by M. A. Foster
“She thinks Logan’s a bitch.”
This isn’t going to end well.
“Let me give you a little piece of advice. There will be many Logans from now until you graduate college. But there will only be one Chloe.”
“What does that mean?” he asks, confused.
“It means, true friendship is rare. If you really like Logan, talk to Chloe and make sure she understands your intentions. Either way she’s going to feel a little jealous. Not because she wants to be your girlfriend, but because she’ll have to share you with another female. When it comes to friendships with the opposite sex, no one likes to share. If things progress with Logan, make sure she understands and accepts your friendship with Chloe. I’m not gonna lie, Aiden, you’ll most likely have to give one of them up. If it comes down to that, you’ll have to decide which one you can live without.”
“That’s a lot of stress to put on a fourteen-year-old, Uncle Liam.”
“You’ll thank me one day.” Chuckling, I move to stand behind home plate. “What are you pitching now? Seventy?”
“Seventy-six.”
“Impressive.” I squat down on my haunches. “Let’s see if you can knock me on my ass.”
LIAM
“Come dance with your favorite uncle,” I say with a grin, extending a hand to Jay. I lead her to the dance floor, and she turns, facing me. Clasping her hand in mine, I curl my arm around her waist and we sway to Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman in this room tonight.”
“Isn’t that the point of being the bride?” she quips, a knowing smirk on her face.
I throw my head back and laugh. This girl.
“I’m not saying that because you’re the bride, crazy girl. And I’m not even saying it because you’re my favorite person. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I pause. “Your father would be beaming with pride.”
A look of remorse flashes in her eyes before she looks away. “I don’t think my dad would be proud of me after what I did or for hurting my mom.”
Marcus would’ve been beyond pissed. “True, but if he were still here, would you have eloped?”
“No,” she clips. “I’m not saying my mom is less important to me, but my dad was supposed to be the one to walk me down the aisle. And if he couldn’t be here, then I didn’t want a wedding.”
I figured as much. Leaning my head back, I look down at her. “So that’s why you eloped.” It’s not a question.
She gives a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe… I don’t know. I guess that makes you, Mom, and me the three black sheep of the family.”
I shake my head. “Nah. We’re not black sheep. We’re hopeless romantics. We follow our hearts. But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to protect.” I wink.
“True.” She laughs softly as her gaze darts over my shoulder. “Do you believe in soul mates?”
I turn my head to see Zach dancing with his grandma. He raises his arm, and she twirls around.
Smiling, I return my attention to Jay. “I wouldn’t be much of a hopeless romantic if I didn’t.”
“I guess not.” Jay smiles. “It’s crazy, but I always knew Zach and I would be together. Even when I didn’t talk to him for almost an entire year.”
“When was this?”
“Before we moved here. It was a stupid misunderstanding. We were young—”
“You’re still young,” I cut her off, chuckling.
“I know,” she agrees. “The last few years haven’t been easy on any of us, and if this family knows anything, it’s that life is short. Why delay the inevitable?” She beams up at me. “My dad always said he knew the moment he laid eyes on my mom that she was his soul mate.”
That’s true.
“Do you believe a person has more than one soul mate?” I ask curiously.
“If they’re lucky.” She turns her head, and I follow her line of sight to the table where my sister is sitting beside Cam, a blissful smile stretched across her beautiful face. Cam is leaning into her ear, one arm draped across the back of her chair while his other hand rests on her belly. “Cam is good for her,” she says. “I’m happy for them, and I’m really excited about the baby. What about you?”
“I still think it’s weird. I haven’t been around to see them as a couple, so it’s gonna take me some time to get used to it.”
“It was hard for me, too. But it’s Cam,” she says, and I get it. There’s a reason he’s been my best friend my entire life. “How are you doing after seeing Vanessa last night?”
I suck in a breath through my nose. “This is your special day. We don’t need to talk about my shit.”
She quirks a brow. “My day was two months ago on a beach in St. Thomas.” That earns another chuckle from me. “It’s been years since I actually thought about Vanessa, but I liked hanging out with her. You know I didn’t have many friends, and Evangeline was busy with modeling, so she wasn’t around that much. Vanessa would let me come over and play with her puppy, Princess something—”
“Buttercup.”
“Yes, from The Princess Bride. The first time I ever watched that movie was with Vanessa. She would braid my hair, paint my nails, and listen to me gush over Zach. She was like a big sister to me.” She gives me a sad smile. “I came over to your house the day she left. I didn’t know she’d left, but I was coming up the back steps and I heard you yelling. I’d never heard you like that before, and it scared me. I went home and told my mom and dad that something happened and to go over and check on you. Later, when they came back, my mom told me that Vanessa had left and that you were upset. I remember asking you about her, and you said, ‘Things didn’t work out,’ and that’s all you would say. I was mad at her for leaving you, and for leaving me. She didn’t even tell me goodbye. My feelings were hurt, and I missed her. Then you started bringing other women around, and I figured that was it. I put her out of my mind and moved on from it. I don’t want to know what happened between you and Vanessa—”
“That’s a first,” I interject sarcastically.
“—because it won’t change anything, nor will it affect how much I love you.”
Emotion clogs my throat. Releasing her hand, I wrap both arms around her and hug her to my chest. This right here is why she’s my favorite person. “I love you, too.”
The song comes to an end, and I release her. “Can I just say one more thing?”
I roll my eyes playfully and grin. “Of course.”
“You know that saying: ‘If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, it’s meant to be.’ My dad was the most romantic man I’ve ever known. He believed in love at first sight, soul mates, and fate. He used to say everything happens exactly the way it’s supposed to.”
“Your dad was a very smart man.”
“He was.” She gives me a thoughtful look. “If you truly feel Vanessa is your soul mate, you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“Where’s your date?” Evangeline asks as she parks herself in the chair beside me.
Evangeline Skye is Jay’s childhood best friend. She’s a few years older than Jay, so she’s always treated her more like a little sister than a friend. My family calls her the “beautiful bitch,” and I couldn’t agree more.
Evangeline is one of the highest paid supermodels to walk the runway, as she should be. She’s flawlessly beautiful aside from her smart mouth, bitchy persona, and the fact that she hates everyone outside her social circle. But those of us close to her know it’s all part of her charm.
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and while I’ve learned from most of them, some have left me wallowing in regret. Vanessa will always be my biggest regret and one I’m not yet ready to move on from. Evangeline is a close second. She was my first attempt at a relationship after Vanessa. We kept our relationship on the down low, and it only lasted a few weeks before it turned into a shitshow of epic proportions.
Evangeline showed up one morning while I was in the
shower and found another half-naked model in my bed. This time it wasn’t my fault. The woman was Cam’s ex-girlfriend, Lauren, who, for some stupid reason, thought crawling into my bed would make him jealous. It didn’t. But it sure as shit pissed me off.
When I tried to explain to Evangeline, she basically told me to eat shit. I didn’t have it in me to chase after another woman, and it only made me realize I wasn’t ready for another relationship. And truthfully, Evangeline didn’t need to be chased. She bounced back just fine.
“I’m flying solo tonight,” I tell her.
“I thought you were seeing that nurse. What’s her name?”
“Mia.” I shrug. “I was.”
“What does that mean?”
I look over at her, perplexed. “You’re awfully chatty tonight. I thought you hated me.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t hate you, Liam.” I raise my brows, and she sighs. “Okay. I did hate you for a little while, but I don’t anymore. Besides, I’m very much in love with Alex.”
My gaze flicks toward the dance floor where Alex is dancing with Jay, but his attention is on us.
“You told him about us, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she admits. “He hates secrets.”
Can’t say I blame him considering he was Marcus’s best-kept secret up until a few months ago after someone leaked the news that he’s the illegitimate love child of one of the biggest rock stars in the world.
“He hates me.”
“No he doesn’t. Alex doesn’t hate anyone. He’s all peace, love, and light, that guy.”
I look over at her. “He’s good for you, Eva.”
“The best.” She smiles, her eyes shimmering with adoration as she watches her boyfriend dancing with his little sister. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I don’t know, but hold on to him. I mean… there aren’t many guys who can handle your level of bitch.” I laugh, dodging her fist.
“Asshole.” She snorts a laugh because she knows it’s true.
“I’m kidding.”
“No you’re not.”
Stepping out of the bathroom, I come face-to-face with an attractive blonde leaning against the opposite wall. A short gold-beaded dress clings to her petite body, exposing her tan legs. The plunging neckline shows off the curves of her breasts. Her face is familiar, but I can’t place her.
“Hey,” I drawl skeptically.
“Liam Mackenzie,” she purrs, pushing off the wall and stepping toward me.
“That’s me.” I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “And you are?”
“Gabbi.” She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my attention to her cleavage.
I raise my brows in question. “Have we met before? Are you a friend of Jay’s?”
“I’m a friend of Vanessa’s, and yes, we’ve met before.”
Ah. Gabbi. That’s why she looks familiar.
“I remember now.” I lean back with a foot propped against the opposite wall. “What are you doing here?”
“I was invited.” Gabbi drops a hand to her hip as a triumphant grin stretches across her face. “You know, I’ve been dreaming of the day I’d get to confront you, and here you are.”
“Here I am.” I stretch my arms out at my sides.
“I heard you saw her today.” She purses her lips.
I nod once. “I did.”
“How did it go?”
I snort. “How do you think it went?”
She lowers her gaze to the marble floor and kicks at nothing with her strappy heel-covered foot before meeting my eyes again. “She’s engaged.”
My jaw clenches. “I know.”
Shaking her head, she considers me for a moment. “I hate you for hurting her.”
“Believe me, no one hates me more than I hate myself.”
“Then why didn’t you fight for her?”
“Because letting her go was the right thing to do.”
She throws her hands out to her sides. “For who?”
“For everyone,” I snap, and she raises a brow.
After a beat, she narrows her eyes. “You’re lying.”
I shrug. “What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe show up for your divorce hearing for starters. Instead you sent a lawyer in your place like she was some bad business deal and not the woman you claimed to love.” She heaves out a breath. “I skipped class that day and drove down from Gainesville to be with her at the hearing. Vanessa was struggling with her decision, but she was too stubborn and mad to back down. She was hoping you would show up. And when you didn’t, she was heartbroken all over again. I told her to postpone it. She wouldn’t. She said if you really wanted her, you would’ve fought.”
My eyes close as I soak in every painful word like a knife to the heart. I wanted to be there.
“I thought for sure you would show up, kicking and screaming, and demand she call it off. Or make some grand gesture.”
“A what?”
“A grand gesture. You know, to prove to the woman you really love her.” She gives me a “duh” look. “Haven’t you ever watched a romance movie? Pretty Woman? Julia Roberts, Richard Gere?” She rolls her hand to urge me on like we’re playing a game of charades.
My brows pull together. The fuck is she talking about?
“Jesus, Liam.” She curls her fingers like she wants to strangle me. “Her favorite movie is The Princess Bride. It’s a classic. An epic love story. The dude died and was brought back to life for ‘true love.’” She makes air quotes for emphasis. “That’s a grand gesture.”
“I know what her favorite movie is,” I say. “I’m pretty sure dying isn’t a romantic gesture in real life.”
She snorts and waves me off. “Sorry, my imagination gets away from me sometimes. I’m all about the romance.” She lifts her chin, pushing her shoulders back. “I’m actually writing my first romance novel.” She presses her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know why I just told you that. I haven’t even told my friends or my family yet.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” I mimic zipping my lips closed.
The sound of heels clacking against the marble floors has us both turning our heads.
“Hey,” Mia says. Her eyes flick briefly to Gabbi, then back to me. “How about that dance?”
“Of course.” I push off the wall and turn my attention back to Gabbi. “Good to see you again, Gabbi.”
“Are you okay?” Mia asks, placing her hand on my thigh.
We’re seated in the back of the town car on the way to drop her off at her place before I head to the airport.
I look over at her. “Of course, why?”
“You’re acting different.” Her brows pinch. “Like you’re sad or upset.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
She removes her hand from my thigh and rests it in her lap. “Does it have anything to do with that woman you were talking to earlier?”
“Are you jealous?” I smirk.
“No.” She purses her lips and turns to stare out the window.
I reach over and give her thigh a light squeeze. “Liar,” I tease.
She turns to face me. “I’m not jealous. I was just curious. It looked like you two were in the middle of a very intense conversation when I walked up.”
“She’s my ex-wife’s best friend.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. Shit.
Mia’s mouth falls open, shock written all over her face. “You were married?”
Closing my eyes, I drop my head back and take a deep breath. We had such a good time together at the wedding.
“Yes,” I admit, lifting my head and turning my gaze to the window. “Vanessa was….” I swallow past the knot of emotion sitting at the base of my throat. “She was the love of my life. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in nearly five years, until today.”
She shifts in her seat beside me. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So what happ
ened? Did you bump into her or something?”
I shake my head. “I left a message on her voice mail last night after I saw her at Private Affair. She texted me this morning to meet her for coffee.”
“I thought you hated coffee.”
I snort. “I do.”
“So how’d it go?”
Why does everyone keep asking me that?
“Pretty much as you would imagine seeing your ex for the first time in five years,” I admit, turning in my seat to face her. “I realized I don’t particularly care for small talk.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “It was the most awkward conversation of my life. Everything felt forced and robotic and nothing like us. Oh, and she’s engaged to some dickhead named Jake.”
“I’m sorry, Liam.”
“Don’t be. It’s my fault she left in the first place.”
There’s a brief moment of silence before she asks, “Do you still love her?”
“Yes.”
Mia swallows hard and nods before lowering her gaze to her hands.
I reach for her hand. “Mia, I—”
“It’s fine.” She pulls her hand away.
I’ve learned over the years that “nothing” means something and “fine” means anything but.
Silence fills the space between us until the car rolls to a stop in front of Mia’s apartment building. She scrambles for the handle and shoves open the passenger door before the driver has a chance to put it in Park.
Sighing, I ask the driver to give me a few minutes before climbing out of the back seat to chase after her.
“Mia, wait,” I call out as she digs through her small clutch for her keys. Her shoulders drop on a sigh as she turns to me, annoyance and hurt etched on her pretty face.
“I said it’s fine, Liam,” she says, sounding deflated. “Please just go.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I say, “Clearly you’re upset. Tell me why.”
“Ugh. It’s not you, it’s me.”
A beat passes, and we both laugh.
“That’s supposed to be my line,” I joke.
“Ass.” She smacks me playfully on the chest.