Page 6 of The Plus Ones
It was one kiss.
Five years ago.
It was one fucking awesome, hot, confusing kiss between two people who were caught up in the emotions of their best friends’ wedding.
Get over it.
I did.
I haven’t forgotten it, but I’m over it.
I’ve been busy working my ass off, making investments, making millions, traveling the world. Admittedly, there has been a lot more business than pleasure in my life lately, which makes the time pass quicker somehow. Admittedly, in those moments when I’m alone in a hotel room in Tokyo or Sydney or London and I can’t get to sleep, my mind goes to that moment out on the deck in Greenpoint. To the way her hands gripped the lapels of my suit jacket and the way her tits pressed against my chest and the way she nibbled hungrily on my lower lip and moaned so quietly.
But that’s just because it didn’t go anywhere, so it’s easier for my mind to fill in the blanks. I like the blanks. The blanks are what make it such a vivid memory. For me, anyway.
Clearly I rocked Foxy Roxy’s world and the only way she thinks she can keep her balance is by avoiding me so it doesn’t happen again.
It won’t happen again.
It was a one-time thing.
It was the wedding. It was the champagne. It was the speeches and the group hug. It was the strings of warm white lights and the summer night air. It was knowing that things were changing and that we might not be ready for what our friends were experiencing. Whether we wanted it or not.
And yeah, sure, it was her fucking hot body in that dainty little dress and the way her hair was all piled up on her head and that exposed neck and the way she kissed me back like it was the only thing that mattered to her. Like that kiss could make time stand still. And it did. For a minute.
But if she needs to believe I’m still the rich dick I was when she met me, then I’m happy to play that part for her. No matter how small a role she wants me to play in her life.
Your loss, sweetheart.
Tonight, all I care about is seeing my friends and their kids. It’s been way too long. Chase and Aimee spent Thanksgiving in Ann Arbor this year. Matt and Bernie were in Vermont. Vince and Nina were in Indiana. Their afternoons and weekends are usually spent shuttling their kids back and forth between activities. They all have kids the same age who go to the same preschool, so they see each other all the time. I’ve got my work friends, my buddies from school… It’s not like I don’t have anything to do. But it’s not the same. These are the people I want to be around, right here.
“Hey, man.” Matt McGovern’s voice startles me so much, I actually jump. “Who are you staring at?” He turns to look in the direction that I’ve apparently been staring in, following my gaze.
“No one,” I mutter. “That guy.”
“That guy standing right next to Roxy? Tommy?”
“Yeah. I like his sweater.”
He looks back at Tommy, who’s wearing a bright-green sweater with a fancy gay elf on it, and then over at Roxy, who’s wearing a surprisingly tasteful cashmere sweater dress that hugs every one of her obnoxious, gorgeous curves, and furrows his brow at me. This guy is so fucking handsome I’d want to punch him in the face if he weren’t such a good friend. “Uh-huh,” he says. “Lemme help you with those bags.” He takes one of the shopping bags from me.
I’ve got two big shopping bags filled with presents for the kids.
“Your assistant’s been busy, I see.”
“I’ll have you know I bought these all by myself. Online. With Aimee’s guidance.” Now that I have one hand free, I give him a half-bro-hug. “Good to see you, man. Happy holidays.”
“Welcome. Gang’s all here. We’ll put the presents over by the tree, okay?”
I follow him while surveying the room, in the way that I had meant to do before catching sight of Roxy fucking Carter. The gang is indeed all here, as are about thirty other people. There’s a big Christmas tree in the corner of the living room that’s really tastefully decorated from the middle of it up to the top and then covered with haphazard handmade decorations from about three feet down where the kids could reach the branches. When I see the hanging clay zombie with a Santa hat, I know that Finn McKay made it and smile to myself.
“The kids are all in the family room watching a movie. And destroying things, probably. What can I get you to drink? Bernie made mulled wine and eggnog, but we’ve got the usual full bar. Vince is making cocktails to order.”
“I’ll try the mulled wine.”
Matt raises his eyebrows and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. A subtle warning that would cost him an arm punch if his wife caught it.
“I’ll have whatever Vince wants to make me.”
