Cade shrugs. “Hard to forget two ridiculously good-looking twin brothers who come at you from both sides.”
Madison stares at the brothers. “You were the cheese in their why choose sandwich. My dream,” she says wistfully.
“Why? Why do you always have to take it too far, sis?” Cade's cringing as he looks at his sister. Meanwhile, Dash is wrapping his arm around her chair, dragging her closer.
Good. That means I can ignore them and focus on the only interesting thing in the room. Still talking to Chris, her head tips back, and that laugh—herlaugh—rings out over the wedding small talk. My pulse spikes, my blood boils.
No one makes Honeycomb laugh but me.
Not anymore.
That’s when my mind stops working and my body takes over.
Every muscle in me tightens, and I instinctively push my chair back, the legs scraping against the hardwood in a way that makes half the table glance up.
“Where are you going?” Madison asks, feigning innocence even though she’s been baiting me all night.
I smirk, finally dragging my gaze away long enough to answer. “Where do you think I’m going?”
Madison squeals. Dash mutters something under his breath. Cade just shakes his head.
I’m already moving down the other side of the table; my gaze locked on Honey because she’s mine. She just forgotten for a quick second.
Chris leans in again, the idiot is really trying hard tonight. She hasn’t noticed me yet, she’s too busy smiling at him.
My fists clench. My jaw tightens.
Smile all you want, Honeycomb.
You’ll forget he’s even sitting there soon.
Six months
I haven't seen Zach in six months, and I haven't dated him in over a year and a half, yet somehow, he still has a way of making me feel like I'm the only person in the room.
What the hell was the point of breaking things off with him in the first place?
He's still all you think about.
You still want him.
I shake my head and straighten my shoulders, trying to push aside my wayward thoughts. Then I turn my attention to Thatcher.
“I’m just saying,” he says to Reese and Mike. “If Southern Collegiate really wanted to make me feel welcome, they could’ve given me a better spot on the team.”
Reese smiles into his beer. “You have a freaking building named after your grandfather. How much more welcoming do they need to be?”
“I’d like a first line kind of welcoming,” Thatcher retorts.
Mike rolls his eyes and groans. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Why is everyone so hell-bent on using that word with me?”
I smile at the three of them, pretending to listen, but it’s hard when I can feelhiseyes on me.
You're not good enough.
You spent all this time searching for something, and what have you got to show for it?
