Page 72 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

Cullen raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Work stuff, huh? You’ve been staring at your phone like it’s about to explode.”

I didn’t answer. How could I explain that I was confused, hurt, and completely out of my depth? How did I admit I might have feelings for her, real feelings, and that I have no idea what to do about it? Instead, I just shrugged, staring out the window as the plane taxied down the runway.

“Alright, alright, but you’re not allowed to sulk at my bachelor party,” he said. “Please. If you start crying, I’ll start crying, and then no one will have any fun.”

I smirked. “I promise no tears.”

We were soon in the air and Carol, the flight attendant, came around. “Gentlemen, would you like to start with a drink?”

Marcus leaned forward, his grin widening. “Is it too early for champagne? I mean, it’s a celebration, right?”

Cullen glanced at me, eyebrows raised in question. “What do you say, Kaisen?”

“According to sky law, it’s never too early for champagne,” I said, nodding at Carol. “Break out the good stuff.”

She smiled and nodded back. “A round for everyone?”

“Please and thank you,” I said.

She made quick work of the task and handed out champagne flutes.

“Feel free to pour one for yourself, Carol,” I said. “Or take a bottle home with you.”

“You’re the boss.” She smiled and headed back to the galley.

“Hell yeah,” Marcus cheered, addressing us. “This is what I’m talking about. Private jets and champagne on demand? Kaisen, you’ll spoil us.”

Liam held his glass up in a toast. “Here’s to living like billionaires for the weekend. Cheers!”

I raised my glass and clinked it against theirs, but my mind was still elsewhere. The champagne tasted like nothing as I sipped it, the bubbles fizzing against my tongue but failing to lift my mood.

Cullen nudged me with his elbow. “You’re supposed to enjoy this, man. Don’t be a downer.”

“Just taking it all in. Got mental checklists and all that.”

“Taking it in? Dude, you’re zoning out like you’re at a funeral,” Marcus quipped, leaning back in his plush seat. “This is supposed to be fun. Bachelor party prep, remember? No moping allowed.”

Thankfully, they all got to talking about some new movie they wanted to watch. I turned my attention to the window. There was nothing to see but endless blue sky.

This was why I vowed to never fall in love. It was never reciprocated, was it? I just proved myself correct. Love was bullshit. Cullen got lucky, but that was basically asking lightning to strike the same place twice.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

I was happy for Cullen. But he and I were very different. Cullen was the type to settle down and have three kids that lived in a house with a white picket fence and a golden retriever.

That was not my style.

And it never would be.

The flight to New York was short and easy. An SUV was waiting for us. The four us of piled in, with me taking the front passenger seat. I knew it wasn’t exactly normal, but I didn’t want to be in the back being forced to make small talk.

We headed straight to the tailor for our tux fittings. The tailor greeted us warmly as we walked in.

“Right on time, Cullen,” he said. “Let’s get you fitted first.”

Cullen followed him into the fitting area, leaving Marcus, Liam, and me to wait. Marcus was already flipping through a catalog of cufflinks, muttering to himself about “upgrading” his look. Liam was scrolling through his phone, no doubt posting something about the trip.

I sat down in one of the plush chairs and debated pulling out my phone. Part of me didn’t want to see the empty notifications screen again. But another part of me—the part that refused to give up—hoped there would be something from Dorie. A text, a call—hell, even an accidental butt-dial would’ve been something.