"Are you saying that you wouldn’t have invited me?" She has a serious face, and I suddenly feel like a dick for bringing it up when her mouth slowly forms a smile. Now it’s her turn to chuckle while she brings her glass of scotch to her mouth. She takes a sip, and I want to suck her lower lip into my mouth right before my tongue slides into her mouth. "So if I invited you to my wedding," she says, and the knot in my stomach feels like it’s turning and twisting. "You wouldn’t come?"
I grab the glass of scotch, downing the rest of it as a lump grows in my throat, and the anger starts to form and spreads from my toes all the way to the tip of my head. "Are you getting married anytime soon?" Everything in me stops while I wait for her to answer the question. For four years, I pretended I was fine. For four years, I let myself only think of her on special days, like the day we met, her birthday, and until this day, no one knows why Halloween was always my most hated holiday.
She finishes her own scotch and then places the glass down. The bartender comes over and refills the glasses. "Can I have water also?" He nods at her and then comes back with a bottle of water. "What did you ask?" She looks at me, and it takes everything I have not to reach out and tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear.
"I asked if you were getting married anytime soon," I repeat the question, and this time my hand holds the glass of scotch harder than I did before as my heartbeat fills my ears.
"Nope." She shakes her head, taking a pull of her water bottle. She dabs her lips with a napkin. "Not anytime soon, that is." She looks around the venue now.
"Haven’t met the one?" I ask her, taking another long pull of scotch.
"Thought I did." She turns from me, looking at the dance floor away from me. "Didn’t work out."
I want to ask her who the guy was. I want to ask her if I was that guy. I want to ask her everything. I want to know everything. "How did you meet Jennifer?"
"Work," I say, and she just nods. "She was watching her friend’s cat for the weekend, and the cat ate her birth control pills."
She nods, not sure what to say. "Are you dating?"
"Not at the moment," she replies, and I’m pretty sure I’m a glutton for punishment at this point.
"How long were you two dating?" She turns to look at the bar as she spins the glass of scotch in her hand.
"About a year," I say, and her head just nods. "Did you open the practice like you wanted to?"
"I did." She smiles, and it makes what I did feel just a touch better. Breaking up with her so that she could open her practice was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
"Bet your dad is happy you're home." I get up and lean against the bar. The sound of people on the dance floor clapping has me turning my head to look and see what is going on.
"Is he doing the Worm?" Harlow tilts her head toward my side to see what is going on. She is right in front of me, and I can feel her heat on my arm as she leans in. "Oh my God." She puts her hand on my arm, laughing. "He’s doing the full Worm." I look at the dance floor and see that Jake is now doing the Worm from one end of the dance floor to the other, and then he tries to go back while everyone cheers him on.
He gets up and high-fives Frankie, who takes off his jacket and looks like he’s about to get on the dance floor. "They are insane," I state, not moving because I’m afraid she’s going to let go of my arm.
I look to the side and see that Shelby is talking to a guy dressed in a black suit with a hat under his arm. She looks around the room, and when she finds me, she comes straight for me. "Okay, so your car is here.” I look at her, and Harlow’s hand falls off my arm.
My skin still tingles from where she had her hand on me. "My car?" I ask, confused.
"Did you listen to anything we spoke about at the wedding meetings?" she hisses out. "Like anything?"
"One"—I hold up my finger—"we didn’t have one."
"Well, I’m sure I mentioned it." She tries to remember and then flips her hands. "It was supposed to whisk you guys away like a glass carriage. But what now is more like a pumpkin since you were ditched on your wedding day. It’s going to take you away," Shelby says and flaps her arms like a bird. "You need to be outside in five minutes."
"Oh, are we going to throw rice and stuff?" Harlow asks, clapping her hands and laughing. She gasps. "Blow balloons?"
"You mean bubbles," Shelby corrects, and she laughs even harder now.
"If there was a bride, I’d say sure," Shelby says, then points at me. "But since he’s a lone wolf, he gets nothing."
"You know what you should have done," Harlow shares, and whatever she is thinking is really funny to her because she can’t stop laughing. Her laughter is infectious because now Shelby starts to laugh with her. "You should have married yourself," she finally says, and Shelby howls in laughter.
"I’m going to go and tell the driver if you aren’t there in five minutes that he can leave." She turns and walks toward the kitchen.
"What are you going to do?" She looks over at me with the loaded question.
"Want to get out of here?" I ask her, knowing that I’m putting myself out there to be crushed. But I also know that if I didn’t ask her, I would end up regretting not taking the chance. She just looks at me. "I mean, how many times can you say you rode in a limo with a jilted groom?”
"I don’t think anyone has ever done that," she points out. "But we should ask your sisters. They would know for sure."
"Or," I say with a smirk. "You could be the first, Harlow." I finish the scotch and stand. "Besides, I don’t want the night to end just yet."
She spins the glass of scotch in her hand and brings it to her lips. "You think that’s a good idea?" She looks at me, waiting for my answer as she finishes the drink.
"Probably not." I shake my head. "But the universe brought us together again."
"I don’t think we can blame the universe for this," she quips. "It was the wedding invitation that did it."
"Whatever it was," I say. "I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet." If she says no, I’m going to walk out and tell the driver to leave. I put my hands in my pockets instead of reaching out and dragging her out of here. "So what do you say?"
"Fine," she agrees. "I have to get my shoes." She points down to her bare feet. Her toenails are painted cherry red.
"I have to get my jacket and talk to my sisters. I’ll meet you there." I point at the door that Shelby went into.
"Okay," she says and walks away from me. I take a second to watch her walk back to the table.
I turn and walk around the bar, grabbing a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "Put it on my tab," I tell the bartender, who laughs as he wipes down the bar and picks up the two empty glasses we left. I look around, spotting Presley talking to someone, and when she looks over at me carrying the bottle, she holds up her finger to the girl. It takes her a second before she comes over to me.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks, pointing at the bottle and two glasses.
"My car is here, and I’m going to take off," I explain, and she cocks her hip while folding her arms over her chest.
"You think you are going to go get drunk in the car?" she asks. "How old are you, eighteen?"
"I’m actually older than you and"—I look down and then up—"I’m going to take off."
"Alone?" she asks, tapping her foot, and I just glare at her. "Oh my God, are you leaving with Harlow?"
"Mind your business," I advise. "And focus on the fact that you and Bennett have been playing cat and mouse." I point at her, and she shrieks out. "Have a good night."
"Asshole," she hisses, and then I walk away laughing, going to the spot where I told Harlow to meet me. I stand here looking around the room and spot her at the table with Rachel.
"Fuck, she’s beautiful," I say to myself. "Don’t fuck it up!” my head shouts back.
Chapter 10
Harlow
I walk over to the table. My head is screaming at me that this is a bad idea. Sitting on the chair, I slip my feet back in my heels, and bend to tie the strap around my ankle. "Hey," Rachel says, sitting down in the empty chair beside me. She has sweat on the corner of her forehead, and she grabs a glass of water and downs it. Her chest is heaving from dancing so much. "God, that was fun," she says breathlessly.