Page 50 of L.O.V.E

Martin didn’t back down, not right away. His tongue dragged along his bottom lip. He sneered. Looked at me. Looked at Cole. Then released my arms, throwing his own up in surrender as he backed away.

His cheek shone crimson where I’d hit him. He took a breath, then another. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

He ducked his head and turned back toward Lacey’s door, where Victoria stood shooting me a lethal glare.

“You okay?” Cole whispered, gruff and shaky.

I looked over his shoulder. Martin and Victoria were gone. “I’m fine.”

He stared long and hard, unconvinced but seemingly unsure how to proceed.

“I’m fine. Really.” Still pressed against the wall, I slunk away from the brooding man. Jesus. What was wrong with me?

I stood straight and announced, “I have to go do laundry,” then pressed the call button for the elevator.

Behind me, Cole huffed. “Natalie.”

I stared at the panel on the wall. “What?”

“Who’s the man you’re in love with?”

My shredded heart flapped in the breeze like tattered rags caught on a power line. He’d heard my conversation with Martin.

I opened my mouth to no avail. Thankfully, I didn’t have to lie because Cole cleared his throat and snapped, “Never mind. None of my fucking business.”

The elevator dinged.

Behind me, retreating footsteps.

On the ride up to my floor, I vowed to never again share space with Cole Adams. After the wedding, anyway.

Cole

Lacey’s dress was simple, playful almost with its plunging, heart-shaped top and a short, ridiculously puffy skirt. But what did that matter when she stood next to Ellis in his white tuxedo, and they both stood before Elvis, who wore a red Hawaiian shirt and drawled about love and honor, and ’til death do you part? The whole setup was ridiculous, and perfect.

Martin even fit in, standing next to Ellis, donning pressed khaki shorts and his Avanti palm tree button-up.

Natalie, however, put everyone in the small chapel to shame, including the bride. Her face was flawless, shades of pink dusting her cheeks. Her lashes, darker than normal, framed a haunting set of eyes that shimmered with emotion. Her glasses were tinted yellow with thin gold frames that matched her shoes. Her rosy lips quivered, three times that I’d counted, before her smile, that damn beautiful smile, took charge.

Her hair was pinned back on both sides, the rest coiled in soft, touchable curves that fell down her bare back. The strapless, pale yellow dress hugged breasts that teased of spilling over the silky fabric. The skirt hung to just above her knees in a loose drape that would be easy to lift were she bent over a chair, or a desk, or…fuck. What the fuck was I doing?

I squeezed Victoria’s hand.

She leaned closer, rested her head on my shoulder, and whispered, “God, Cole. I can’t wait for our wedding day.”

Fuck, my unfaithful heart. “Maybe we should elope, too. You know, while we’re here. Skip all the fanfare and just be man and wife.”

“That’s not even a little bit funny, Cole. All the time I’ve put into making our wedding perfect.”

I was painfully aware of all the time stolen from us. I missed my Vic. Missed being a couple. I was jealous of my own fucking upcoming nuptials. However, my best friend’s wedding wasn’t the time or place to vomit my concerns. “I’m sorry.”

Victoria shifted, crossed her tan legs, pulled her cell out of her clutch and thumbed through the multiple texts spanning her screen.

I forced my eyes forward and focused on the back of Ellis’s head, ignoring Vic’s rude behavior and avoiding another glance at the temptress standing next to Lacey.

“Hey.” An elbow dug into my ribs. “The girls just landed. How long is this going to take? They want to meet us at the club.”

Biting back profanities, I waited three breaths, then whispered, “You invited your friends? Seriously?”

---