Page 141 of You're so Bad

“Next time try not to ask for medical advice at a social event,” I say, although I’m dying to know what he told the guy. Judging from the looks he’s getting, we all are.

“So—”

Melly raises her hand from my table in the back. She has a pinched look on her face. Maybe Grandpa Frank just cut the cheese. He’s been known to do that at inappropriate moments, and he usually blames someone else for it.

“Um, yes?” I say, because I was all about handing my microphone back to the DJ and taking Grandpa Frank up on his Texas Roadhouse suggestion.

“How come you got to bring two dates, when I didn’t even get a plus one?”

“I didn’t—”

Then my heart leaps, because I notice that she’s looking behind me.

I whirl around and see Leonard, dressed in a suit without the jacket, the white sleeves rolled up to show some of his tattoos. His eyes have circles under them, like he hasn’t been sleeping, and he looks so good I could positively consume him. He came.He came.

I wordlessly hand the microphone back to the DJ and take a step toward him. I hear people murmuring, but their voices are a shapeless buzz in my ears as Leonard and I make our way to each other, our eyes locked.

I take another step, and then I’m running, and so is he.

“You came,” I say as I charge into his arms, tears pricking at my eyes as he wraps me up in an embrace.

“Of course I did. I couldn’t not be with you on your birthday,” he says, running his hand up my back and through my hair. Then he pulls me back slightly so he can look at me. “I’m not going to jail, Tiger. I just found out, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. I meant what I said in my message last night. I’m trying. I’m still a mess. Maybe I’ll always be, but I love you, Shauna. I love you so fucking much. I thought I was doing the right thing by walking away, but Burke told me once that you’re the one who should have the choice. He was right about that.”

His words pound into me. He loves me. He texted me last night. He wants to be with me. I’m full of relief and love and elation. I run my hand down his cheek, then grip the back of his hair. “I love you too. Don’t you dare leave me for my own good again.”

I kiss him, and he kisses me back hard, his lips branding me, and in that moment I’m so wrapped up in him—and he in me—that it doesn’t matter that we’re here, at the edge of someone else’s wedding reception. We could be anywhere.

Then something cold is splashed onto our faces, and we break apart, gasping.

When I turn to look at who doused us, I’m expecting Bianca. But it’s Colter. He’s looking at Leonard, his eyes blazing. There’s an empty champagne glass in his hand.

“What the hell, man?” he asks in a furious undertone. “I told you not to come because Bianca’s worried about the cake. I thought we were bros.”

The voices of the crowd have cut back in, and everyone’s talking at once.

“I’m here because it’s Shauna’s birthday,” Leonard says, nudging me behind him. “You’re the one who figured it was a banner day to get married. Besides, you fucked around on my girl…” I step out to the side because I have the training to take someone down quickly if it comes to that. “We’re not bros. Not sure how you missed the message.” He taps his eye.

Colter growls something, and then he’s charging at Leonard. Leonard could have sidestepped him, but his first act is to push me out of the line of fire, so Colter slams into him.

Leonard falls backward—right into the cake table.

A shriek fills the air.

* * *

“I’ll betthe mourning dove shows up,” Josie mutters as all of us rejects head toward the parking lot together. It’s a small group of Josie, Grandpa Frank, Leonard, and me. Shelly’s the one who asked us to leave, although she did it nicely—her lips puckered with disapproval for her son, who “hasn’t been acting with half the sense God gave him.”

I disagree—I think he was acting withallthe sense God gave him—but I understand why Shelly would prefer to think otherwise.

“I was right about the cake,” Josie continues. “Maybe that bird will make a mess all over her head, and next time she’ll show more respect.”

“The cake was Colter’s fault,” I put in. “If he hadn’t shoved Leonard, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“The frosting tastes like shit,” Leonard says, squeezing my hand. “He did everyone a favor.” I wiped some of it off with a napkin before we got the boot, but it’s still encrusted all over the back of his head and the top of his arm. If it didn’t taste bad, I’d be tempted to lick it off.

“I don’t claim to see every detail,” she says, her voice sulky, “but I was mostly right.”

I sigh, glancing over my shoulder. We’re already too far to hear or see anything wedding related. “I really didn’t want to mess up the wedding.”

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