Page 82 of Something Borrowed

He keeps up his usual stream of chatter, telling me of obstacles and making low-voiced observations about the people around us while intermittently charming the staff we encounter. It makes me smile because he’s courteous and warm without fail, and the reward is the way their voices change when they’re talking to him. I don’t think Raff hears it, but I do. They have a smile in their tone like a little bit of sunshine seeped in.

I stand beside him while we’re at the check-in desk. We get priority boarding because of my blindness, and consequently, there are details to manage. It feels nice not to take care of everything on my own today. Raff is laser-focused on the travel forms, as he’s dealt with them for me many times.

As I wait, my mind wanders to where it’s been stopping since that debacle of an engagement announcement. And specifically, to what and how much I should explain to Raff. I never keep secrets from him, so this one is burning my tongue. It feels all shades of wrong that he, of all people, doesn’t know. It had been bad enough dealing with my family pretending to be happy last night when they can’t stand Bennett.

I have to keep up this pretence for Bennett for only a few more days. I’d given my word to Bennett, even though I have regrets about doing so. My word means a lot to me. People might not trust me with physical arrangements or clothing advice, but I like that they always know I’ll do what I say.

I reassure myself that Raff is my oldest, closest friend. And while this means he’ll be disappointed I’ve kept the truth from him, I know he’ll understand and forgive me when I explain everything once the wedding is over.

“Stan?”

I jerk, realising he’s talking to me. “Yeah?”

“We’re ready to go through.”

“Oh good,” I say quickly.

“You, okay?” His voice is concerned, and I shrug my worries away. It will be just us for a whole day and night, and I’m going to enjoy it.

“Absolutely fine,” I say.

Rafferty

I peer through the window at the scenery flashing past the taxi. We’re driving along a windy road that offers the view of an eye-wateringly steep drop down to the sea. Stubby trees cling to the hillside, and the sky is a perfect cornflower blue. “Leo and Richard couldn’t have picked a better place to get married.”

“Apparently, Greece is special for them. I’ve never got the details, though.” He cocks his head. “What can you see?”

There isn’t a trace of self-pity in his voice that he can’t see the view himself, and I want so badly to stretch out and take his hand. Usually, I’d do this without a second thought, but he’s not mine now. The pain that accompanies that thought is enough to make my heart stop, and once again, I curse the fact that I didn’t appreciate what I had until I lost it through my own stupidity. I can still remember when I realised I was in love with him…

“I don’t knowwhy you enjoy bowling,” Bennett huffs. “It’s so noisy, and the shoes are disgusting.”

“But those are thefunparts,” Stan says.

I smile at him. His grin is wide, his hair messy, and enjoyment is written all over him. The smile fades as I register the length of his muscular legs in his faded jeans and the way his old denim shirt clings to those broad shoulders. I remember holding on to them while he fucked me hard, and I want to scream.

Why can’t I turn this fucking awful awareness off? He’s made it perfectly clear that he’s moving on from our arrangement.With any of my other men, I’d have smiled and waved them off. But not Stan. I only have to stand near him and smell his cologne, and I get hard. I only have to be near him to want to touch him. And I can’t. Not anymore.

“We like it, don’t we, Raff?” Stan’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

“You just like it because you get the bumpers up,” I point out, putting a smile in my voice. “And an unfair advantage.”

“That’s completely out of order, Rafferty,” Bennett snaps in the headmaster's tone of voice that makes me want to expel him. “He’s blind. As if Stan would cheat.”

I glare at him. How dare he interfere with our jokes. They’ve been around a lot longer than him. And where the fuck does he get off dismissing Stan’s abilities? If he wanted to cheat, no one could stop him.

“What a tool,” Kem mutters next to me, and I nod and wait for Stan to rear up at Bennett.

But Stan just pats his hand. “Raff could never offend me.” He sends a naughty look in my direction. “That’s just his sour grapes talking.”

“I think you’ll find there’s enough sour grapes to fill a winery,” I point out hoarsely. “You beat me every time. I need to point out that people don’t like sports if there isn’t even thetiniestchance of ever winning anything.”

“Ha. Get used to it.”

After grabbing a bright yellow patterned ball, he taps his way down to the lane, and I watch as he slides his stick along it, gauging the width and where the bumpers are. He lifts the ball, and I groan. “Fucking hell.”

Kem starts to laugh. “It’s the zigzag.”

“What’s the zigzag?” Bennett asks, looking up from where he’s cleaning the score table with hand sanitiser.

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