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“Shit,” whispers Bailey.
So Andrew swings both ways. That’s… interesting.
Not that it’s all that interesting to me. Just interesting in the abstract. Go team queer, and all. My pulse trips, though that could easily be explained by proximity to Bailey. I can feel the heat where our thighs are pressed together in the booth. I thought I’d kept a polite distance when I first sat down but she’s close enough I can hear her whisper.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she says.
“Don’t worry about it, Ross,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder for a half-hug. “Your fake boyfriend and I might not have much to say to each other, but I got no problem keeping secrets. I won’t say anything.”
“It’s not a secret, exactly,” she says, looking miserable. “Drew’s been out since college. But please don’t say anything. I shouldn’t have.”
“I won’t.” A beat passes. I shouldn’t push my luck with her, but I’ve never been good at restraining myself with Bailey. “How is it that you and Hicks never got together? For real, I mean.”
“Hah.” Her laugh is forced, but I let it slide because she’s still tucked under my arm, leaning into me. “I met Drew the same year I met you.” Bailey takes a deep breath, tensing up all over again. “Later that summer, Drew introduced me to his brother, Alan.”
I vaguely remember Bailey having a boyfriend named Alan in college.
Then it registers. Alan was the guy she got engaged to a few months after she and I spent the night together.
I’d spent a sizable amount of energy hating that guy sophomore year, though I’d never seen him before in my life. Bailey’s clearly uncomfortable bringing it up with me, and that’s the last thing I want, so I focus on Drew instead.
“I guess that would be awkward,” I say. “Dating brothers and all.”
“Alan wouldn’t take it well,” Bailey says. “And Drew’s parents would freak.” Her tone makes it clear she’s downplaying just how bad the fallout would be.
“If that’s the only reason he’s not asking you out, Drew Hicks has even less of a functioning brain than I gave him credit for,” I say. Family’s important to some people, sure, I get that, but come on.
Bailey still looks miserable, whether it’s because we’re talking about her ex or for outing Drew, I can’t tell. I’m not ready to drop the subject yet, but maybe I can distract her.
“What happened with the fiancé?” I ask. “The other Hicks dickbag.”
Bailey downs half her beer before she answers.
“He called it off a few months after we got engaged,” she said, eyeing her glass. “Said we weren’t a good fit.”
“Cheating?”
Bailey shakes her head. “Not that I ever found out about. I suspected though.” She’s quiet again and I’m about to change the subject altogether when she speaks again. “He didn’t respect me, you know? It took me a long time to figure it out. Too long.”
I don’t know how anybody dates someone they didn’t respect, let alone propose marriage. But then, I can’t imagine getting married at all.
“My fatal flaw, I guess,” says Bailey. “You think by my third fiancé I’d have learned better.”
Hold up. I pause, my glass suspended in midair.
“Third engagement?”
Bailey looks mortified, her eyes pinned to the glass in her hand. She downs the rest of her drink and I’m quick to refill it from the pitcher on the table.
“Alan was the first,” she says. “Stephen came along a couple of years later. He was definitely cheating. And Peter… well, we just broke up.”
“Define just,” I say.
“He left about a month ago.”
Jesus. I try my best to hide my shock, because Bailey’s holding herself so stiffly I’m afraid she might break if I so much as look at her sideways right now.
“Bet you’re glad you knocked on this door,” Bailey says, her self-deprecating laugh shaky and thin. I squeeze her shoulders hard then pull back to look her in the eye.
