Page 72 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to bend you over this table in front of all these people and hike your dress up and show you how fucking possessive I can be.”

A shiver runs down her spine and she wets her lips. “You said it, not me.”

I shake my head at her antics.

“Now, you have to be honest with me about what you’re feeling.” I arch a brow at her. “Think you can do that?”

She pouts her bottom lip. “Yes.”

We’ve been sitting about ten minutes when Rosie comes hustling over, almost tripping on her dress. Sweat beads her skin and Daire hurries behind her.

“Daire just told me you might be in labor. Why didn’t you say something?” She pulls out a chair from the opposite table and scoots it beside Bertie.

“I’m not in labor,” she insists. I want to be wrong, but I think she’s being stubborn. “It’s normal for my body to prepare for birth and that’s all this is.”

Her face contorts with pain and without her saying a thing I start timing this one.

Rosie looks my way, and she looks like she believes Bertie about as much as I do.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to go to your hospital.” She rubs Bertie’s arm. “I don’t want you to stay here because of me.”

Bertie lifts her chin in the air. “I am not in labor at your wedding. I refuse. First babies rarely come early.”

Rosie meets my gaze and shakes her head.

“This is your wedding.” Bertie gives her best friend a nudge. “Go dance.”

Daire grabs the back of the chair Rosie sits in and leans forward. “We’re good right here.”

Bertie crosses her arms over her chest and looks away. I know she’s hating the fact that she’s taking attention away from their wedding day.

I time things for a bit longer before I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “B⁠—”

“Don’t fucking say it,” she harumphs.

“I have to say it.”

She shakes her head, steadfast. “Nope.”

“You’re in labor and I think you’ve been in labor all day.”

She glowers at me. “I have not.”

I bite my tongue. Now is not the time for her to think I’m calling her a liar. “Well, you’re in labor now and we need to go.”

Daire straightens. “Can I have your valet ticket? I’ll get your car brought around.”

Shoving my hand in my pocket, I grasp the slip of paper and hand it to him. “Thanks, man.”

“Do you want to use the bathroom before you go?” Rosie asks her. “I can help you.”

Bertie sighs like we’re all being completely ridiculous. “I can get there myself.”

“Well, lucky for you I need to go too.”

Rosie gives me a reassuring smile and mouths, “I’ve got her.”