Page 68 of This

He’s too interested in her reaction to worry about me. His head bounces between us, a smirk forming. “Looks like I’m not the only one chasing you, Lex.”

I flex my jaw at the nickname. The others call her that, too, but it only bothers me out of his mouth. Another reminder of the object he thinks of her as—a toy, a car.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, more to me than her. “You screw it up already?”

He pushes hard but not enough for me to cause a scene. I look past him to Bennett, who’s shrinking and eager for an escape.

“It’s almost time for the first dance,” I say. “Keaton’s looking for you.”

I hold out my arm for her. A test to see which of us she wants to run away from more. Him or me. She nods, giving Bentley a wide berth on her way to my side. I’m the lesser of two evils. I don’t know what I would have done if it’d gone the other way.

As we walk inside, she leans into me, my arm around her shoulders. I’ve always been aware of how well she fits, tucked against my side, in the palm of my hand, in a place in my life I didn’t know needed filled. I hesitate to let go once we’ve returned to the ballroom, but curious eyes fall on us from my family, hers, anyone who has noticed the change between us since yesterday. Each estranged minute, we’ve gained followers now interested in the reverse in direction.

While I couldn’t give a shit, Bennett tenses under my touch and pulls away. I consider tugging her back, deciding for both of us that she is wrong and stubborn and needs to get over herself.

The DJ directs attention to the dance floor. The song Liam’s been humming for three months while we shower at the gym floats through the speakers to start their first dance as husband and wife. Bennett heads for the bar when she hears it, but I stay in place. Let her breathe, find some wine. In three and a half minutes, she’ll be back in my arms with nowhere to go.

When I stride toward heron the dance floor, I have no idea what song plays or any awareness of the other couples from the wedding party around us. I just see her. We danced at the ridiculous cowboy bar in San Francisco, and I pull her against me like then, taking advantage of the situation. The excuse to touch her and feel the warmth of her on my skin.

Until the music stops, we can pretend.

Her cheek presses against my chest, and I rest mine on top of her head.

“Ask me to go with you,” I say into her hair.

It’s not a plea but a last chance to rewind to before the bathroom. Before she decided to push me out of her life and rob me of what I truly want. Not a job someone chose for me or the house I’ve hated every minute in, except the ones she spent there with me.

Her.

Bennett buries her face in my shirt, and I won’t get an answer. I won’t ask again either. We hold on to each other until the music bleeds into something else, and our moment of pretending ends. The words and conflict return, pushing us further and further apart until I can’t reach her anymore.

And whatever this was…

It’s over.

Bennett ducks out of thereception with Keaton’s cousin Chevy shortly before the DJ stops. Keaton and Liam hold hands on their way out the doors, heading to their room. And I head to the cabin. Alone.

I don’t see her at breakfast in the morning. Her car isn’t in the parking lot when I take my bag and tux to the truck. No one says anything when she’s not at the apartment later to help carry in gifts.

She’s gone, and she’s not coming back.

As I leave, I pass Ford in the hallway, the cousin I thought I’d have to fight off with a stick at one point.

With his arms full of wrapped boxes, he gives an empathetic half-smile. The expression says,Welcome to the Bennett Club, my dude.

But I refuse to learn a handshake. She’ll change her mind. A lie I’ll hold on to as long as possible.

Monday passes, then Tuesday, and a number of other days. I go to work, I go home, I obsessively look at my phone. When she does come to her senses, I don’t want to miss any more time with her than I already have. It becomes a habit after a week. Park the truck, glance at the screen. Hop off the rowing machine, check for a text.

Liam starts taking the temptation away whenever he’s around. He’ll walk into my office and swipe my phone off the desk or throw it in his bag in the locker room. I appreciate the intervention. I wasn’t a jealous person before her, and I sure as hell wasn’t this fucking guy. Shadow Dane, waiting for a goddamn notification that I can have my life back.

He and Keaton held off on a honeymoon. They’re saving for a house—white picket fence, a dog that barks when the doorbell rings. She shared a Pinterest board with him. I’ve seen it from over his shoulder, helped him pin a thing or two to balance out the fluffy pillows and matchingHisandHerstowels overtaking his virtual dream life.

Keaton and I tread water at first. We avoid eye contact, keep sentences short, and stay away from anything remotely related to her best friend. It occurs to me, she’s been through it before with Bentley.

“It’s different,” Liam tells me while she’s in the kitchen one day. “Bentley fucked Bennett over. He deserved her fury and expected it, but with you…” He sinks into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose below his glasses. “She has no reason to hate you, and it pisses her off more than if she did have one.”

“Ca-ray-zay,” I say, mimicking his usual cadence.

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