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“You want to talk about this now?”
“I don't want to talk about it at all, but you came here to talk so you may as well get it out of your system.”
Radleigh fixed his eyes on me and I could tell he was trying to figure out the best way to win me over.
“I owe you an apology, Leah. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on Miguel. You were right, it wasn't fair.”
“You should apologise to Miguel, not me.”
“I already did, this morning. He was more understanding than he should have been after what I did to him.”
“Well, he’s pretty amazing that way.”
“I didn’t come to talk about Miguel though. I want to tell you the truth about what happened with Taylor.”
“A confession?”
“No, Leah, there's nothing to confess. The day she says I kissed her, I did see her. I wanted to talk to her with nobody else around. The truth is, she’s been following me for weeks. Every time I looked over my shoulder, she was there. I wanted to tell her once and for all that it had to stop.”
That was pretty much the opposite of what Taylor had told me. Same story, different perspective.
“I’m having trouble imagining you wanting to avoid a woman who is desperate to sleep with you.”
“Leah, she is nuts. Even I have limits.”
“So why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because she’s a kid. I thought she’d get bored of throwing herself at me. Instead, she kept showing up wherever I was like a creepy stalker.”
“And she was so distraught that day in the restaurant because …?”
“Because I told her there was no chance of anything ever happening between us. I know what you think of me, but even I have rules about not screwing around with my friends’ women.”
He sounded convincing enough, but there was something about it that didn't ring true. I couldn't shrug off all that Taylor had told me, and how upset she'd been just because McCoy made up a decent cover story. Whatever happened had only just unfolded when I found her in a quivering wreck. There wasn’t enough time for her to make up a lie that big and do it so convincingly.
But what if she did?
This was the wrong place to think about it. It was too confusing, and I’d had too much to drink to think it through rationally. Instead of stressing over what he may or may not have done, I wanted to enjoy myself.
“Leah, do you want to dance?”
I took in the romantic ballad that was playing, smiled sweetly and said, “Yes. But not with you.”
“But I'm the only one who's asking.”
“Well, what guy would be brave enough to ask me with you sitting beside me? I’m going to mingle.”
Even though I’d told Miguel I’d save slow dances for him, he’d insisted that I have at least one. ‘It’s a wedding,’ he said. ‘If someone asks you, accept. There will be plenty of other chances for us to slow dance.’
I started to stand up but McCoy caught my hand. “Please? One dance?”
“No.”
“Why not?” he challenged. “What are you afraid of?”
Oh, why does he believe he's irresistible? I tried to ignore the fact that he really did look incredible, and that, as Alison had pointed out, practically every woman in the room, single or otherwise was looking at him with lust in their eyes.
“I'm not afraid of anything, I just don't want to dance with you.”
