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The earlier crowd had dispersed, leaving the café empty save for us and two baristas. My voice traveled the length of the small space, but the staff studiously avoided looking our way.

Perhaps they were too scared of Vuk, whose jaw had tensed so much I was surprised his teeth didn’t crack.

Noted.

That was it. No pushback, nothing else to be said.

My brief burst of indignation popped. “Thank you.” Something passed through my chest that I couldn’t name. It was tight and heavy, but it was gone so quickly I paid it no mind.

I searched for a new topic of conversation. “The bachelor party is next weekend. Have you figured out what you’re doing yet?”

Yes.

“Okay. So what’s the big plan?”

This is the second time you’ve asked me about the bachelor party.Vuk finally took a sip of his coffee.You say I’m obsessed. Maybe I’m not the only one.

Blood rose to my neck and chest. “I am not obsessed. I’d hardly call one repeat questionobsessed.”

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

“Keep it up. Iwilltake off my heels, and Iwillstab you with them,” I threatened.

Vuk leaned back and stretched like I’d offered him a day at the spa.What if I said there’ll be strippers at the party?His lazy stare didn’t lose any of its original sting. He could pierce armor with those eyes.Would you be upset?

I couldn’t care less. I’d only asked about the bachelor party because it was the first thing that popped up in my head, but it was hard to summon any real interest in Jordan’s stag night activities.

When we made our arrangement, we’d agreed that the other person could do what they wanted with whomever they wanted as long as they were discreet. Ironically, neither of us would take advantage of that loophole.

Jordan wasn’t interested in romantic relationships with anyone ever, and I was too paranoid for an affair, even one sanctioned by my husband. I didn’t trust any potential lover to keep his mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was scandal or for Jordan to be humiliated.

Of course, I couldn’t tell Vuk any of that.

“It’s entertainment. It doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “Everyone has strippers at their bachelor party, and I trust Jordan won’t cross the line. If he does, I’m sure you’ll rein him back in. That’s what the best man is for.”

A scowl fell over Vuk’s face. He appeared deeply displeased at the prospect of playing babysitter.

It occurred to me then that Jordan wouldn’t be the only one entertaining strippers. Vuk would be there too.

The tight feeling returned, this time for an entirely different reason.

He didn’t strike me as a lap dance type of guy, but as the best man, he was expected to participate in the festivities. Besides, how well did I really know him? He could be a regular at the Vermilion Lounge, the city’s most high-end strip club, for all I knew.

An image of Vuk sitting in a dark VIP room while a busty dancer ground against him flashed through my mind.

The tea’s aftertaste turned sour, and I quickly pushed the cup away.

Vuk watched me quietly.If you were my fiancée, I wouldn’t look at another woman. Entertainment or not.

Somewhere in my lungs, a bubble of oxygen collapsed.

If you were my fiancée…

The sentiment brushed over my skin, soft yet rough.

I’d never heard Vuk speak. Few people had.

According to Jordan, Vuk stopped talking verbally to most people after an undisclosed incident in his past. But the shock of his words was so potent he might as well have touched his mouth to my ear and poured those twenty-three syllables straight into my bloodstream.