Page 5 of The Best Man Wins

“I feel like this is leading somewhere,” he says.

I take a generous swallow from my glass. The wine tastes acidic, but I feel like I need it to tell this story. I don’t owe this stranger my story. I don’t owe him anything. But something about his deep eyes draw me in and make me feel comfortable here, so I take in a deep breath and spill.

“So this time last year…I had the worst day of my life. My fiancé had just dumped me and…I was going through a lot. So I got drunk at a wedding…very drunk…and had a minor freak-out.”

“Minor?”

“Okay, so major freak-out. Objected in the middle of the ceremony. Threw up on the father of the bride. Karate-chopped the cake.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“You’re laughing at me,” I accuse.

“I’m laughing with you.”

“I’m not laughing!”

“I’m just…confused… How exactly do you karate-chop a cake?”

“You’ll have to watch the video to find out.”

“Ah, so there’s a video.”

I heave an exhausted sigh. “Yes. There’s a video. Evidence of my very public and embarrassing meltdown was uploaded to YouTube and went viral. A million likes and counting.” I shrug. “So. That’s my story. I let a boy make me literally crazy. And now the world knows me as Bride Attack Girl.”

His eyes are watching me, sizing me up. “Boys are the worst, aren’t they?”

“Amen.”

“So are weddings.”

I knit my eyebrows. “What’s wrong with weddings.”

He shrugs. “It’s an archaic institution created to buy and sell women and strip them of their free will. Hallmark peddles the love bug like heroin just to sell overpriced greeting cards and merchandise. It’s a scam.”

He is exceptionally bitter, his tone gritty and caustic, and he has my interest, suddenly. There’s something real underneath that cocky smile.

My guess? He’s like me. He’s been burned by love. Only while I’m doing everything in my power to dust myself off and get back on my feet, he’d prefer to retreat into his loneliness entirely à la the Phantom of the Opera.

“Let me guess,” I say incredulously, “not a fan of Santa either?”

“The Tooth Fairy is a total bitch.”

“Some of us happen to love and respect the magic creatures of this world, thank you very much.”

I’ve earned a small grin from him. “You’re not so bad, Bride Attack Girl,” he comments.

I tilt my head. “You’re not so bad either, Brax-Hick.”

His eyes meet mine. They’re magnetic; his gaze is simultaneously warm and hard, quiet and controlled, and far too similar to the yellowed gaze of a hungry wolf lying in wait. “Well, you’ve only just started to get to know me.”

“How much worse does it get?”

“How much time do you have?”

I curl my hand under my chin. “All night.”

A smile touches the edge of his mouth. “Is that a promise?”

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