Wicked Wedding

by Bennett, Sawyer

  I grit my teeth and remain silent, but I also know deep down that this conversation needs to be had. Dane and Avril only have so much patience with me. After around two long months of me being withdrawn, I figure it’s their due to have it out with me.

  Avril has certainly tried. She’s not as forceful as Dane, but she’s tried to tempt me with lunch or drinks after work, and I have come up with every excuse in the book to avoid her. She’s incredibly worried, I know, and that does weigh a little heavy on my conscience.

  Dane is obviously worried, too, but he’s a dude and way tougher than sweet Avril. He can take my surly attitude and the absence of my friendship for a while.

  Dane’s stride is quick, and there’s no lighthearted banter as would normally occur between us. I follow him out of the Caterva building, slightly surprised we’re not taking his car. I follow blindly, not really paying attention to where we’re going, but expecting one of the high-end restaurants where he’ll demand a private table away from prying ears and eyes so he can lay into me about my “attitude” of late.

  Instead, and only a few blocks later, he comes to a stop outside the forty-four-story building that houses the Wicked Horse at the very top.

  My jaw drops as he turns to face me. “We’re going inside. I’m going to have lunch and a nice drink in The Apartment. You’re going to fuck your nuts dry, and we’re not leaving until Brynne Adams is nothing but a distant memory to you. And when you think your balls are depleted, I’m going to have another drink, maybe play a game of poker, and you’re going to fucking get your rocks off again. Are we understood?”

  My body flushes with heat—not from the idea of getting laid in a sex club, but with anger. “Are you fucking crazy, Dane?”

  “No, but you are,” he says with a sneer as he leans into my space. “It’s abundantly clear you’re not going to do a damn thing to get Brynne back, nor attempt to move forward, so I’m taking it upon myself as your best friend—and your future best man at a wedding you’ll one day have—to get you out of this funk. You won’t talk to me or Avril, and I’m tired of my wife crying because she’s worried about you. So I’m damn well going to make sure that before you go to sleep at night, you make a concrete decision to get the fuck on with your life and leave Brynne and all her shit in the past. You deserve better than her.”

  More heat washes through me and I lean into him, taking two steps and backing him up into the side of the building. “There isn’t anyone better than Brynne for me, you motherfucker.”

  “Then why in the hell are you moping around and not doing something about it?” he asks calmly, and it knocks the wind right out of my sails.

  Blowing out a frustrated exhale, I deflate and rest my back on the wall beside him. “Because… I’m not sure that’s really true. About Brynne being the best for me.”

  “You’re finally talking,” he says while beaming in relief at me. “I’m going to assume the Wicked Horse is of no interest to you. Since you’re seemingly willing to blab your feelings to me, let’s go get some lunch.”

  “You’re such an asshole,” I mutter, but inside there’s a tiny kernel of joy that Dane is forcing me to confront this issue. “But let’s go get some lunch and hash it out.”

  We end up going to one of our favorite Italian restaurants just a few blocks back toward Caterva, and Dane orders a bottle of wine to ensure I don’t clam up on him.

  After we break open a loaf of crusty bread to dip in seasoned olive oil, I break the ice by asking the first question. “Avril’s been crying over me?”

  “She feels terribly guilty about all of this,” Dane says. I wasn’t expecting that, and it makes me feel like shit.

  “But why?”

  “Because she thinks she influenced you not to tell Brynne about us,” he says as he swirls his bread in the oil.

  I can’t really argue against that, but I deny it anyway. “That was ultimately my decision. Besides, even if I had told her up front, I’d still be in the same place right now.”

  Dane waves his bread. “Neither here nor there. What really matters is what are you going to do about it now?”

  “Not sure I should do anything,” I say glumly, ignoring the bread and taking a large sip of wine. “As horrible as I feel about hurting Brynne like that, I’m also a little pissed at her.”

  “For being so shortsighted?” he guesses.

  “And judgmental,” I add. “I’m pissed because she made me feel ashamed of something I don’t think I should feel ashamed of. I don’t want what we had—what we all did together as mature consenting adults—to seem like a dirty secret or something.”

  Dane doesn’t tell me he agrees with me, because he doesn’t need to. I know how he feels about the subject. Instead, he jumps right into problem-solving. “What if Brynne knows she’s wrong about all that?”

  “What makes you think that?” I ask with interest, because that’s about the only way it could ever work between us.

  If Brynne were truly okay with knowing that part of my past, and she was accepting of it.

  “I don’t think that,” he says with a shrug. “She might be praying every night to save you from eternal damnation or something, for all I know.”

  “Gee, that makes me feel loads better.”

  “Okay, why hasn’t she returned the final paperwork for the annulment to you?” he demands. “Avril said you mailed it off to her. It’s been almost two months, and she hasn’t returned it. What in the hell does that say to you?”

  “That it got lost in the mail?” I reply blandly, although I’ve been wondering why she hasn’t pushed forward with the annulment. I suppose I haven’t really done anything about it, since I might have been holding on to the last vestige of hope remaining that perhaps we could make it work.

  Dane ignores my last comment. “I’m just saying there’s a chance she regrets what she did and what she said, but you’ll never know if that’s true if you just sit on your ass and do nothing about it. So you need to reach out and talk to her about it.”

  I’m shaking my head in denial before he can even finish the sentiment. “I tried. For two weeks after she left, I tried incessantly to get her to talk to me. She wouldn’t respond. Wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  “And that’s probably an indication of how badly she was hurt,” Dane throws at me. “But dude… it’s been two months. A lot can change in that time period. I think you should try at least one more time.”

  Again, I shake my head. “I’m just not feeling it, man.”

  “Bullshit,” he rebukes. “You’re being a chicken shit.”

  “No,” I correct, speaking to him like he’s a five-year-old. “I’m being stubborn and holding on to some anger I still have toward her. For making me feel like shit about what the three of us did. And if I’m the one to go after her, to push at fixing this relationship, then I feel like I’m letting you and Avril down.”

  Dane stares blankly at me a moment before his head drops back and he starts laughing hysterically. Everyone in the restaurant goes quiet as all eyes swing toward us, and it causes me to slink lower into my chair.

  “Dude… stop fucking crazy laughing. It’s embarrassing.”

  “You’re embarrassing,” he retorts while still chuckling. “Don’t you think Avril and I had to deal with this same shit once we realized we were in love with each other?”

  My brow furrows. I’m totally perplexed.

  With a sage smile, Dane leans across the table. His voice is low but filled with wisdom. “Avril felt guilty for being intimate with you. I felt guilty for it, too. It was a ton of emotional shit to process, and it called a lot of things into doubt. Like was our friendship true… and what did it say about me as a man that I let you fuck the woman I loved? And Avril was ashamed that she might have led you on, maybe broken your heart—”

  “She didn’t,” I cut in. “She knows that. We’ve talked about it.”

  “Exactly,” Dane says with an incline of his head. “You talked those th
ings out. Both of you processed the emotions, and now you are both totally secure with everything that happened. Avril and I had to do the same thing with each other. We had to talk about those feelings with each other. It was the only way to have peace with what we did.”

  “But you and I never did that,” I point out, now really curious about how he feels about what happened. I just assumed things were cool.

  Dane smirks. “Dude… I am secure enough in how my wife feels about me that I have no guilt or jealousies where you are—or were—concerned. I will never forget those times together. They were hot as fuck, and I know you brought pleasure to Avril. All I want is for her to be happy and satisfied, and she was during that time period.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the guy with the secure ego?” I mutter.

  “You’re the same guy,” he replies softly, but it impacts me just the same.

  I blink in surprise. “What?”

  “You’re not the type of man to sit around with these doubts. Sure, you may have let Brynne’s reaction fuck with your mind a little, but really, Drew… look me in the face and tell me if you sincerely believe that what you did with me and Avril was wrong?”

  I don’t even have to think about it. The answer pops right out of my mouth. “No. It wasn’t wrong. In fact, for that time in our lives, it was very right.”

  “Now… let me ask you another question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why did you fall in love with Brynne?” he asks.

  Again, I don’t have to think about it. “Because everything about her clicked with me. From the moment she got in my car, I knew she had an adventurous spirit. From the first time we were together, I’d never known such perfection in the bed. And because when she had every reason to shy away from the opportunity to be with me, she put her faith in me and that led me to believe it was real.”

  “I’d posit it’s very real between you two and that with a little bit of effort, you can get back on track with that. I know you think she’s being judgmental, but I sort of think she was just so shocked she reacted the only way she knew how. I’m going to bet she doesn’t quite feel that same way anymore.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know that,” I say with a wry smile, ready to start this entire argument all over again because I’m not convinced.

  “Sort of the way I couldn’t possibly know we could create a machine that would revolutionize blood testing for the entire world?”

  My mouth snaps shut.

  That’s kind of impossible to argue with.

  CHAPTER 22

  Brynne

  “I’m here to see Avril Hawthorne,” I announce to the Caterva receptionist. I clasp my hands tight to prevent them from shaking.

  The woman gives me a smile that’s neither warm nor icy, but rather just accommodating. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I don’t,” I reply nervously.

  “I’m sorry,” she replies genially. “But you would need an appointment to see Mrs. Hawthorne. She is a very busy woman. I can pull her calendar up to see when I can work you in, if you like?”

  I decline the offer and turn my back on her, not about to be deterred, but also not needing to pull this poor receptionist into my dramatics.

  Pulling my phone from my purse, I search Avril’s name in my contacts and hit send. She answers on the third ring, and the surprise in her voice is not all that surprising to me. “Brynne? Is that you?”

  “Hey,” I say softly so the receptionist can’t hear me. “Listen… I’m in your lobby. I know it’s really shitty to just show up like this, but—”

  “I’ll be right there,” she replies, then disconnects the call.

  I turn back to the receptionist, who is surveying me expectantly.

  “Um… I just called Mrs. Hawthorne,” I explain with my face flushing hot. “She’s coming.”

  The receptionist blanches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a personal friend. If I had, I would have buzzed her office—”

  “I’m not,” I reply guiltily. “I… just… well, we sort of know each other.”

  Confusion causes the receptionist’s face to pucker, and I’m saved from any future embarrassment by a door opening and Avril walking through.

  She’s beautiful as ever, but such a contrast to when I last saw her in cutoff shorts and a slouchy t-shirt. A classic, navy blue suit perfectly fits her body. I can almost guarantee she had the suit custom made. Her hair is in a chignon twist, and she looks every bit the corporate executive.

  Avril approaches, takes me by the elbow, and leads me as far away from the receptionist as we can get in the far corner of the lobby. “Andrew’s not here,” she says in a brusque whisper that’s not welcoming at all.

  “I came to see you, not Andrew,” I reply as I tuck some of my hair behind my ear. A totally nervous gesture.

  Avril draws up to her full height. “Well, I don’t think I should be involved in this—whatever this is…”

  Holding my hand up to stop her, I start with an apology. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to drag you into anything. I came here to see Andrew, but I’ve been sitting in the parking lot for a few hours trying to work up the nerve to come in. But I’m terrified, and well… I thought maybe I could just talk with you for a few minutes to try to determine how bad I might have fucked things up with him.”

  She regards me almost haughtily, but definitely with apprising interest. Finally, she says, “Let’s go to my office.”

  I don’t argue, grateful she’s giving me the time of day. She’s an incredibly important woman with a lot more on her mind than assuaging my guilt or helping to build up my self-esteem.

  When she has me seated in a guest chair across from her desk, and accepted my refusal for coffee or tea, she sits in her chair and crosses her legs.

  “I’m sorry I never responded to your numerous attempts to contact me,” I begin, deciding to start by being truthful and saying what’s truly in my heart.

  It doesn’t warm her in the slightest, and her tone is frosty when she replies, “I am aware you don’t think all that highly of me, so I’m not surprised.”

  “That’s not true,” I hasten to assure her, but her cocked eyebrow puts me in my place. “Okay… I did think bad things at first, but that really didn’t last long. I wasn’t mad about what you… um… well, what I mean to say is that I wasn’t angry over the choices the three of you made. I mean, what people do in the privacy of—”

  “Let’s just lay it out on the table, Brynne,” Avril says as she leans forward and clasps her hands together on the desk. Her tone is sharp and professional. “I had a consensual sexual relationship with both Dane and Andrew. Sometimes, all three of us were together in the same bed. Other times, I was with them individually. What really matters is I don’t care what you think of me personally. I’m confident in my decisions, and I don’t have a single regret. So let’s just put that part behind us, and you can tell me what you’re doing here.”

  Let’s just say I’ve never been more firmly put in my place, and while I’m mortified over having to discuss any of this, I graciously accept her terms. “Okay. Thank you for saying that. And thank you for giving me your time, when I’m quite aware I’m not deserving of it.”

  My words only get a tight, forced smile from her.

  “I owe you, Dane, and Andrew an apology. Since you’re sitting here with me now, I’ll start with you. I had no right to judge what the three of you chose to do with each other. I let my own firsthand experiences color my opinions, and I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “You didn’t,” she says primly, but I’m thankful her voice seems a tad warmer. “My concerns center solely on Andrew, which was the only reason I tried contacting you.”

  “I know,” I reply softly, the guilt and shame I’ve been feeling making my hands curl into tight claws around each other. “And I’m sorry I didn’t even give you the courtesy of a reply.”

  I lift my head, lock my eyes on her. “It to
ok me a while to process everything in my head. And please know… it was all in my head. My heart always belonged to Andrew. Still does if he’ll have it, but I was really—for lack of a better term—just really fucked up over that video I saw.”

  For all of Avril’s tough words on owning her prior lifestyle with her two best friends, her cheeks turn a little pink at the reminder I saw her in action while she took two men at once. “Given what you went through with Jesse and Tara, I imagine it was not easy to accept Andrew knew a little something about threesomes.”

  I tap the side of my head. “It wasn’t easy up here. The hurt to my heart had nothing to do with what had physically gone on. It was that he didn’t tell me, and that was a betrayal to me.”

  “He knows that,” Avril says, this time her voice softening completely as she turns into Andrew’s champion once more. “And he’s so very sorry.”

  I hold my hand up. “I know that. I believe that. I don’t need you telling me that on his behalf.”

  “So you’re going to talk to him?” she asks hesitantly.

  “If he’ll talk to me,” I hedge, hoping this is where she’ll give me some insight into how he’s been doing.

  Avril knows I’m fishing. I can tell by the expression on her face. She has every reason to make me suffer a bit for hurting her best friend, but she doesn’t even go there. “He loves you. He misses you. You hurt him greatly, but Andrew is kind and forgiving. Where I think you really messed up and where you really need to focus—”

  “Don’t,” I blurt out, both hands facing palm out to ward her words off. “Don’t tell me what I need to do or say to him. I need to figure this out myself. I mean… I think I have it figured out. I think I know exactly how I hurt Andrew, and I need to be the one to fix it all by myself. What I really just wanted to know from you was if he had written me off completely or if I might have a chance.”