Page 46

I keep my eyes focused out the windshield as Mandy drives us back to her apartment.

“So when I took Harper to the bathroom, did you two discuss the giant boner in his gray sweatpants?” she asks.

I gasp. “Amanda Lynette Miller!” I scold.

“You can triple name me all you want, Victoria Camille Hartley, but I said what I said and I need your answer.”

“No, we did not discuss his boner. I told him he’s spoiling her.”

“I bet that helped his situation,” she says. She points a finger up at the ceiling then lowers it so she’s pointing down, as if to say I made him lose his erection.

I roll my eyes.

“But you did see the bone-bone, amiright?” she asks.

I huff out a sigh but don’t dignify that with a response.

“Because it was…” She kisses her fingertips.

“You’re so inappropriate,” I mutter.

“You love it,” she says, and she elbows me a little. “Lighten up.”

“What do you want me to say? Yes, I saw it, and it looked massive, and God bless gray sweatpants, but part of me wondered if it would even fit, and then I wondered whether all the other rumors are true since clearly the rumor about his size is true.”

My rant is met with several beats of silence.

“You know he wants you, too, right?” she asks.

“What do you mean too ? I do not want him.”

“Sure you don’t,” she says, her tone full of sarcasm.

“I don’t .” I fold my arms over my chest as if that proves anything.

“Not even just like a one-night sample?” she asks.

“Especially not just a one-night sample.”

“Aha! So that’s the problem, then.” She nods as if she gets it.

“What is?” I ask, both exhausted from this conversation and a little curious as to where she’s leading me.

“You want more than one night with him, and you’re scared that’s all he’ll be able to offer you.”

“Is that really such an irrational fear?” I ask quietly.

She reaches over and squeezes my forearm. “Not at all, babe. But it’s okay to live a little, too.”

“Like you’re doing with Jaxon?” I press.

“Don’t you turn this around on me.” She shoots me a quick glare. “Tell me more why you’re fighting against this so much with him.”

“It’s not just him and me. Do I think the two of us would be insanely explosive together? Yes. Absolutely. And aside from the fact that I still kind of hate him and he tends to be a total dick, there’s also a little girl very much involved, and I can’t let her get hit by the debris of our failures.”

“How do you know it’ll be a failure?” she asks.

“How do you know it won’t be?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Isn’t it worth a shot?”

“Not at the expense of a little girl who has already been through way more than any ten-year-old should have to go through.”

“Do you think you’re blaming her situation because you’re too scared you’ll end up hurt?” she asks quietly.

Absolutely. I’m positive that’s part of it.

But I’m not ready to admit that to Mandy.

“I don’t know,” I mutter, and then I flip the conversation back to her. “Tell me what’s going on with you and Jaxon.”

“We’re having fun. We’re living a little.”

“Is it more than that?” I ask.

“I think it could turn into more than that, but I’m trying not to get too attached or too hopeful,” she admits.

I reach over and squeeze her forearm, too. She’s been single for the better part of the last year after finding out her ex was cheating on her, and it’s not like these hot and single young football stars have the kinds of clean reputations that wholesome girls like us are after. “It’s okay to get hopeful.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I’m just moving slowly.”

“You call sleeping over at his place four times since you met him moving slowly ?” I ask.

“The sex isn’t moving slowly. Mm, except when he takes it slow.” She gets all dreamy for a beat, and then she clears her throat and fans herself a little. “But you know, emotionally, I’m taking it slow.”

She pulls into her complex, and we head inside, effectively ending that conversation even though I find myself wanting to talk more about Travis. Just like her, I’m scared to get emotionally attached—just for very different reasons than she has.

I’m lost in thought about all that when my phone starts to ring in my purse. I grab it out and see it’s my sister calling.

“Hey, Ness,” I answer. “What’s up?”

“Jake proposed!” she squeals.

“Oh my God!” I squeal back. “Congratulations!”

“Ahh thank you! I’m so freaking happy!”

“Tell me everything!”

“We went for a little walk after dinner since Mom and Dad are watching the kids, and he took me by that pretty lake in the middle of their neighborhood, got down on one knee, said all kinds of things I don’t remember, and that was it. I said yes, and we’re planning a beach wedding for this summer.”

“This summer?” I repeat. Boy, she’s not wasting any time.

“Yes! June third. We figured you’d be out of school by then and maybe we can rent a huge place on the beach and spend a whole week there. Or just at a hotel. I don’t know. We’re looking at the Caribbean right now, but we’re not opposed to expanding our search, so let me know if you have any ideas. We talked about Hawaii and Mexico, too. Maybe Cabo, but it seems less kid-friendly than some of the other places, and I found an amazing rental in the Bahamas right on the beach that’s actually super affordable.” She’s babbling, but I’m stuck on that little detail of the date .

“June third…” I repeat, my voice trailing off.

Oh my God.

That’s a little over two months away.

“And of course you’ll be my maid of honor, right?” she asks, total giddiness in her tone.

I always sort of assumed she’d have a destination wedding since that’s what our parents did, and I assumed she’d ask me to be her maid of honor. I also assumed I’d have someone to take along as my date—namely, Owen, who I assumed would be the best man.

And maybe he still will be.

This is a stark reminder that I don’t have a date. I don’t have the kids I figured I’d have when my little sister got married. I don’t even have any prospects for any of that at the moment.

And all that comes crashing down on me at once.

“Of course I will. I’m so happy for you,” I manage to say through the lump forming in my throat.

I can’t go to her wedding without a date, especially not if Owen will be standing up in the wedding, too. But I can’t seem to make my voice work in order to ask.

But now…it’s time to start looking for a date to a wedding taking place in two months on some beach somewhere where my asshole ex will also be in attendance.