charming and then morph into an asshole? After he’d tried to deny that he was a player, he’d Dr. Jeckyll’d into an aloof, quiet man, keeping his distance from me as much as possible. I’d never realized how easy it was to be miles away from the person standing right next to you.

  “Hmm.”

  I’d leave him in his denial. If he wanted to insist he didn’t use women, then that was his call. Denial equaled effort. Flaws were inevitable. What did they say? It is what it is? Yes, it was. He could use women, but he wouldn’t get close enough to play with me. Jack didn’t have to have any impact on my life, other than providing a wicked visual. And standing across from me at a wedding.

  “Hey,” he said and slid closer.

  I turned my head to rest my cheek on my shoulder, too tired to prop myself up in anything other than a lazy slouch.

  “Can we start over?”

  All the way over? I wasn’t ready to surrender my first encounter with him. I’d planned to be resourceful and use that for many fantasies in the future. Maybe that was pervy of me. But come on, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was getting into when he posed nude. “Today?”

  A slight blush hinted on his cheeks. It was hard to tell with his tanned skin, but when he smiled shyly and broke eye contact, I had my answer. Well, well. Seemed he was embarrassed about his little modeling deal. Or he was uncomfortable with me remembering him in the nude.

  I felt my face crumple in confusion. Not exactly a player kind of reaction. He didn’t seem sure and confident now. Interesting. Or maybe he was faking his unease.

  “Sure. Today.” He held his hand out for a shake.

  A treaty? Holding onto grudges wasn’t my thing. Except for corporate pulling off that insane sale day earlier in the week. I’d never let the regional manager hear the end of it. Yet my anger had waned from the hashtag breakup. Not that I’d forget about it. Ha. How could I when the whole world would remind me? I could move on past it. One life and all that jazz.

  I shook his hand, and while his touch did snare me into wanting to feel more of him, I refrained from the awkward too-long handclasp from earlier. No unnecessary clinging. Bravo. Maybe I could learn to resist a sexy man. “I’m Lexi Regan. Nice to meet you.”

  “Jack O’Connell. Hi.”

  Introductions done, again, I waited. This newfound lack of conversation was…odd. Too long. Jesus. He was more than just a gorgeous guy, I was capable of intelligent chitchat, and we weren’t complete strangers. Our initial meeting sat between us like a ghost of epic awkwardness. Probably how a gynecologist would be freaked at seeing a porn star patient in a non-clinical setting. Here I was trying to dismiss mentally undressing him, and he was probably trying to forget he’d even modeled. I couldn’t drum up one avenue of small talk. Nothing. Nada.

  Still, he didn’t speak, making me laugh at the idea that he might be as intimidated by me as I was of him. When he did open his mouth to say something, a smile stretching his lips and his eyes twinkling with mischief, I nearly whimpered.

  No. Not him, too. Not again. I’d cry if he asked me about that goddamn breakup post. It was a miracle of miracles that Bev hadn’t caught wind of it. Too obsessed in her own newsfeed and wedding hashtags to pay attention to the world around her. I refused to be identified by being royally dumped.

  “Do you want some audio credits?” As far as blurting something random went, it was a bizarre one.

  “Uh… Sure?” He quirked a brow.

  “I have some free credits.”

  He nodded. “How do you know I like to read books?”

  “You mean listen to them?”

  His smile mirrored my lips. “Same thing.”

  “Pfft. Hardly.”

  “I’m getting the impression you’re not fond of listening, period.”

  I smirked. Maybe being management rubbed that off on me. Too used to giving orders than receiving. “It’s impossible to enjoy a book that way.”

  “Why?”

  “I like to talk back.”

  His chuckle relaxed me. “You don’t say. But to a book?”

  “Yeah. Come on. You’ve never read something and thought, ‘Yeah right!’ Or wanted to yell at the characters not to do something stupid?”

  “Sure, I’ve thought that. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Well, I don’t just think it. So when I talk back, I miss what was being narrated and have to back up and go forward again. It gets tedious.”

  “I can see how it might.” As he folded up the empty gummy worm package, Claudia shushed him from the altar. How the hell could she hear the wrapper crumpling from the distance? Maybe Jack was right. She was a creature of otherworldly demonic nature. Destined to make all engaged couples creep even closer to insanity all while hurtling on a wedding train.

  “But how do you know I like to read?” he whispered lower this time. He’d coupled his quieter tone with scooching closer to me so that there was no gap between our hips.

  “Ah…” Goddamn, what was he wearing? Clothes, yes. I knew. I knew. He was in fact no longer naked. Crime that it was. But his smell. Cologne teased me instead of inducing a gag. I needed to get closer to get a good sniff of the woodsy, smoky—

  “How do you know I like to read?” he repeated. His voice being that much closer to my ear snapped me away. Leaning? How did that happen? Is it some technique bulleted out in a player’s manual? Don’t saturate oneself with cologne and it will literally drag a woman up to one’s chest? Effective trickery.

  I huffed and settled back into my slouch. “Um. Bev’s mentioned it. You read, well, listen to audiobooks on your breaks at work.”

  “Or when it’s just slow and boring on the road,” he admitted.

  “Hmm. And you don’t like to get bored. Right.”

  He pivoted to face me fully and the dare in his glare giddied me up to push him a little more. No, wait. That was the devil talking. More restraint. Less temptation? Sounded like a punishment.

  “You took that out of co
ntext,” he insisted.

  “Guess that proves I’m really not awesome at listening.” I tapped at my ear.

  He growled but didn’t push the topic. Maybe it was better that way. Not like I had any business trying to find the good side of him. Wouldn’t make much sense if I was newly devoted to avoiding assholes at large.

  “So, Bev’s talked about me?” I asked before he could have the chance to reply or say something else.

  “Yeah.” He inhaled deeply. “And she puts you on speaker a lot.”

  Of course. I knew that. Bev and I were close, sister-kind of close. And it really must be boring to be a state trooper on the highway when no one was speeding. She often talked to me to kill time, she said, alone or when Jack was in the cruiser with her—

  I gasped, recalling my last conversation on the phone with Bev. When she’d goaded me into talking about that one dream. Sneaky little biotch, not telling me Jack was in the car. Plus some drunk in the back. “I’m not a lesbian!”

  “Cease. The. Distractions!” Claudia yelled with stomps of the cross to the ground.

  “Oh, quit your blasphemy,” I retorted.

  Deep, yet soft laughter escaped him. My preference of the opposite sex could not matter to him. But still. False perceptions and all that. It did matter to me. And I refused to think for a second why expressing my availability was a pivotal detail when I’d vowed to go cold turkey on guys like Jack.

  “I know.”

  “You know?” I couldn’t see how. Jack knew of me. Okay. Didn’t mean he knew me.

  His shoulders lifted. “Well, you’ve only dated men.”

  Was this what Bev talked about? My dating life? I refused to believe she was that hard-pressed for things to chat about. The weather had more action than me. Then again, retelling my woes of finding a guy was probably pretty damn hilarious. Like, if those stories happened to someone else. Not me. Or…

  He knew. He was aware of the hashtag breakup. He had to. Panic stormed in my gut. I didn’t want to be a hashtag dumpee. And the cruel line that explained why I was discarded… It still stung.