Page 53 of The Bodyguard Affair
“I’ll have to see. I need to confirm my vacation time—” I start.
“We’ll let you know,” Nolan declares.
“Great. Glad you’re considering it. Laine was really worried you’d feel awkward.” Hunter gifts me a sympathetic look, which makes me want to bash my forehead into the railing around our box.
“Why would I feel awkward? Because of our history?” I ask innocently. Maybe it’s the fact that Nolan is at my side, but I’m overcome with the urge to make Hunter sweat a little.
“Exactly! I mean, you and I dated for, what—a couple months? I keep telling Laine how it wasn’t anything serious, but you know her. She just cares so much.”
Something twists through my chest. Hurt? Annoyance? Frustration? Probably a mix of all. I open my mouth to reply, but my mind is stuck on “a couple months” and “wasn’t anything serious.” Is he for real right now?So the entire year we dated, lived together, and talked at length about our future wasn’t anything serious?I want to ask. I want to slap him. But of course, I’m me. I freeze.
Sensing my discomfort, Nolan swiftly tugs at my arm, gaze narrowed. “Let’s grab a drink. The game is about to start.”
“Yes!” I pop up, a little too enthusiastic.
We shuffle out of our seats and slip into the crowd, tucking ourselves into an empty spot near the bar to order our drinks.
Nolan absorbs me for a couple beats before speaking. “I know you said he wouldn’t be the type to put his lips on the fountain nozzle, but I’d bet you a hundred bucks he did.”
A deep laugh finds its way out, so much so, I nearly cough up my drink. “Thank you. I needed that. The conversation about cream or blush napkins almost did me in.”
He snorts. “I must have blacked out before then. Probablysomewhere after she brought up the pros and cons of chair covers.”
“I mean, I’m all for big, extra weddings if that’s what people want. The part that gets me is that she keeps following everything up withbut it’s going to be so chill,” I admit, feeling both relieved and also a little guilty for complaining about her.
“Not like a regular wedding,” Nolan adds, doing his best Laine impression.
“Right? It’s kind of annoying.”
“Are you actually thinking of going?” he asks.
The million-dollar question I’ve been avoiding for weeks now. “Even if I wanted to go, I don’t know if I’d be able to take three days off from work. Unless I get a bunch of my to-do list completed before.”
“You know, you don’thaveto go,” he reminds me, sensing my turmoil.
“I know. But how do I say no?”
“Easy. You check decline on the RSVP card and never think about it again.”
Just the thought of it makes me shiver. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“That tracks,” he says, gently pulling me into his side.
I tip my chin up to meet his gaze. “What tracks?”
“You and your need to please people.”
I set my drink down on the bar. “It just feels too harsh to decline. I owe it to my and Laine’s friendship. If I didn’t go, it would be a clear message that I don’t want to be friends anymore.”
“Are you still really friends?” he asks gently.
“Technically speaking, we’re still friends. But we don’t reallyhang out anymore, aside from maybe once or twice a year.” It’s only when I say it out loud that I realize how sad that sounds. It might be acceptable if we actually had meaningful conversations during those hangouts, but we don’t. We don’t have much in common anymore at all, really.
“She also called romance novels filth,” he points out.
“I know. She can be a bit of a snob. And then there’s the whole Hunter thing.”
“Can I ask…is it hard being friends with someone who’s dating your ex?”
