Page 6 of Versions Of Us

Henley clears his throat, eyebrows raised in apprehension. “Oh yeah?”

“Come on, man. Say you’ll do it. I’m not asking anyone else.”

He nods. “Of course. I’d be honoured.”

He steals another glance at me and though I’d never admit it to anyone, I melt.

Honoured? I’ve seen many sides to Alex Henley. Fun-loving party animal, dark and brooding, and in rare quiet moments, sweet and sensitive. But this right here, is new.

“I’m happy for you, EJ. Really,” he says, a seriousness lacing his tone. “This is great news.”

“Really? This isn’t weird for you?” EJ throws him a sceptical glance.

We all know what EJ is referring to when he asks this question. Henley’s parents had never instilled much faith for him in happy marriages. Nor had they ever set a true example of what a happy couple looks like, hence my oversight when it came to Henley’s lack of romantic advances. Their constant bickering and arguing finally ended in a messy divorce about two and a half years ago and then one night, over about fifteen beers, Henley had sworn off ever getting married himself.

“Really. Come on. If anyone can make it work, it’s the two of you,” he says, taking another sip of his beer and then placing it down on the worn-out table with a clunk. “Besides, if I’m best man I get to plan the best part.”

Liv’s eyes narrow in suspicion as she glances at me, while EJ begins shaking his head, his thumb and forefinger coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No, dude.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“The bachelor party,” Henley answers.

Liv and I both exchange a look and groan simultaneously before breaking out into laughter.

“I don’t want anything crazy,” EJ interjects. “We’ll have a poker night or something. Just the guys.”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Henley says sarcastically with a mischievous wink.

“Anyway,” I interrupt, slamming my palms on the table in front. “First things first. When are we having an engagement party?”

Chapter 2

HENLEY

“What’s up, little brother?” My sister lays a hard, playful slap on my chest as she shoves past me through the door to my house, her stilettos clattering on the wooden floor.

“Hey, Katie. Why, yes of course. Come right on in,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.

She scoffs at my sarcastic remark, helping herself to my refrigerator. “Geez, where is all the food? Please tell me you aren’t living purely off Coco Pops and beer.”

That was insult number one and I know she has a quota to fill. She has at least four more of those in her before she leaves me alone.

“It’s grocery day,” I say. “Actually, this isn’t a great time. I was just on my way out.”

This is a lie, but I’d rather be anywhere else than be subjected to my sister’s mockery.

“What’s wrong? You don’t have time to talk to your big sister anymore?” She closes the refrigerator door then straightens, smoothing out her skirt.

“Quit with the big sister bullshit. You’re literally only twenty-five minutes older than me.”

Katie and I are twins. We share the same sandy blonde hair colour and blue eyes but that’s about where the similarities end. Our personalities are miles apart. Katie is driven, ambitious and smart.

And I’m not.

“I’m showing an open house down in Little Bay. Thought I’d stop by and …”

“Torture me?” I interrupt her, my eyebrows shooting toward my hairline.

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