Page 57 of Bordeaux Bombshell
But because I can’t leave well enough alone, I open my mouth to speak, and what comes out isn’t the groveling I intended. “You’re not mad?”
“Should I be?” he counters.
The condensation on the outside of my tumbler is cool on my fingertips in contrast to my flaming cheeks. “Well, no. Not really.”
“Have you broken her heart lately?”
He’s being entirely too laid back about this. “She broke mine. This time, anyway.” Picking up the coaster nearest me, I pick at the edges, shredding them while I wait for Kel to absorb my words.
Philip is the one who asks the obvious question. Kel is still staring at his almost-empty glass, swirling the ice in circles. “Thistime? Was there a previous time?”
“I think the score is about even at this point.” The coaster is in bits on the table, leaving my hands with nothing to occupy them. Risking a glance at Kel, I suck in a breath at his expression.
There’s pity in his eyes and the twitch of his mouth. “Everything makes so much sense now. No wonder you’ve been so miserable all these years. I thought it was just about Sunshine, but it’s more, isn’t it?”
I’m about to open my mouth when Philip lets out a strangled noise. Glancing over, he’s got his hands curled under his chin and shoulders hunched. It takes me a second to realize the noise was a squeal he couldn’t quite contain.
“Ophie and I always thought there was something going on between you two. No one tries that hard to avoid someone unless it’s deeply personal. And Sydney’s excuse about you abandoning everyone never quite rang true. You abandonedher. That’s why she was so mad.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I grumble.
Kel breaks the silence that follows, abruptly sitting up straight. “Well, what’s the plan? Are you gonna try to win her back?”
Shocked, I copy the movement. “I hadn’t planned on it, no. It’s your wedding, man. The next two days should be about you and Maggie.”
Philip clasps a hand on my shoulder. “Good man. No stealing the bride’s thunder. But you know what you have the opportunity to do?”
“What?” I ask, not sure I know or trust where he’s going with this.
“Woo her.” He grins, as if that’s a complete answer.
“Woo her?”
Kel lets out a guffaw so loud every table around us stops talking and looks. “You think this asshole knows how to be charming? I’ve known Nate forever—he’s been a grump since the day we met. How do you propose he woos my sister?” He makes a face as he finishes, like the words taste bad in his mouth. “Sydney? Really? She’s so…stubborn. You sure you wanna live with that?”
How do I tell him that her stubbornness is one of the things I love about her? That when she juts her chin out at me, the challenge in her eyes goads me to prove myself worthy of her. And when she bends and melts into me? It’s so much sweeter for the work it took.
But I don’t say that out loud. It’s a surefire way to get a punch in the gut.
“I’m sure, Kel. She’s it for me—always has been.”
He stares at me, then nods. “Well. Let’s make a plan, then. Operation Woo the Hellcat. No, wait.” He burps, then tries again, falling off his chair from laughter. “Operation WooCat!”
Sydney
I’msuspicious.
I spent my time in Boston preparing to sit through all the wedding events while hiding my feelings. Worst case, I was prepared to ignore any digs Nate made at me and bite my tongue to keep from sniping back.
Lauren and I spent hours talking about my options. If I should stay in Portland or look for somewhere fresh to start over. We dissected whether I could even rightfully call him my ex. I said no since we were never officially together, and Lauren said yes because the trading of orgasms counts as some kind of situationship, no matter what.
In truth, the time they spent out there with me felt almost like therapy bootcamp. Or anger detox. I’m emotionally exhausted from picking apart every aspect of my feelings and working through my anger. And I have an appointment to see my new therapist again next week.
Instead of making digs at me, Nate’s acting as if I never left. Since I walked in the door at the rehearsal dinner tonight, he’s been funny, thoughtful, and courteous.
He’s acting the way I’ve seen when he thinks I’m not there. Except I am here. And he knows it, because Maggie had the brilliant idea of seating us next to each other at this dinner.
“Do you want some more?” Nate holds a carafe of water near my glass.
