For old time’s sake.
Especially when she hooks her leg around me, pulling me closer.
Slam. The refrigerator adjacent to us slams shut and Keatyn’s chef, Marvel, says, “Oh! Excusez-moi.”
But the fucker doesn't leave.
He places a bunch of vegetables on the island and starts chopping them.
Ariela slowly extricates herself from our embrace.
“I know," she says sadly. “It meant nothing.”
She walks away from me, stopping by the patio door to grab a beer from an ice bucket.
She doesn't even turn to look back.
Just like the last time.
I should leave.
But I’ll be damned if I will. These are my friends.
I try to pull myself together with another long swig of scotch.
Aiden slaps my back, sneaking up from behind me and causing me to choke. “How we doing?”
“I’m fine. I mean, I knew, eventually, I’d probably see her again someday. I was cordial.”
“I guess kissing her like that would be considered cordial.” He smirks. “That why you’re downing my good scotch?”
“It didn’t mean anything,” I say, trying to convince myself. “Fuck.” I hand him the bottle. “I mean, What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck?”
“Maybe it’s sorta like fate.” He smirks again as he pours two fingers of scotch into a short glass.
Bastard thinks this is funny.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. It might have worked on Keatyn, but it won’t work on me.”
He hands me the glass then pours one for himself. Damn, if he isn’t a good friend.
“I forgot to tell you, but congrats on the engagement. It sounds like it went off without a hitch.” Yes, I’m changing the subject. I have to.
“Mostly,” Aiden says with another grin.
“Mostly?”
He glances out the patio door, where Keatyn is happily chatting with Ariela, Dallas, and RiAnne.
“Doesn’t she look more beautiful than ever?” he asks.
I look at Ariela and say, “Yes,” before I realize he was referring to Keatyn. I cover by saying, “She always looks pretty. RiAnne, though, gosh, she looks like she’s ready to explode.”
“Better not let her hear you say that.”
“I don’t have a death wish. What did you mean by mostly?”
“The engagement went well. She just always seems to surprise me.”
“I woulda been surprised if she said no. You were so worried.”
“It’s not that we didn’t want to get married. We just never had the time.”
“Never took the time, you mean.”
“And now, we are. Come on, let’s go out there. Be nice and talk to Ariela. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“I could care less about Ariela,” I lie. “And I’m sure as shit not going to try to impress her.”
“Okay,” Aiden says, “then just be cordial.”
“Smart ass,” I mutter.
As I follow him to the deck, I remind myself that I’m here to hang out with my friends. That we’ll have a delicious dinner, some great wine, and enjoy the sunset.
And as soon as we’re done, I’m leaving.
I’ll go home, scroll through my phone, and choose a girl at random from the list.
Then I’ll fuck her and forget all about Ariela.
When I approach the table, I do what I’m supposed to do. I pat RiAnne’s tummy, tell her she looks great, and give Dallas my scotch.
With four kids under seven and another one on the way, he probably needs it more than I do.
I can handle this.
Although, I’m thankful when Marvel brings out the first course and Keatyn tells everyone where to sit.
I figured she’d keep trying to play matchmaker and seat me by Ariela.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, I’m seated right across from Ariela.
So I have to see her face.
Watch her blink and flirt with Dallas, who even though he is happily-ever-after married to RiAnne, is fucking flirting with my girl.
My girl.
Where the fuck did that come from?
The night goes from bad to worse with one innocent question.
“So, what have you been doing since Eastbrooke?” Dallas asks Ariela.
She sets her wine glass down, absentmindedly pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.
That simple gesture takes me back in time.
To her leaping into my arms and telling me she got accepted to USC. I had gotten my letter eleven excruciatingly long days before she did. We were both so happy. Our dreams were coming true.
Until later that night when she came to my room in tears.
Riley, I don’t know what I’m going to do. My dad says I can’t go to California with you.
Fuck your dad. You’re eighteen. You can do what you want.
I have to be able to afford it, Riley.
We’re in love, kitty. That’s all we need.
Pushing her hair behind her ear, she sniffled and said, You’re right, love is all that matters.
Except she lied.
“Well, I went to college at Princeton.”
“Just like Daddy wanted,” I snap, unable to bite my tongue.