A loud bark of laughter causes me to tilt my head to him.
“I’m glad you pulled through that.”
Hearing the playful notes in his voice brings a coy smile to my face, and I like that he’s teasing me. “For a second there I wasn’t sure I’d make it.”
“You seem the type to be prepared for anything,” he says next to me on the grass.
My eyebrow shoots up. “And why would you assume that?”
“Well,” his head nods back to the bench I was sitting on, “You were taking notes in a park. So unless you’re a poet…”
“I was working on my To Do list.” I share with a face splitting smile. “I’ll have to add Research Panic Attacks now. Thanks for adding to my list.”
For a moment I think he’s going to say something, but when he doesn’t I feel the need to reassure him.
“I don’t mean that it’s a burden. I like learning new things. Actually, I love learning new things. So you actually did me a favor.”
His face lights up with an adorable smile, and he opens his mouth to say something again—
“Peyton! What are you doing here?” The guy I’m seeing, Mike, stops in his tracks. “Hey Wendell. I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“Oh hey man.” Wendell stands up and bro slaps Mike on the back. They both stare down at me for a second before both offering me a hand to get up.
And shit, if this doesn’t feel like the universe metaphorically asking me a question. It’s like my brain hasn’t caught up to the moment though, and I grab Mike’s hand and stand up. He was on my right side. He’s the one I know. It only makes sense. But I’m staring at Wendell the whole time, and I think I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes.
“Oh,” Wendell stumbles for an answer. “We don’t know each other. We just met actually. I had an issue with my water bottle and she helped me out.”
Mike’s too engrossed in me to realize how odd that sounded. He presses a kiss to my temple. “Well, doesn’t matter. You two were bound to meet, being my teammate and all. Wendell, this is my girlfriend, Peyton.”
I bite my bottom lip and stick out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Wendell shakes my hand and a jolt of electricity shoots through the warmth in his palm. It zings all the way up my shoulder and down my spine.
“This is perfect.” Mike hasn’t stopped talking. His optimism is something that drew me to him in the first place. “You guys will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m sure we’ll all be the best of friends.”
“Friends,” Wendell echoes, still locked on my gaze. But the word sounds different coming from his lips. “Can never have too many friends.”
Chapter 2
Wendell
Present Day
Not earth shattering by any means, but Peyton’s words became a mantra in my life. Though I’d never admit it out loud.Just breathe. That’s all you need to do right now.
Even right now, those words oddly give me incredible reassurance.
“So you’re the wedding planner?” I shoot her a soft smile. “That’s great.” I hug her. “I’m happy for you.” How she feels so natural in my arms also feels like some kind of betrayal to Mike, even though he passed away over a year ago now. I still can’t believe he’s gone. At the funeral, I offered her whatever she needed, but she never took me up on anything. And then it was best that I stayed away. I could pine for her in secret, but I would never be the asshole who swept in while she was still grieving and feeling vulnerable.
“Ya. Event planning is what I do, and somehow these two found me.” At her words, Brody and Zane exchange heart eyes with their SOs.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not planning Wendell’s wedding,” Pax jokes and I notice Peyton’s cheeks flush a little red. “Dude’s frugalas fuck. At least with these guys, they’re willing to spend their money.” Peyton chuckles at that, giving the brides a smile, and I think she mouths the words,Designer Gowns.
Brody slugs me in the arm just as Zane slings a hand over my other shoulder. “My guy just needs someone to spend it on. Am I right?”
I’m just staring at Peyton, recounting how many times I wanted to send her money over the last year but held back thinking it’d be inappropriate. I don’t know her finances, and I’m sure she’s fine. Besides, she would’ve hated the handout. She might plan charity events, but she hates being seen as a charity case. I just wish I’d done something after Mike passed away. Which brings on a whole onslaught of other guilt I feel. It hasn’t overwhelmed me on the daily, recently, but it used to suffocate me.
Survivor’s guilt. Fuck that shit.
