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Chapter Fifteen

Jordan

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for my best friend.

This is what Austen wants, and I’m glad he’s getting it.

Only, deep down, I know as well as he does it isn’t exactly what he wants—but that’s his business.

I’ll support him no matter what he does.

If this is the route he’s choosing to go, I won’t stop him.

Sometimes we have to make decisions that we don’t want to make and have to do things that don’t feel right because we need to survive in this cruel fucking world.

I can’t say I’d do any differently if I were Austen.

Savannah isn’t so bad, anyway. She’s hot, a little bitchy and a lot needy, but there are worse people out there. They’ve been together this long, and if they haven’t killed each other yet, I think they’ll be just fine .

With all that said, I think all this wedding stuff is stupid.

Especially the rehearsal dinner, because what the fuck are we actually rehearsing?

Nothing. It’s just a dinner, another reason to spend money.

We already have all the details on the wedding, so we’re going to this dinner to see each other again.

Which is dumb. Half of these people I see all the time and the other half I don’t want to see ever again.

Namely, Alex. But here I fucking am, standing outside the restaurant and trying to come up with an excuse to not go in.

I could say my ride got into an accident and I can’t make it.

Someone would probably offer to pick me up though, so I don’t think that excuse will actually work.

Lucky fucking Cameron and his sudden need to be out of the country for some model thing means he won’t be here.

He’s the best man. If his avoidance isn’t loud and clear to what happened with him and Austen in Vegas, I don’t know what is.

It’s funny that Austen thinks we all don’t know something happened, that he’s just pretending everything is normal.

We’re not that fucking stupid, and I’m offended he’s acting like we are.

“Hey, fucker.” I look up and see Paul walking toward me.

“Hey.”

“There a reason you’re standing out here all alone?”

“Just getting some air. ”

“Right,” he says with a slow nod.

“We can go in,” I offer, not wanting him to ask me questions about things I don’t want to answer.

Alex is already in there. Austen let us know his family would be there early, in case we wanted to get here early too.

I didn’t have the balls to tell him I didn’t want to go at all.

I doubt he would have cared, now that I think about it.

He’s dealing with enough shit. Me not showing is the least of his concerns.

I pull open the door and let Paul walk in first, then go after him. I haven’t seen anyone else come or go since I’ve been outside, so I have no idea if we’re the last two to show.

Turns out, we are.

Fucking great.

It’s all eyes on us as we’re led over to the table, but it’s one particular set of eyes that are burning holes into me. Alex.

I refuse to look at him, and I’m pissed when I see the only two seats left are across from him. At least if I’d sat beside him, I wouldn’t have to worry about him looking at me.

“So glad you could make it,” Austen says with a smile.

Paul and I take our seats as everyone gives their hellos and we return them with waves and head nods.

It’s always weird when you walk into a group of people like this.

Are we supposed to say hi to everyone individually or what?

My mother is a fucking heathen and raised me the same way.

Thankfully, I had enough sense to take the manners I was taught in school seriously.

I learned social cues from peers, because I liked the way their interactions went better than the ones with my mother.

She was always yelling at people and people were always yelling at her.

They’d give her dirty looks and make rude remarks.

When I acted like her, they did the same to me.

But when I acted like the other kids in school, people were nice. I like it better when they’re nice.

As expected, dinner is boring as hell. I don’t say much, and listen to everyone else’s conversations.

Savannah’s parents gush over her, Austen’s parents fuss over their new house, the guys talk football.

The only person I don’t pay attention to is Alex.

He seems off today, and it’s weird. He’s quiet, which isn’t like him.

Though, I guess when he’s around his parents, he would be on his best behavior.

I’m sure they don’t approve of his extracurricular activities or any of his lifestyle, honestly.

I can remember them fighting quite a bit when I was younger, when I’d hang out over Austen’s.

I didn’t pay much attention then, but I understand it now.

He’s so different from Austen it’s not even funny, and they fuss over him enough, so I can’t imagine what they have to say about Alex.

I feel his eyes on me most of the night, though. Whenever I look at him, he looks away, as if he doesn’t want to get caught.

I don’t know what he wants from me, but whatever it is, I can’t give it to him. No matter how badly he wants it. Hell, even if I actually wanted it, it won’t work. It’ll never happen. The sooner he realizes that, the better it’ll be.

What happened in Vegas was a fucking mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened at all. Maybe he needs a reminder of that.

When dinner is done and everyone is making their way out, most of Austen’s family mingling and chatting with the bride and groom, Alex finally makes his exit. I take my opportunity. I grip his arm and gesture for him to follow me down the hall. Of course he does. We end up in an empty ballroom.

“What is going on with you?” I ask.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, giving me a tired look. “Nothing, why?”

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

He smiles, but it isn’t a real one. “Since when do you care about me?”

“I don’t,” I growl.

“Then why are we here?” He makes a show of looking around. “I mean, I’m not opposed to a little public indecency, but…” He smirks.

Okay, so he’s still a cocky asshole. I guess he is fine. Why I cared at all, I don’t know.

“Whatever,” I mutter as I pull my phone from my pocket and head toward the door, leaving his irritating ass in my wake. “Forget it.”

The app is open for me to order a car, and so I do that, waiting for it to go through—but it doesn’t.

“What the fuck,” I hiss, moving a little ways down the sidewalk and trying again.

This time it pops up with an insufficient funds error, but that can’t be right. I’ve planned out all the money I have. I factored in the cost of this ride into my allowance. The money should be there.

I open up my bank app. The balance shows $ 0.43 .

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

I must have fucked something up somewhere, but how? Where? When?

I scroll through the transactions and realize my problem.

The money I transferred over for today hasn’t posted to my account yet. It’s still authorizing.

“Damnit,” I growl, shaking my head.

“Something wrong?” Alex asks as he walks out of the restaurant.

“No,” I snap, then walk away.

“Where are you going?” he asks, following after me.

“Home. ”

“Isn’t that in the other direction?” he calls.

I stop and look back. Honestly, I have no fucking idea. All I know is that I don’t want him knowing that I don’t have any fucking money.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“I’m just asking,” he says, holding his hands up. "Take it easy.”

“Well, stop.”

I turn and keep walking. He follows again, and I growl in frustration. I swear this guy never knows when to leave me alone.

“Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

“So you’re just going to walk all the way back to Brighton? It’ll take you hours.”

“Fuck off, Alex.”

His footsteps get faster and then his hand is on my shoulder and he’s in front of me.

“Jordan, just fucking stop,” he says harshly.

“What?” I bark. “What the hell do you want?”

“Just let me give you a ride.”

“I don’t need a ride.”

“Yes, you fucking do!”

I grit my teeth.

“And I don’t fucking care that you do. I have to head up that way anyway, just let me bring you.”

“Why? ”

“Because it’s on my way—”

“No, why do you need to go that way?”

I feel like he’s lying. Just saying it to be nice. I don’t need him to be nice to me. I don’t need him to take care of me, and I definitely don’t need him to flaunt his fucking money at me.

“I have to pick up some stuff for Austen.”

I narrow my eyes, not sure I can believe him.

But walking home will take hours. Calling a car isn’t an option.

It seems like the only option I have is Alex.

All the other guys left already, and asking Austen is out of the question since it’s completely out of his way and I’m sure he has shit to do since the wedding is tomorrow. Maybe Alex is telling the truth.

“Fine, whatever,” I grumble, turning around and shoving him away from me as I head back to the parking lot, toward his shiny dark blue Volvo.

I stare out the window the entire drive, ignoring his every attempt to start conversation.

He fusses with the radio every five songs, changing it at every red light.

I have nothing to say to him, and so I keep my mouth shut the entire time.

It also helps so I’m not constantly breathing in his cologne, which smells better than it should.

The only thing I do say is “thank you” once he pulls up in front of my dorm .

“If you need anything—”

“Fuck off, Alex,” I growl before slamming the door and hurrying up the steps.

Fuck him. I don’t need his help.

“See you tomorrow then,” he calls out the open car window, but his voice fades on the cold wind as I throw open the doors to my dorm building.

When I get back to my room, I need something to do to stop myself from flying over the edge. I’m enraged for no reason at all. Other than life sucking. I’m tired of everything being a fight all the time.

Going to the gym may help, so I dig through my bag from Vegas to find some shorts.

I haven’t unpacked because I’ve been so busy getting caught up on homework.

My favorite shorts are in here somewhere, so I keep digging.

Only I don’t find my shorts. What I do find is a small box on the bottom of my bag that isn’t mine.

It’s small and blue and wrapped with a satin ribbon.

I have no idea what it is, so I open it. My jaw drops when I see what’s inside.

Cufflinks. The exact ones I was looking at in Vegas. I know who they’re from before I even look at the card inside.

When in Vegas.

-Alex

I want to throw them away. Hell, I should throw them away. Or better, I should bring them to the pawn shop and sell them. I could use the money .

Despite them being an expensive gift, this isn’t about the price tag. It’s not about what they’re worth. It’s about me looking at them and wanting them. Alex knew. And so he bought them for me.

Fucking Alex.