Page 2 of XO

Am I fated to become a lonely spinster at twenty-seven?

I’d had relationships in the past. Well, perhaps relationships is too much of an overstatement—fleeting affairs sound more accurate.

“No, but seriously…” she jokes, completely not serious, “… this man is to die for. And it would be a shame if he goes to waste because he’s very much single.”

“That’s good to know, Vicki,” I reply deadpan. “And, while I’m flattered you chose me to be your maid of honor, I do not wish to partake in your seemingly well-planned orgy.”

She snorts into her glass, champagne spraying her face. “Let the record show…” she says, delicately wiping her glossed lips, “… I did not know our wedding party would be so damn horny, especially for each other. Even I’m surprised.”

I look down the line and see the balloon has so far survived the ordeal.

“You’re up!” Vicki massages my shoulders. “Do it for the girls.”

Peter, the second groomsman, turns to me. He’s unsteadied due to the copious amounts of jaeger bombs he’s consumed and his willingness to get up close and personal. I’m hesitant to have him invade my body space, especially after the gross and rather detailed stories Vicki’s previously told me about him. But, stories aside, my best friend pushes me forward until my chest hits his. He sees it as a come-on and licks his lips in a way hethinksis sexy. I can say from firsthand experience, it’s not even remotely attractive. He’s yet another handsome man in Jase’s posse, but unlike pothead, Max, Peter is fully aware of his good looks and the effect it must have on women when he’s sober.

“Okay, big fella, steady on,” I warn, stepping back to create some distance. His hand snakes around my waist while he tries to insert the balloon between my legs. The group cheers, and I grimace wishing I’d accepted the earlier tequila shots. It would make the whole experience much more forgettable. As soon as I go to grip the balloon, Peter staggers back, taking me with him. Vicki holds my waist, and while I’m caught in a lopsided, awkward embrace with my balloon partner, I hear commotion at the door, the groom shouting in excitement. I try to turn but can only glimpse his back as Jase pulls him into a man hug.

“I can’t get it in,” Peter slurs as he claws my ass.

“Yep… I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” Thrusting forward, I grab the balloon. “Let go,” I order.

His leering, bloodshot eyes twinkle, and I have no doubt he’ll pass out within the hour. When he inches closer, lips seeking mine, I give a gentle push until he staggers back, loses his balance, and falls onto the stage resembling an upturned turtle.

I spin when I hear Vicki clap, but it’s not Vicki I’m looking at. I look harder, studyinghischiseled features and beautifully tanned skin. The intense dark eyes that stare back and the perfectly round freckle below his cheekbone tells me all I have to know.

I haven’t seen his handsome face in ten years.

When he left town without notice.

Since the day he devastated my heart.

Or more accurately, since the day he tore my heart from my chest and put it through a shredding machine. And now, here he stands, sexy as fuck and looking just as confused as I am.

“It’s you,” he murmurs, brows creased.

“You,” I reply bitterly, feeling my body tense. “What are you doing… ow… Jesus… fuck!” I grimace as the traitorous balloon pops between my legs, stinging my inner thighs. The pain radiates on my skin, however, it’s nothing compared to the dagger that’s just been plunged through my heart.

1

THEN

“Loosen your grip, Team Kennedy,” Mr. Allen, our gym teacher instructs, trying to position the bandana over the centerline. The sports day is coming to an end between the seniors, and the score is too close for comfort. It all comes down to a game of tug-of-war to break the tie and decide the winner. One false move and Team Lincoln, captained by Jacob Lynch, will take victory. The arrogant, smart-assed Jacob Lynch, takes pleasure in the discomfort he causes. Discomfort, because he takes it upon himself to wreak havoc in my life since the day we first met at the freshmen’s Open Day. Invasion Day as I call it. Because he just waltzed on in, took over, and never left.

“No cheating, Posie.” Jacob, smirks.

I loathe when he calls me that instead of Rosie.

“If anyone’s cheating, it’s you.” There’s a small but defiant rope tug before Mr. Allen warns Team Lincoln to loosen their grip, still fighting to center the bandana.

“Team Lincoln… if you don’t cooperate, I’ll award the points to Kennedy.”

The vocal girls behind me giggle and jeer those on the other side who holler their replies, rude enough to incite a response, but subtle enough to fly under the radar of a teacher reprimand. I turn to Cody, who’s our anchor and self-proclaimed ‘heavyweight.’ He smiles, his chubby cheeks becoming even chubbier.

“Are you ready?” I mouth.

He nods and winks, stepping one foot behind the other, while his hands grip the rope.

“Don’t fall too hard, Posie. I may not catch you,” Jacob taunts.

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