Page 32 of The First Best Man

Of course, he doesn’t, dumbass.

God, I don’t know how I’ll ever face him again. I feel like such a fool.

Stop it, Kate. You can do this. Hold your head high, be his friend, and get through this week. You can break down next week when he’s long gone.

I straighten my spine and give myself a single nod. That’s what I’ll do. Pretend like that little scene never happened, everything is normal, and his rejection meant as little to me as it did to him.

It’ll be easy. Right?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tucker

What the fuckis wrong with me?

I’ve never been one to run hot and cold with women. Either I want them, or I don’t. And if I do, I don’t hesitate to let them know.

Yet that’s exactly how I treated Kate last night. I didn’t even realize what I was doing as we ate and talked at the Grill, but in hindsight, I can see how she’d think the night had turned into some kind ofdate.

Hell, I felt it, myself. I got sucked just as deeply into our little bubble of intimacy as she did, and it wasn’t until she invited me back to her place that the bubble burst. I suddenly remembered who I am, whosheis, and all the reasons I’m determined to keep things platonic between us. Not the least of which is the fact that my best friend asked me to, and it’s his wedding week.

So, as much as my body screamed at me to say yes, Iignored my baser instincts and declined as gently as I knew how to.

And now? Now I don’t know if Kate will ever speak to me again, much less retain the fun, easy comradery we’ve built over the last few days. If she puts up a wall, I don’t know what I’ll do. Kate has been a bright, shining light this week, and I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want to mess up the festivities for her, either. Her best friend is getting married, and she’s the maid of honor. They’ll share the memories of this week, forever, and I don’t want that to be tainted.

As I rub some product between my palms, then sift my fingers through my hair, I stare at my reflection with a frown. This whole deal with Kate wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’tlikeher so much. Simple, physical attraction––even when it’s as strong as what I feel for her––is easy to ignore. Appreciate the view, go home alone, give myself a little tug and rub, and bada-bing, bada-boom, it’s all good.

But with Kate, there’s so much more than just the physical. From the moment I met her, she intrigued me, sitting at the bar by herself and shoutingJeopardy!answers at the television. My interest only grew when she generously offered to share her own food with a stranger when I was too late to order my own. And the conversation? I felt at ease with her instantly, and she seemed to feel the same.

There’s no intrigue nor are there any artifices with Kate. What you see is what you get, and I liked what I saw from moment one. When that asshole came in and insulted her after immediately propositioning her for sex…

I wanted to kill him. Tear him limb from limb. It was instinctual. A feral need to defend her, though she proved she could defend herself. I still chuckle every time I remember her quick comeback, especially that bit about his size.

I won’t entertain anything less than a full five-and-three-quarters inches. Maybe you should just show me.

I chuckle again as I remember the look on that little maggot’s face, then my humor flees as I recall what he said next. He called her afat bitch, and I lost my shit. Fuck that guy.

I snap out of my thoughts when my phone chimes, and I walk out of the bathroom. Picking up the device from the bed, I glance at the screen, and my heart thumps in my chest when I see it’s a message from Kate. Penny gave me her number at the start of the week, just in case, and though I programmed it in, I haven’t used it yet.

Is she texting to tell me she doesn’t want to see me today? That she’s decided to partner up with Sam for the rest of the wedding games?

Taking a deep breath, I tap the screen to open the message.

Kate:Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Logan. I just HADto tell you…I had the captain slip a twelve-pack of Raspberry Rizzle onto the yacht for Penny and Logan last night. *laughing emoji* *winking emoji*

A laugh barks out of me, then I bite my lip as I type out a response.

Me:Why is that funny? It’s a quality product.

Kate:Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean any insult. I just thought it was funny because they both hate raspberry-flavored stuff.

I chuckle as I read the text. Sweet Kate, backpedaling because she thinks she’s offended me, somehow.

Me:I’m messing with you.

Kate:Asshole. Don’t make me sick the bush monkeys on you again.

Me:Ha, ha. Very funny. I still owe you for that, and now I owe you for the Rizzle prank. They probably think I left it for them.

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