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Things with Shae had been so good, so solid. Then, without any warning, she was gone. Not even a note, just the engagement ring he’d given her on his nightstand, along with her public collar. Two days later she’d texted to say it wasn’t going to work long-term, but didn’t answer him when he tried to open a dialogue. They’d run into each other a few times since then, but he’d kept it pleasant even though it was painfully awkward, even years later.
All of the wedding-planning talk with Banner and Kate had been a special kind of torture, taking Ambrose back to the talks he and Shae had about their own. Guest list, menu, flowe
rs—he could remember every detail they’d decided on. Two hundred guests, filet mignon, dahlias.
The ring he’d given to a homeless man downtown. The dress he’d returned to the store to reuse or dispose of. Sitting in the closet, the dress had mocked him, tempting him to unwrap it and wallow in the past. He’d asked Shae if she wanted them, but she’d never texted back.
Did she ever think of him with regret?
There was a knock at the door. Banner’s sister, Meadow, poked her head in to say Kate was ready.
As they filed out of the room, Ambrose did his best to straighten out his head along with his suit. Today wasn’t about him and his shit.
The afternoon was sunny and warm, with a slight breeze to keep them all from frying in their suit jackets. His hair ruffled, the sensation odd after having shaved it off for so long. Maybe when he went home, he’d have Everly buzz it for him. He could do it himself, but she’d do a better job. Plus, it was an excuse to see her again.
Ugh. He would not think about her sassy mouth and the way she gasped when he grabbed her by the hair. The last thing he needed was a boner as he stood in his best friend’s wedding.
Even though it was a destination wedding, there were still about a hundred guests. They’d wanted to keep it intimate, but between family and friends, the numbers had added up fast.
As he and the rest of the guys lined up at the front to wait for the bridesmaids to make their entrance, Ambrose scanned the crowd. Several attractive, single women were in attendance, but Everly outshined them all. A hot girl who could make him laugh was even hotter than regular hot.
He raised a hand to acknowledge their buddy Chris, who was baby-wrangling while his wife, Janine, stood as Kate’s matron of honor. Banner’s business partner, Belle, was there, too, with her wife, Shannon. Banner and Rook’s mother looked like a million bucks, and was sitting in the front row beaming at everyone.
Eventually, the violinist started to play, and the bridesmaids—Janine, Meadow, and Kate’s friend Bethany from work—processed down the sandy aisle, between the rows of chairs. How they walked so gracefully in the sand was a mystery. He knew for a fact he’d be finding somewhere to sit and empty his shoes at the end of the ceremony.
Kate appeared in a simple white shift dress. She wore her public collar, and her feet were bare. She was luminous.
Ambrose glanced at Banner, whose wide grin proved he wasn’t regretting a thing. After all the crap these two had put him through when they were being idiots, they’d damn well better make it work. And the reception dinner had better be fucking fantastic.
As the couple exchanged vows, rings, and kisses, Ambrose looked on, feeling guilty about his cynical thoughts. If anyone could stay married and happy, it was these two.
The day was a blur of standing, posing, and polite smiles. They behaved for the sake of the other guests, but at one point during the outdoor reception, Ambrose and Banner were forced to throw Konstantin in the ocean, after which he pelted Ambrose with wet sand. A melee ensued, which involved Banner jumping in and dragging Rook with him.
Later, the photographer said it was the most interesting photoshoot she’d ever done.
Dinner was delayed while they showered and changed. Luckily, Kate knew them well enough that she’d ordered them to come prepared with a second suit.
Ambrose and Konstantin were well on their way to being drunk when the first dance started. Kon ditched his girlfriends to meander over and sling an arm around Ambrose’s shoulders.
For a moment they watched in silence as Banner and Kate danced.
“He’s a lucky bastard.” Konstantin smiled and shook his head. “Remember how he used to think he’d never find anyone that suited him? And now look at him. Fucking married.” He put his beer bottle to his lips and tipped it back.
“I’m glad he pulled his head out of his ass and claimed her. They belong together.”
Konstantin gave him a long look, which involved substantial beer breath considering how close they were. “You, my friend, are an honorable man. How did you manage to keep your hands off her after he gave her to you? I might have lasted a day—but only if I was sick or something.”
Ambrose didn’t believe that for a minute. They all had a weakness for women—especially submissive ones—but there was no way Kon would have done things any differently if he’d been in Ambrose’s place. If he’d seen the way Banner and Kate had pined for each other, Kon wouldn’t have slept with Kate either. The three of them had been best friends since they were kids. They’d never betray one another.
Having Kate so close for so long, and the fact that they were compatible and she was on the rebound, had meant that Ambrose had spent a lot of quality time in cold showers. If Emmy Awards could be given for lying in a relationship, there would be one on his mantel. Ambrose had wanted her, but not like Banner did. Not like she was air and he was suffocating. You didn’t fuck with something like that—especially if one of the people involved was your best friend.
“This was meant to happen.” He sighed. “She wasn’t mine, and I knew that even if she didn’t.”
Konstantin hugged him, and Ambrose was glad he wasn’t in a wrestling mood tonight. Drunk and affectionate Konstantin was less exhausting than drunk and affectionately aggressive Konstantin.
“Ya tebya lyublyu, Ambrose.” Konstantin kissed his cheek. “I love you. Someday they’ll build a monument to you, and men will go there to ask for the strength not to fuck their best friends’ girlfriends.”
“Hopefully they’ll leave me interesting sacrifices.” Ambrose sipped at his own beer. Time to slow down a bit. He didn’t want to be the obnoxious drunk at this wedding and faceplant in the cake or do something else they’d never let him live down.
