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“I know weddings aren’t your thing.” She beams. “But I’m thrilled to have you as my maid of honor.”
“Well, don’t expect any sappy speeches from me.”
“I won’t. I’m just glad you’ll be there to celebrate with us.”
I click my tongue. “You’re lucky I love you and my brother enough to suffer through this.”
Kate nudges my shoulder with hers. “I’m beyond lucky.”
“Enough with the sentimental stuff—can we order dessert?”
“Yes, please.” She bites her lip, hesitating. “Shouldn’t we wait for Arthur and Rob?”
“They’re on their own. I need some chocolate cake. Stat.”
Kate laughs and waves to the waiter. She places the order for our dessert while I nurse my wine.
I should apologize to Rob. He’s right; I don’t know anything about his life or his job. For years, I’ve kept such a distance between us, it’s hard not to be defensive.
What worries me most is this lingering concern for him. I don’t want to think about Rob. I sure as hell don’t want to worry about him. But I do.
Fuck. Years of erecting this perfectly structured wall around my heart, and now I’m trying to climb over it for a better view.
Rob and I aren’t friends. I doubt we ever will be. If I ever open the door to that possibility, it will only be a matter of time before I find myself falling head over heels for him. Again.
I try to convince myself I never loved Rob. It was just a stupid, silly teenage crush. There was never anything between us, and there never will be.
I’m not interested in anything longer than a one-night stand, and Rob’s not that kind of guy. He’s a respectable doctor and a compassionate man. We have nothing in common and no future.
The waiter places a decadent piece of chocolate cake on the table in front of me. My mouth waters. It’s a temptation, just like Rob. One taste will never be enough.
Ignoring the turmoil churning inside me, I indulge in the cake, knowing it won’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Chapter Six
Rob
Regret hangs over me like a specter as I make my way through the restaurant.
I shouldn’t have snapped at Marcy like that. But my restraint was already cracked, and having her beside me put unbearable tension on the weak points. There’s no reason for me to take my shitty mood out on my friends. Shit, I’m an asshole.
After the day I’ve had, seeing her happy and healthy beside me should have infused me with gratitude. Instead, it unleashed a torrent of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Memories of Marcy covered in blood, sobbing in Arthur’s arms, her struggle to find herself again after that asshole tore her apart. The rage resurfaced with a vengeance, and I wasn’t prepared for the fallout.
Then she looks at me with those intoxicating eyes, and I’m lost. I want nothing more than to kiss her senseless and drag her back to my place. I want to make sure she’s loved thoroughly for the rest of her fucking life. She deserves it.
But it doesn’t matter. I could be the last man on the planet and Marcy would reject me.
Still doesn’t give me the right to bite her head off for teasing. Fury curls like a ball in my chest, pressing on my sternum.
There’s an empty spot at the bar. I take it and flag down the bartender. I’ve already had two glasses of wine. I know better than to compound my misery by dousing it with more alcohol.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.
“Tonic water.”
He arches his brow in surprise but pours me the drink. My gaze is lost in the small bubbles floating to the top of the glass.
“What the hell was that?” Arthur’s admonition echoes behind me.
