Page 2 of The Problem with Players

Wesley and I had been dating for over three years, yet I’d never met a handful of his closest friends. He moved from Charlotte, North Carolina, to Illinois for a job position over five years ago, leaving most of his close friends in North Carolina. This was the first time his three friends had come to visit him in small-town Honey Creek.

It would be nice to meet his groomsmen finally. I’d heard many stories about Patrick, Lance, and Drew, though Drew wasn’t in the wedding. I only had my sisters standing up for me, so it would’ve been an odd number. It did feel odd that Wesley said Drew was his best friend, yet he didn’t ask him to be his best man. Wesley offered that role to Lance instead. When I asked about it, Wesley shrugged it off. I guess guy friendships were different.

The four of them went to undergrad together and kept close contact even after going their separate ways for graduate school. As far as I knew, they were all super brains, too, like Wesley.

When the doorbell rang, I followed Wesley to the foyer, ready to be as social as possible. I put on a big smile as Wesley opened his front door, and the three individuals stood there with huge grins. They all shouted big hoorays, holding up bottles of champagne as they rushed over to Wesley and pulled him into a big hug.

They laughed and celebrated a warm reunion as I stoodback, taking in the situation. Once they released their grip on Wesley, they walked into the foyer and smiled my way.

Wesley walked over and wrapped an arm around my waist. “You guys, this is my beautiful, talented, breathtaking fiancée, Avery. Avery, this is Patrick, Lance, and Drew,” he stated, gesturing toward each individual.

I shook hands with each of them, a little thrown off when it came to the last hand I shook, Drew’s. It appeared to me that there had been some kind of miscommunication along the line when it came to Wesley’s best friend.

Drew Jacobson was a woman.

A very beautiful woman with long blond hair and the bluest of blue eyes.

I tried my best to play it cool as I was introduced to them all, but I couldn’t get over the fact that I had no clue his best friend was a very beautifulwomanwith long blond hair and the bluest of blue eyes.

Lovely.

I wasn’t an insecure woman, but seeing Drew sent a wave of discomfort through me. Especially based on how she looked at Wesley with heart-shaped eyes. Maybe it was my imagination, but Drew seemed to hug Wesley a littletoolong for my liking. There was always a slight bit of discomfort when another woman hugged a taken guy a little too long. Last year, I almost got into a fistfight with our town’s gossip, Milly West, when she put her grimy hands around Alex on his and Yara’s wedding day. Willow informed me it would’ve been unladylike to beat up a woman in her sixties on our sister’s wedding day, but I considered it. That was until Alex grimaced and peeled Milly’s hands away from him. He instantly wrapped himself around Yara and rolled his eyes at Milly.

One thing Alex Ramírez would always do was roll his eyes and sit in annoyance with anyone and everyone who wasn’t his wife. He loathed human interaction as much as I did. One ofthe things he and I had in common. The other thing? Our love for my younger sister.

Alex was a good, loyal man like my father. Wesley was on the list, too.

I’d only dated one man before Wesley, when I was a very young eighteen-year-old. That only lasted for a summer, too. Since then, I’ve spent most of my life single, and I didn’t have a problem with that. It wasn’t until Wesley came around that I saw the real possibility of being with someone again, of loving someone else. Before him, I was content with the idea of being an old maid and living my life to the fullest. I knew I didn’t need a man to have a happy life. Overall, the male species kind of annoyed me.

My youngest sister, Willow, the free spirit that she was, made sure to always remind Yara and me that the greatest love stories were with the ones staring back at us in our reflections, and men were just fun play toys that we could pick up and put down whenever we wanted.

I thought that was her way of excusing her promiscuous ways when it came to her picking up and putting down quite the array of play toys herself. Still, I believed her. I never let my life revolve around men. To be honest, I thought most of them were arrogant, smelly, and low in value. So when I found myself falling for Wesley, I knew he was different. He made me question all my sour beliefs about the male species.

At least, I thought so until I sat in our living room playing a game of charades with his friends.

WithDrew.

Drew, the woman.

A few facts I’d learned about Drew over the past thirty minutes: she had a hyena laugh; when she lied, her mouth twitched; and she avoided refined sugar with every fiber of her spirit. Though, based on the twitch of her mouth, that was a lie.

Also, the more champagne the woman drank, the more obnoxious she became.

Drew stood in front of everyone, pulling her long hair into a ponytail and clapping her hands together. She made the hand gesture as if she were operating an old-fashioned camera.

“It’s a movie!” Wesley called out. A little too elated if you asked me. He hadn’t stopped smiling since that woman—and his other friends—entered our house. I swear, I’d never seen all his teeth before that night. My gosh, did he still have his wisdom teeth? Wesley was normally much more reserved with his smiles and somber with his expressions.

Drew nodded in agreement. She then put up one finger.

“One word!” Wesley shouted.

She nodded again, then started acting out a scene—poorly. She looked like a wild child, holding her hands out into the air, and Wesley stared at her as if she were Meryl Streep in an Oscar-winning movie. That was when my Spidey senses began to tingle. Something was amiss with how my fiancé was staring at another woman. Some might’ve called me paranoid, but my father taught me at a young age to never go against a hunch. And my hunch told me something was odd about Drew and Wesley’s connection.

Patrick and Lance laughed at Drew’s actions, having no clue what she was doing. I was just as lost as I studied the woman trying her best. I guessed her best wasn’t good enough. She might’ve been a rocket scientist, but the woman was not a charades queen.

“Come on!” Drew said, clapping her hands toward Wesley. “We did this for our first date, on the boat!” she urged.

And there it is.

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