Angel sneered a little before popping on her fake smile again, and I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest at his words. Shrugging out from his grasp, I cleared my throat and pointed to the table. “Are we eating first, Angel? Or do you need any help getting everyone rallied for the walk-through?”
“Well aren’t you a peach,” she said, and it was the first time I noted a hint of twang in her voice. “We’ll practice first, that way they have a little more time to finish the food. But don’t worry, I got this.” She winked up at Jamie and then put two delicate fingers between her lips and produced the loudest wolf whistle I’d ever heard. “People!”
The room stopped bustling as soon as she yelled, and my eyes widened along with Sylvia’s.
“Let’s do one quick walk-through outside before we sit down to eat. And I do mean quick. I also mean once, so pay attention to Bailey and then we’ll have dinner and gifts.” She turned to a short, plump woman in dress slacks and a light pink polo then, who I assumed was Bailey. She clapped her hands together and started ushering us all to our positions, and I stopped by my purse to pop two ibuprofen before making my way outside.
So far, it was just as bad as I thought it’d be.
My headache turned out not to be my biggest issue. In fact, it was nausea, and it hit me as soon as I saw the look on Jamie’s face when Angel fake-walked down the aisle to him. Her bridesmaids were practically swooning out of their dresses because Jamie completely stole the show. He looked at her exactly like he should — like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have her, like there was no one else in the world for him.
I felt so sick by the time we sat down to eat that it was physically impossible to even try. So, I pushed the food around on my plate as much as I could and took microscopic bites between conversation with Sylvia and Jamie’s parents. His older sister wouldn’t be in until the day of the wedding, but I was actually okay with it because the four of us were cracking each other up at our end of the table. It felt sort of split, the families, instead of united by a marriage. Jamie sat on the other end with Angel, her family, and the bridesmaids, while I sat with his family on my left and the groomsmen across from us.
Jamie was clearly the life of the party at the other end, and I could tell just in those two short hours that Angel’s family was smitten with him. Everyone was. Jamie was charming, he always had been, and I was pretty sure he could woo the panties off a nun if he really put his mind to it.
That didn’t make me feel any better, though.
Still, from time to time, when my eyes would skirt their way to that end of the table, I’d find his staring right back at me. He watched me as he tipped back his small tumbler of whiskey, poured neat. He found me when everyone laughed around him, as if I was what was grounding him to the room, to the present moment. Every time he looked at me, my stomach reacted, and I hated myself for it.
I didn’t know how to be Jamie’s friend. That was clear now more than ever.
“Alright, you rowdy bunch, simmer down,” Jamie said, standing with his whiskey firmly in hand. “The girls need to get to the airport, but before they go, we have a few gifts we’d like to give out.”
Angel stood with him then, and they held each other close as the bridesmaids distributed gifts to the parents and siblings. They were classic — delicate necklaces for the moms, custom money holders for the dads, and small personalized gifts for each sibling. It was nice watching Jamie’s parents open their gifts, especially seeing the tears well in Wesley’s eyes as he clapped Jamie hard on the back in a man hug.
“Of course, we couldn’t forget about our bridal party!” Angel added, her short blonde hair bouncing a little as she ducked under the table and retrieved additional gifts. She passed them down the table, and Sylvia handed me mine just as everyone else started tearing into their gifts.
For a moment I just watched them. I was nervous to open mine for some reason. Maybe because this was the first time I’d ever received a gift from Jamie, even if it was an obligatory one, or maybe because I was the only girl in his bridal party. When I saw the guys all pull out leather flasks with their names etched into the side, I breathed a sigh of relief. That was a neutral gift, one he could easily get for me.
I reached into the lavender bag that matched the wedding colors Angel had picked out and sifted through the tissue paper, but my hands found something hard and shaped like a hockey disc. I frowned, pulling it into my lap as everyone else continued to buzz about their own gifts. I looked up, but no one was looking at me.
Except Jamie.
He was smirking, waiting for me to see what he’d gotten me, and the nerves were instantly back because it damn sure wasn’t a flask. There was a card stuck to the disc object that was still wrapped in tissue paper.
Thanks for always knowing exactly what I need. I couldn’t do this without you. — Jamie
My cheeks flushed, and I didn’t chance another look to see if Jamie was still watching me. Carefully, I unfolded the tissue paper, and then, I snort-laughed.
Everyone’s necks snapped in synchronicity, and once again, all attention was on me — exactly where I didn’t want it at the moment, because I couldn’t stop laughing. Tears glossed my eyes and I knew my face must have been the reddest shade as I tried to find my breath. Everyone was staring at me, but I was only looking at Jamie.
“What? What is it?” Impatient, Sylvia snatched the gift from my hands, breaking my eye contact with Jamie. She frowned. “Devil Cat Board Wax,” she read, and I lost myself in another fit of giggles. This time, Jamie cracked up, too.
And the entire room turned to look at him.
He bent at the waist, holding up his hand not holding whiskey. “Sorry, inside joke.”
Angel’s eyes jetted to me then, and I almost felt my skin melt off my face from her glare. I probably should have reacted in a mature way by putting the gift away and turning the attention on her somehow, but in that moment, I didn’t care what she thought. I smiled, caught Jamie’s eyes once more, then Sylvia handed the wax back to me and I tucked it away.
In that moment, I realized he was still my Jamie — even if just a little bit.
When dinner was wrapped, the girls hugged and kissed everyone goodbye before making their way to the airport. The excitement radiated off them, and Jamie didn’t seem nervous in the slightest that his bride-to-be was jetting off to one of the top party cities in the nation for a two-night bender before their big day.
Angel, on the other hand, had no problem showcasing her insecurity. Jamie was gathered where his parents and I had set up camp when she came rushing over, throwing her arms around him and kissing him in a way I was sure Wesley and Rhonda could have lived forever without seeing. She made sure I saw her tongue against his, her hands in his hair, his on the small of her back. When her eyes popped open, they were still kissing, and she narrowed them at me before pulling back.
“I’ll miss you,” she cooed, fixing his shirt. “Behave, okay?”
“Always.” Jamie kissed her again, his a little more parent-friendly, and Angel gave me one last pointed look before joining her bridesmaids. They hooted and hollered as they left the room and then the two families set to work gathering up anything left behind.
As soon as she left, I could breathe a little easier. My hands found my ribs and I forced a breath against the tight fabric of my dress.
“You good?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah, just ready to get out of this dress,” I said without thinking. I meant it exactly as I said it — I was ready for zipperless pants and a wireless bra — but when I turned to face him with a smile, there was that whiskey burn behind his irises.
“We should go out. The guys all have work tomorrow, but I took off. And it’s early,” he said, checking his watch. It wasn’t even six yet, but I knew for sure that the last thing I should do is go out with Jamie alone.
“I’m actually still pretty beat,” I whispered, clearing my throat to find a stronger voice for my next state
ment. “Probably going to stop by and see a few friends and then turn in early.”
Jamie’s face fell. “Oh, yeah. Okay.” He shrugged his hands into his pockets and nodded to the gift bag hanging from my wrist. “So, you like the gift?”
I grinned then. “You’re such an ass. Rory would have liked you.”
He laughed, tucked me under his arm, and we walked out together. I turned down his offer for a ride back to the hotel, insisting he stay behind with his family and I’d catch a cab. I had lied, I didn’t have any stops to make, anyone to see, and I went straight back to the hotel. I took a long, hot shower, dressed more comfortably, and kicked back on the bed with an audible sigh.
Flicking the television on, I debated calling River, but thought better of it. After an hour of watching Family Guy, I turned the TV off again and pushed a breath through flat lips.
It was nine o’clock.
On a Friday.
“This is pathetic,” I murmured, hopping off the bed and sliding into my sandals. I didn’t bother putting on makeup or changing, just grabbed my hotel key and purse and made my way downstairs.
I was suddenly craving whiskey.
• • •
Thank God for Doubletree.
Those were the words I whispered under my breath as I munched on a free, hot cookie and drank Crown Royal black on the rocks at the hotel bar. I’d struck up a casual conversation with the bartender, Beuford, but for the most part I just sipped and snacked, watching the sports highlights on the television above the liquor bottles. I had no idea what any of it meant, the extent of my sports experience being the games I watched in high school and the four Pirate games I’d managed to make it to with the crew from work. Even then, I had no idea what was going on — I just cheered and booed along with everyone else.
It might have only been a touch less pathetic than lying in my hotel bed, but I felt good about my decision to mosey down to the bar. There were a few others around me, one man about my age at the end of the bar who was still dressed in business attire with a conference name tag hanging around his neck, two older couples conversing at a table behind me in the cushioned seating area, and from time to time, families would breeze past on their way out or to the pool. Just having the noise and other people around me made me feel better, and truthfully, it was about all the social interaction I could handle at that point.
The day had been hard.
I knew going into the weekend that it would be, but seeing Jamie with Angel had kicked me in the groin harder than I thought it would. It was easy to repeat the words to myself in a bathtub miles away — Jamie is getting married — but actually seeing him with his fiancé was a completely different story. It burned, it seared, it scarred.
Sighing, I took a long pull from my glass and ate the last of my cookie, brushing my fingers off just as the seat beside me was pulled out.
“That’s more like it,” Jamie said, and I paused mid-chew with the cookie still in my mouth. He eyed my glass, lowering down on the stool and waving a finger at the bartender. “I saw you nursing a glass of water at the rehearsal dinner.”
I dry-swallowed the rest of the cookie and lifted my glass. “Yeah well, I wasn’t in the mood to drink then.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I’m sure you could guess.”
The bartender placed a napkin in front of Jamie and he ordered his own Crown Black, poured neat, after confirming that’s what I had in my glass. He took the first sip and sighed.
“You know, I’d like to say I’m surprised to see you here, but I guess I shouldn’t be, huh?”
He shrugged. “You act like I don’t know you.” His hand was still wrapped loosely around his glass as he angled himself toward me. “I figured you’d get back here, realize it was early and you can’t sleep after all, and end up here. I didn’t know for sure,” he added. “But I guess tonight, luck was on my side.”
I picked up my glass and twirled it in my wrist, shifting the ice. “Guess so.”
Jamie was staring at me in that way he always did, and for the first time in my life I wished he’d stop. “You’re not okay, are you.” It was a question, but he said it as a statement. “With all of this, I mean.”
“I’m fine.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the basketball highlights on the screen before facing me again. “You don’t have to do this, okay? You can leave, I can—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie,” I cut him off, forcing the most genuine smile I could muster. “What are you going to do? Refund me for the dress hanging in my room? For the flight here and back? Don’t be dumb. Plus, I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I love you,” my voice cut off a little at the end of that profession, but I smoothed it over. “I want to be here. It’s hard, and I’m always honest with you so I won’t deny that, but I don’t want to leave.”
It wasn’t a lie. Even if he told me I could leave and he’d pay me back for everything, I wouldn’t. It hurt to be here, but it would hurt worse not to be — to be miles away wondering what he looked like, how they were together, what song they danced to, what color the stupid cake was. It was a sick sort of torture in a way, but I wanted to be with him — even if I couldn’t be with him.
“Are you sure?” His brows bent and I reached out, squeezing his forearm.
“I’m sure.” His eyes fell to my hand, and I retracted it, grabbing my drink again. Being around Jamie without being able to touch him was like drinking decaf coffee. It didn’t satisfy. The buzz was within reach, yet completely unattainable at the same time. “Besides, you’ll pay me back. One day I’ll be the one getting married, and I’ll expect you to be there.”
He was still staring at his arm where my hand had been, and his jaw ticked a little then. He reached for his own drink, but his eyes stayed down. “I’m happy. I love her, B. I really do.”
The knife twisted low, but I swallowed back the gasp. “I know.”
“But I still love you, too.” He lifted his eyes to mine then. “I don’t know if that will ever change.”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant, because I knew. I felt it in everything that I was. Jamie Shaw was a part of me, and he would be forever. “I hope it doesn’t.”
He smiled, tentatively reaching his hand out to touch my cheek. I leaned into his palm and we both exhaled together, laughing softly.
“Ugh,” Jamie said, thumbing my cheek bone before dropping his hand and shaking out his shoulders. “Okay, enough with the heavy. Catch me up on everything. How’s work? Still kicking ass? Randall planning your next promotion?”
The conversation was easy from there. I filled him in on my life and he did the same for his. I wasn’t shocked to hear his dad was already talking about Jamie’s plan to partner at the firm, and my heart swelled with pride before a hard pinch hit it at the thought that Jamie was exactly where he always wanted to be. He was working at the firm, getting married, on his way to kids. It was all happening. I wasn’t a part of it, and yet I was. We had always existed in the in-between, and I guessed we always would.
We laughed a lot that night, bullshitting and reminiscing on times past. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, in about seven creative ways, and I skirted the question each time, leaving whatever was happening between River and me completely off the table. We took what we needed from each other and that was all. The truth was, I didn’t have time for a boyfriend — and I was okay with walking alone for a while.
“I guess I should probably let you sleep,” Jamie said as I yawned, my third glass of whiskey now empty. He checked his watch and then studied me again, biting his lower lip. “You know, we should go surfing tomorrow.”
“What?”
He nodded. “I mean, why not? We don’t have any plans until the bachelor party tomorrow. The guys have to go pick up their tuxes after work and I’ll be bored out of my mind and probably make myself sick with nerves if I’m alone all day.”
“I think you’re forgetting one key
issue,” I said, pausing to see if he’d fill in the blanks. When he didn’t, I sighed. “I don’t have a board anymore, remember?” Tucking my hands under my thighs against the leather barstool, I shrugged. “Mom sold everything when she and Wayne bought that boat — including my old lime green board.”
“I know.”
Jamie was just staring at me, goofy smile and glossy whiskey eyes. I quirked a brow. “Okay… so then you know I don’t have a board for us to go surfing tomorrow. Unless I rent one, which sounds awful.”
“You don’t have to rent. You have a board.”
He stood then, pulling out enough cash to pay for both of our tabs. I went to stop him, but my mind was too busy trying to wrap itself around what he was saying. “I don’t understand.”
He grabbed my wrists, tugging me forward off the barstool and wrapping me in a hug. He rested his chin on my head for a second, then pulled back with his hands still on my arms. “You didn’t honestly think I’d let your mom sell your board to some random, did you?”
My mouth fell open, but Jamie didn’t seem fazed at all, just tucked his wallet back in his pocket with an easy smile. “You bought my board?”
“Of course I did.” He winked, and it took every last ounce of self-control I had to stop myself from springing forward. I wanted to kiss him, hard. I wanted him in my bed, his hands on me, my lips on him. No one loved me like Jamie did, and I hadn’t yearned for one last night with him until that exact moment.
But he backed away, still facing me, taking three long strides with a cocky grin in place before he turned and called over his shoulder. “Pick you up at seven.”
Chapter Nineteen
Clean
I WAS FINALLY HOME.
Jamie sat on his board beside me, both of us straddling and waiting for the next wave. It was early, the sun struggling to rise in front of us, and the water was still chilly from the winter, but it was home. I traced the black designs on my board, stomach warm at the fact that Jamie had bought it from my mom. He’d stored it, kept it just in case I came back home. It seemed so little, but said so much.
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