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He held a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “You’re saying I’m not special?”
“Lear, you’re the farthest thing from special.” It felt wrong coming out of my mouth, but that was exactly why I needed to say it. When our bodies weren’t connected, when his hands weren’t on me, it was easier to know what to do.
His cocky smile fell for a split second, though maybe I imagined it. Before I could think too much about it, he glanced across the rooftop at a group of kids screaming. “Sure. No problem.”
I looked away from him, taking in the sight of the other patrons, families and couples lounging in the sun. “What about you? You said Lear is a nickname. Nickname for what?”
“Can’t tell you.”
I cut my eyes back to his. “Why not?”
He smirked and pushed back from the table in a fluid movement, holding a hand out to me. “Only special people get to know.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, brushing chip crumbs off my clothes. I should have expected him to say that, but it still stung. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs.”
I started to walk past him toward the bar’s exit when his hand brushed my wrist. “You’re not even going to say goodbye?”
“I thought ‘I’ll see you’ was sufficient.” We walked together into the lobby and hurried through the already open elevator doors. When they closed, we were alone. “You don’t have to tell me about the name.”
Lear stepped closer, backing me gently against the wall of the elevator car, and his hands fell to my waist. I had that feeling again, the one where I wanted him to kiss me against all reason. Instead, he spoke. “I chose to be in a production ofKing Learin high school instead of going out for football. Nickname stuck.”
“You were a theater kid? I guess that tracks. What with the musicals and all.”
“Hamiltonis a wildly popular show,” he insisted. “And I’m named after my dad’s father, Richard, who ended up being kind of a dick. I like Lear better.”
The elevator dinged with each passing level as we neared my floor. I rested a palm on his chest, surprised at the honesty, the lack of sarcasm or playfulness. “Lear it is, then.”
We stood near the mirrored wall, bodies tucked together, swaying in a sort of dance. His gaze fell to my lips again. “RJ it is,” he murmured. “I’m glad I joined you on the roof.”
“I’m glad, too.” I was a few moments from pushing the emergency stop button and challenging him to go as fast as he could again, but reason took hold. “I’m not saying goodbye, because I’ll see you downstairs in—” I glanced at my watch.
“Thirty-three minutes,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.
“Show-off.”
Chapter 28
Lear
THE NEXT DAYstarted out so well. The wedding preparations were in full swing, vendors arrived on time, and there hadn’t been a single hiccup, which should have prepared me for a major one.
I pushed a thumb between my eyebrows, surveying the small group of people gathered in the bridal suite. The destination wedding on the Outer Banks was small, and about fifty people sat on the beach outside, enjoying a beautifully timed sunset that would have aligned with the couple sayingI do.
I’d been looking for the best man but gotten distracted when RJ smiled at me from where she was checking things at the makeshift altar. The breeze blew her curls, and the warm glow from the sun made her skin even more tempting to kiss and taste. I was imagining the feel of her lips when the bride’s dad pulled me into the bridal suite, his mouth in a firm line.
This isn’t good.
The bride sobbed into her mother’s shoulder, and her father paced, the slight man looking like a caged animal. “How could he do this?”
“I don’t know, honey,” the mother of the bride said, stroking her daughter’s hair.
“I’m gonna kill him,” her dad muttered, fists at his sides. “I’m going to chop off his balls.”
The groom had shown up, taken pictures with his attendants, and then left, texting that he couldn’t do it. I might have killed him, too. The young bride’s choked, hysterical cries filled the room, and I didn’t let myself connect with what she was feeling, because as much as I thought I was getting emotionally untwisted, seeing her this raw left me feeling like my skin was scraped and bleeding. I made a mental checklist of tasks I would handle.
Notify the DJ.
Have hotel staff take down monogrammed decorations.
