Page 69 of Best Man
My temper kindles. It takes a lot to get me angry, but Zeb seems to be managing it ably. He hasn’t spoken to me once. Just dumped me at the door like a child he’s been babysitting and fucked off. There’s been no thought as to whether I’m okay or comfortable, just complete radio silence as if I’m not even here. I don’t think he’s even looked for me once.
I watch him now from my position leaning against a wall, half hidden by a rather large pot plant. He’s laughing at something a man is saying to him, his face alive with amusement and warmth. Anyone watching him would think he hasn’t got a care in the world. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe it’s just me who hates that we’ve argued, and he actually doesn’t really give a shit at all. I look for his wanker of a sidekick but he isn’t there. Then I catch a whiff of expensive aftershave and sigh.
“Hello, Patrick.”
He comes to stand next to me. “Admiring the scenery?” he asks as we both watch Zeb.
I shrug. “Well, it is pretty.”
He shoots me a sidelong look. “Oh, I’m aware of that. I looked at that view for years. It’s the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Can we dispense with the euphemism? You’re starting to sound like an estate agent.”
He takes a sip of his drink. “Okay. What would you like to talk about, Jesse? I can’t help but be curious about the young man who’s monopolised Zeb all month.”
“Curious or threatened?” I say flippantly, a flash of temper appearing. But I know immediately that I’ve somehow made a mistake as his lips curl into a smile that lacks all humour.
“Oh, I’m not threatened,” he says, staring at me. “Why would I be?”
“I really don’t know,” I say finally. “You’re getting married, so I’m at a loss as to why you seem to be so concerned with Zeb’s movements.” I allow a smirk. “Talented as his movements are.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t get used to them. He won’t stick around.”
“Why?” I hate myself for asking him that, but I can’t help it.
“Because you have nothing to offer him.” He looks me up and down. “You’re far too young. You’re inane and probably stupid. He’ll be bored within a couple of months.” He laughs. “Hell, he’s forgotten you already.”
We both look at Zeb, who is in intent conversation with another man. At that point he looks up and smiles. It’s intimate and devastating. Warm and almost loving. My lips tip up in reply but dip immediately as I remember the row and his behaviour and realise that he can’t be smiling at me. I turn back to Patrick who’s watching me intently, a pleased expression on his face.
“You see,” he says. “It’s not you he’s looking at. It’s me. It will always be me.”
“So, if it’s like that why are you not together and why are you getting married to a woman?”
He shrugs. “That doesn’t mean anything. Frances knows that. She just wants to get married. And as soon as there’s a baby on the way I’ll pick up with Zeb again.”
I shake my head. “That’ll never happen,” I say, confident for once. “He’s the most honourable man I’ve ever met. He won’t go for that.”
“Really?” he purrs, looking vastly amused. “Well, obviously what you know about Zeb is not exactly much. Do you know when he agreed to be my best man?”
I stare at him, thinking back to the conversation I had with Zeb in the car. Somehow it seems like a long time ago. “You were getting on together again, I think,” I say.
He throws his head back and laughs, and I briefly imagine karate-chopping him across the throat.
“That’s one way to put it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “Jesse, we were in bed at the time.” I stare at him, completely unable to say anything, and he smiles coldly with the light of triumph in his eyes. “He said he’d be my best man while my come was still running down his chest.” He looks me up and downand smirks. “Well, I’ll leave you with that. Enjoy the rest of your stay, Jesse.”
I watch him walk away, assured and handsome, and I look intently at Zeb’s face as Patrick comes near. The smile that plays on his face is warm, and I feel suddenly stupid. And very, very young.
I put my glass down and make my way into the bathroom. It’s empty, so I lock the door and subside onto the chaise lounge in the corner of the room. I stare at my reflection and contemplate what Patrick said. I’m sure he wasn’t lying. That was patently and painfully apparent. And I only have to remember Zeb’s odd hesitation when he mentioned why he’d agreed to be Patrick’s best man to know it’s true. Fucking hell, he slept with Patrick knowing he was engaged to be married.
I shake my head. The Zeb I know would never do that. He has too many ethics, and he’s too full of the desire to treat people well. Then I slump. “You obviously don’t know him,” I say out loud and the words are devastated, echoing the feeling in my eyes.
“Shit,” I say, scrubbing my face. “Fuck.” I make myself stand up. I can’t sit here like a twat. I’ll have to go back out there. I run cold water over my hot palms and brush my hair back. “Get a grip,” I advise my reflection. “Go out there and behave like the adult that he doesn’t think you are.”
I still as a desperate thought suddenly occurs to me.Maybe there’s still a chance. After all, he hasn’t been with Patrick this month and his reaction to him has mainly seemed to be a kindness with a slight edge of impatience. I know he’s enjoyed himself with me. The half-starved way he fell on me tells me that. Time and time again he’s reached for me, entering me every time with a deep groan as if he’s in heaven.
