Page 19 of Ex's & Oh's (The Lucky Girls 1)

But Jenna doesn’t once make eye contact with me, and she’s careful only to talk to me when I ask her a direct question. I run out of things to ask very quickly—there's only so much I can ask without it becoming obvious that I'm asking for her attention.

She’s being polite for Stacey’s sake. And the others don’t pick anything up. But I can feel her disdain for me. I can feel how much she doesn’t want to be close to me. Her hatred is like ice on my skin.

And I want to change that. Because the more I watch her laugh, the more I listen to her speak, the more I want to start over with her. I want to know what she’s been doing her whole life. I want to know who she is now.

She’s the one person Noah and I never talk about. What’s there to say? He chose a different path than the one they planned together, and there’s nothing to it. He moved on ages ago. It's so far in the past, it's ancient history. At least, to me and him.

I'm not sure if it is to her.

When it’s Marc’s turn to buy a round of drinks, I walk with him to the bar again.

“I want to make things right with Jenna,” I say to him while we wait for the drinks.

He’s more than tipsy, swaying a little. I’m willing to bet he never drinks, and that this might be his first night out of the season. And it’s almost over.

“What’s there to make right?” he asks. He's slurring a little.

“She hates me, man.”

Marc shakes his head. “Whatever you do, don’t cause shit, okay? I need everything to be fine for the wedding. Stacey needs it, so I need it. Got it?” He glares at me as best he can. The effect is watered down when he stumbles a little even though we're not moving.

I nod. “I’m not looking for shit. But I think I’m going to talk to her.”

“I don’t think you should,” Marc says. “She looks pissed whenever you talk to her. I've seen Jenna pissed off—you don't want to be on the receiving end of that."

I shrug. He’s right. She's a storm, crackling in the air when she's angry. I've been the object of her wrath before. It's magnificent.But that’s why I want to talk to her. I want to make things right so that we can get along. For the sake of the wedding.

Sure, that’s what I’ll tell myself when I go to her and tell her that I want us to be friends. Hell, friends is the last thing I want to be with her. I want to get her horizontal beneath me and fuck her. I want to bite her bottom lip to see what she tastes like. I want to do all kinds of nasty things to her, things that I’ve been dreaming about for years.

But I can’t tell Marc that. Not without sounding like a sap. It’s never going to happen, anyway.

I just want her to stop scowling at me like I’m the villain. I was a dick to her before, sure. I couldn’t help myself. It was easier being an asshole to her than to be nice to her and let everyone know how I really felt. The last person I wanted to know how I felt about her was her. She was Noah's girl, and it's not done.

But he’s long gone, and we’re all adults now.

We can talk about the past like grownups and put this whole thing behind us.

I owe it to Jenna. And myself.

And to the whole wedding party, come to think of it.

I spot Jenna and Stacey at the edge of the deck, looking out over the ocean. The breeze blows her blonde hair over her shoulders and tugs at her dress. She rubs one hand down her arm, and I don't think she has any idea how sensual it is. She's so fucking sexy. And oblivious. Which only ads to it.

It’s now or never. I’ve already had a taste of never, and I don’t like it.

I clear my throat and walk to the girls.

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