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When he drops me off at the front entrance of my dorm, he wastes no time asking for my number. I rattle it off without giving it a second thought, and then I make my way upstairs and wash up for bed before he has a chance to kiss me. I’m not sure if he would have tried, but I didn’t want to risk it seeing as how I was puking my guts up mere hours ago.
Crawling under the covers, I replay the past several hours in my head. Despite only spending a handful of hours around Jude, something about him put me at ease. It felt like I was spending time with someone I’d known my whole life. By the end of our time together, I’d almost forgotten about the humbling way our paths crossed.
I close my eyes, nuzzle against my pillow, and take a deep breath.
All things considered, tonight wasn’t half bad.
My thoughts drift away one by one, fading into the early morning hours, but before I’m out completely, I think about Stone.
Maybe I’ll run into him again one of these days.
Chapter Six
Stone
* * *
“Hey, Stone.” Stassi answers Jude’s door in a baby blue satin robe, her hair twisted into a terry cloth towel. She holds the lapels together with her left hand, her giant engagement diamond glinting on the late afternoon sun. “Jude’s just finishing up a Zoom. Come on in.”
She slinks to the kitchen in her feathery house slippers, looking like some heroine from a vintage James Bond film.
“You want a beer while you wait?” she asks, reaching for the fridge. “I think we have some IPAs …”
“Nah, I’m okay.” I take a seat on one of the bar stools, pull out my phone, and tend to a couple of emails. Jude’s a talker and there’s no telling how long it’ll be until he’s done with his car.
“You excited for the wedding?” she asks.
“Probably not as excited as you are.” My voice is monotone, and I don’t look up from my screen.
“It’s going to be weird for you, isn’t it? Your best friend’s going to be married and you’re still …” her voice trails. Ever since she tried introducing me to her college sorority sister a couple years back, she’s been bitter about it not working out. She even went so far as to tell me I’m a waste of a perfectly good bachelor—intelligent, attractive, successful. She then went on to prattle off a list of all the women she knew who would jump at the chance to be with me—as if that was a compelling enough reason for me to throw all of my personal convictions out the window and settle down.
I told her I’m not her pet project and I don’t need to chain myself to another human being to feel fulfilled.
“If anything, it’ll be weirder for Jude,” I say. “He’ll be married and his best friend’s still living the good life.”
Stassi frowns. Or at least she tries. I’m assuming the fresh Botox makes it challenging.
“They say people grow apart from their friends after they get married,” she says, twisting the ring on her finger. “And it’ll be especially hard after we start our family … Jude’s not going to have as much free time as he has now.”
“Jude has free time?” I ask. “Since when?”
Stassi’s got his schedule so booked out with dinners, double dates, and influencer-style travel excursions, that I have to reserve him months in advance. He’s harder to get into than a Michelin star restaurant in Paris.
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t deny I have a point.
Silence settles between us, and I half-expect her to mosey back to her room to put some clothes on or dry her hair, but she stands there. Planted. Staring at me from the other side of their marble island.
“Jude said you talked to his ex?” Her question sounds rehearsed, as if she’d been holding it in all this time, waiting for a chance to ask.
“I didn’t talk to her,” I say. “I messaged her on Facebook.”
“Do you believe her about the NyQuil?” she asks.
My gaze flicks up from my phone screen. “Does it matter?”
She lifts a lanky shoulder to her ear before letting it drop. “I just think it’s weird, is all.”
“Maybe try not to think about it at all.”
Stassi huffs. “Easy for you to say. She’s not the ex of the person you’re about to spend the rest of your life with.”
“True.”
“I just think it’s really messed up what she did.” Stassi grabs a bottled Fiji water from the fridge before returning to her post. “I mean … who does something like that?”
“Are you really that threatened by it?”
She uncaps her water. “No. I’m not threatened. It’s just weird that she’s trying to insert herself into our life all of a sudden … five years later … two months before our wedding.”
