Page 18 of Truth or More Truth (Throwback RomComs #3)

seventeen

. . .

“ M elissa Belinda Teague, you’d better spill the beans,” Wendy demands as soon as Bobby hightails it out of my room.

“My middle name is not Belinda,” is all I say as I rush into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

“That’s not the point,” Wendy says from the doorway, where she stands with her arms crossed. “The point is you lied to me about what happened here last night. Friends don’t lie to each other.”

“I’m sorry, Wendy. I wasn’t completely truthful, but I can’t tell you why he was here. Though I can tell you nothing romantic happened.” Unless holding him until he fell asleep is romantic, which it may well be, but I can’t let myself dwell on that.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

I sigh as I swipe the washcloth over my face and neck. “Because it’s not my story to tell, okay? There’s no point in pushing me on this, because I’m not going to give in.” And I also am not fully sure why Bobby was here, either, but I trust that he’ll tell me when he’s ready.

“Okay. But I will tell you to be careful. Bobby is … a lot.”

I catch her gaze in the mirror. “What does that mean?” I ask defensively. Wait. Since when am I defensive about Bobby Jacobs?

Wendy holds her hands up. “Bobby’s a good man. I know he is. And it seems like you know that, too. But there’s a lot about him and his life and his family that you don’t know, and until you do know, I think you need to keep some defenses up.”

“You don’t think I can handle whatever it is he’s hiding from me?” I ask around my toothbrush.

“I think you can. No, I know you can. And to be clear, he hides a lot of things from almost everyone. It’s not just you.

I only know his secrets because Randall does, and Bobby gave him his blessing to tell me if he wanted to.

And the things he hides aren’t things that reflect badly on him, they’re just a lot. ”

“Hmm.” I spit out my toothpaste and rinse my mouth. “So we’re both hiding things about Bobby from each other, then?”

“I guess so. Because I’m not giving away his secrets, and I’m glad you’re not either.”

“Then why were you trying to drag it out of me?” I ask.

“Because I thought you were hiding that you two got it on. But now I know it’s something personal about him, so I won’t push. I’ll respect his privacy.”

“Um, ‘getting it on’ with someone is personal and private,” I explain, “in case you’re not aware.”

Wendy flicks her wrist. “Yeah, but it’s different.

For example, I feel no violation of privacy in telling you the personal information that my husband and I got it on last night and again this morning.

” She doesn’t even pause after that unnecessary declaration before changing the subject.

“All right, you go get dressed, and I’ll pack up your makeup bag to take with us. No point in putting any on yet.”

I’m slipping on my shoes when Wendy comes out of the bathroom and says, “I thought it was interesting that Leslie’s mom seated you between Bobby and Shannon last night.”

She opens the door and motions for me to precede her through it.

“You think she did that on purpose?” I ask as we walk down the hall.

“I don’t know. It was entertaining, though. Bobby’s face was frownier than normal every time you talked to Shannon instead of him. ”

Why does her observation make my insides flutter?

Wendy says, “Be honest here. Do you like both of them? And if so, do you have a preference for one over the other? Because I have a feeling neither of them would turn you down.”

I think about her question as we make our way out of the hotel.

Shannon’s a fun guy. He’s easy to talk to, he’s full of compliments, and I have no concerns about him, other than the fact that he recently got out of a relationship.

Bobby, though? Red flag city. But regardless of Shannon’s charm and extremely good looks, he doesn’t make my insides flutter like Bobby does.

His touch doesn’t send sparks shooting along my skin.

Shannon would be the safe choice, for sure.

There’s no doubt he would treat me well, and not only because Ash and Randall would kick his tail if he didn’t. But is that all I’m looking for?

“You’re thinking verrrry hard,” Wendy says as we get in the car.

“I know. It’s not an easy question to answer.”

“At least give me your thoughts.”

“First, tell me this: does Bobby have a girlfriend? Or even more than one girlfriend?”

Wendy turns to look at me before we take off. “You really think that man would share a bed with you two nights in a row if he has a girlfriend?”

I feel my face heating. “No.” It’s the truth. I’ve known it since yesterday, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, because that would mean he’s free for me to date. And potentially dating that man scares me—in several ways.

“Good. And to be perfectly clear with my answer to your question, Bobby does not have any girlfriends at the moment. And I doubt he has ever dated more than one woman at a time—at least not seriously dated. He’s not that kind of guy.”

I nod. “What does it say about me that I thought he might be?”

“It says you’re realistic and cautious, especially after what happened with Jeremy. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Bobby’s not an easy one to get to know. Now, tell me what you’re thinking about both him and Shannon. ”

I explain my feelings about the two men while we head down the road toward Oakville.

“You deserve to be treated well,” Wendy says. “But you also deserve flutters and sparks. You know Shannon doesn’t provide that for you. And you don’t know that Bobby wouldn’t treat you well. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’d treat you like the queen you are. So I think you have your answer.”

She’s right.

I think we’re done with the topic, but Wendy asks, “Have you told him about Jeremy?”

I sigh. “No. I had the perfect opening yesterday, but I didn’t take it.”

“Secret keeping seems to be the name of the game around here. You two need to do some serious talking. Today probably isn’t the best time, but you’ll be trapped in a car together all day tomorrow, so you’ll have more than enough time to spill your guts to each other then.”

As we get ready at Leslie’s parents’ house for the late-afternoon wedding, I try to push thoughts of Bobby from my head.

I’m not successful.

First of all, I can’t get the feel of my hand on his bare chest out of my mind.

Second, I really want to know what happened to him last night—what memories or trauma our near-accident brought back for him.

Because that’s undoubtedly what happened.

There’s a car accident in his past, and it was bad enough to cause a man as strong and determined as Bobby to shut down.

Though I’m wondering why last night’s incident sent him into panic mode but driving through a blizzard didn’t.

A finger pokes into my side.

“Earth to Melissa,” Leslie says in a robotic voice.

“Oh! Sorry. I was in my own little world. What did I miss?”

Leslie points to her auburn-haired cousin, who’s been helping us get ready even though she’s not in the wedding party.

“Beckett mentioned she saw a shirtless man do the walk of shame from one hotel room to another this morning, and both rooms are on the wing we reserved for the wedding party and guests. Then Wendy tried to stifle a laugh and glanced your way.” She cocks her head to the side.

“What’s that about? You have an overnight visitor? ”

I could kill Wendy right about now. When I look at her, though, she shakes her head, letting me know she didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know anything about a walk of shame,” I state confidently. It’s not a lie. Nothing shameful happened in my hotel room last night. And even if she were right about what she thinks happened, I wouldn’t find any shame in that, either.

“You sure?” Leslie asks. “Beckett’s description of the man sounded a lot like a particular sports agent we all know and love. Well, we might not all love him, but we know him. And now I kinda want to see him with his shirt off.” She pauses. “Don’t tell my almost-husband I said that.”

We all laugh.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I say. “Why are we talking about this anyway? This is your day! You’re getting married! Wooooo!” I stand and shake my arms and hips.

The other ladies laugh and then all join in on the celebration, shouting and dancing and hip-bumping each other.

When we settle down again, Beckett asks Leslie, “What happened with Shannon and Christi? I didn’t know they broke up until last night. I thought maybe Shannon had finally found the one.”

“I don’t know,” Leslie says. “He hasn’t told me what happened.

He doesn’t seem all that broken up about it, which I find weird, since they were together longer than he’s ever dated anyone else.

Granted, that was only about five months.

” She shrugs. “I’m worried about him, but there’s nothing I can do about it if he won’t talk to me. ”

Aunt Star clears her throat. “He talked to me about it.”

“He did?” Leslie asks her aunt with a slight frown.

“Yes. I called him after your mom told me about the breakup, and I got him to open up. He felt guilty talking to me about it instead of to you, but he didn’t want to bother you with your wedding coming up. And I won’t break his confidence, but I will tell you not to worry. He’ll be okay.”

Tears glisten in Leslie’s eyes. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Aunt Star stands up and claps her hands together. “Now, let’s dry your tears so Beckett can get your makeup finished. It’s almost time!”

The wedding goes off without a hitch. Leslie looks radiant in her dress, which is fashioned after Scarlett O’Hara’s “curtain dress” in Gone With the Wind.

Our bridesmaid dresses are purple satin and of similar design, though the skirts aren’t nearly as full.

I’m thankful for that, as it would be difficult to dance in a skirt as full as Leslie’s, and I fully intend to get my dance on at the reception.

Ash does cry when he says his vows, and he doesn’t seem ashamed by it, which makes me proud of him. Bobby catches my eye a few times throughout the ceremony, and I hold his gaze for longer than would’ve seemed appropriate two days ago but seems normal now.

As we make our way down the aisle after the ceremony, he whispers, “Don’t tell Leslie, but I much prefer the dress you wore last night.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I murmur. “And I can say the same about your clothes. The pastel paisley isn’t doing you any favors.”

His laugh is a low rumble, and when I glance up at him, his dimple is on full display.

“I’m losing the bowtie and cummerbund the second we finish taking pictures.”

“Wise move.”