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“Careful,” my cousin Jake warned from the platform facing mine at the formal menswear shop downtown. The seamstress preparing to measure my pantleg glanced over her shoulder at him. Jake smirked at me. “That’s the closest a woman’s ever come to his junk—there’s no telling what might happen.”
I gave Jake the finger as he cackled at his own joke. “Ignore him,” I told the poor seamstress, who shook her head, trying to suppress a smile as she whipped out her measuring tape.
“You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that one? It’s the same thing every time we get a group of boys like you in here. At least be original.”
Over on the loveseat facing the platform where Jake and I were both getting our measurements taken sat Owen—whose suit was already tailored and hanging in his closet—and his college friend, Xander, whose laugh was even louder than Jake’s. We’d only been here for twenty minutes, and it appeared Jake and Xander were having an unspoken contest to out-asshole each other.
“Don’t make me call Sarah up and tell her I’m firing half of our wedding party,” Owen said.
I remained still as the seamstress stretched her measuring tape from the crotch of my pants to the hem. “You’d better not take away my chance of hooking up with a bridesmaid,” Xander said, resting a foot on the driftwood coffee table in front of him. He nudged a menswear catalog out of the way with his black boot.
“All of Sarah’s bridesmaids are married women,” Owen said.
Xander shrugged like this was a trivial detail he could work around.
Owen sighed. “I promise there will be plenty of single women there. Loads of teachers. Sarah literally made it an open invitation to her entire staff.”
As I watched Xander’s eyebrows raise in curiosity, I thought to myself—I’ve got to keep this guy away from Kendall. Though I was quite secure in my heterosexuality, I couldn’t deny Xander had that whole “tall, dark, and handsome” thing going on. He was a real charismatic asshole, and wasn’t that exactly what women tripped over themselves for?
Damn it.
But maybe I could steer him in another direction. Shift his focus elsewhere.
“Hey, wait,” I said, holding still as the seamstress measured my waist. “Are you the Xander that—shit, I can’t remember her name. The redheaded librarian, I think she mentioned you.”
“Yeah?” he answered, putting his foot back on the floor. He rocked his knee from side to side, concentrating on my face. “What’d she say?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that she knew you.”
“Fascinating story, my guy,” he said. Jake shook with laughter, and the seamstress measuring his arms asked him to hold still.
I sighed, getting annoyed. I really hated this guy. “I mean, she was smiling when she talked about you. Is she just a friend, or—?”
Xander shook his head, glancing at Owen. “She’s just—Abigail.”
Hearing that name made Owen’s eyes widen. “Oh, right. I should’ve known when he mentioned the red hair.” He pushed against Xander’s shoulder with his closed fist. “I mean, she’s single right now, isn’t she?”
“Think so,” Xander answered, turning back to me. “And she’s all yours.”
“Oh, I’m not interested in—” I paused as the seamstress measured my chest, her head a little close to mine. “That’s not why I was asking.” Clearly, there was some kind of history between Xander and that librarian, but he wasn’t going to share it with the class.
He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, who else? I’m gonna start looking these babes up on the school website. Grissom, right?”
Owen and I exchanged glances as Xander pulled out his phone.
“Those teachers like to get dirty, from what I hear,” Jake said, winking at his brother. Owen inhaled, glaring at Jake—he was getting closer and closer to firing his wedding party every second, it appeared.
A second later, it dawned on me Jake might have been talking about Kendall—not Sarah. Maybe both. Either way, Owen would know.
I was struggling to push that thought out of my mind when Xander sat up a little straighter. “Here we go. Lookie there, it’s Principal Lavely—soon to be Principal Gardner.” He lifted his eyebrows at Owen. “And—holy shit, is this kindergarten teacher going to be there?”
He didn’t have to say anything—I already knew. And Owen’s blank stare when Xander flipped his phone around to show him confirmed it—he was talking about Kendall. Xander must not have been aware of Owen’s past with her, so it couldn’t have been very serious. Still, there was some hesitancy in Owen’s eyes as he said, “Well—"
“Ms. Kendall Devin,” Xander interrupted, turning his screen back around and zooming in on her headshot. “She is...” Instead of finishing the sentence, he let out a low whistle and flashed the “okay” sign, punctuating the gesture with a click of his tongue.
Both of my hands were clenched into fists. “Relax your arms, baby,” the seamstress told me.
“She’ll definitely be there,” Owen said. “Just—please—don’t.”
