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Once we’re waiting for the bartender to fulfill our orders, Brady turns to his right, looking at Miles and me. “So, is there some new love connection I’m not aware of?”
I roll my eyes but remain tight lipped. I’d figured Miles hadn’t mentioned me taking Twyla to anyone because none of the guys had brought it up, but I won’t be the one to say anything.
“As if,” Miles says. “I’d break his fingers if he ever laid a hand on her.”
“You could try,” I say, hands flexing into fists at my sides.
“So, what gives?” Brady asks.
Miles shrugs. “I didn’t want Twyla sitting at home alone while everyone was at the gala. She’s still in a fragile state. Chase never brings anyone to these things, so I asked if Twyla could be his plus-one.” He stares down Brady. “You thought that it was a real date? Hell no.”
My lips press into a thin line. I know I’m not good enough for his sister, but it’s still not fun to hear it out loud in front of my buddies. I play it off though and nod in Miles’s direction. “What he said.”
“This way, Twyla can hang out with all the other women tonight and have fun and remember that she doesn’t need that worthless piece of shit in her life anymore,” Miles says.
“Seems like a recipe for disaster,” Brady replies.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“What do you mean?” Miles asks with a frown.
“Nothing, forget it.” Brady waves it off.
Before anyone can say anything else, the bartender pushes our drinks toward us, and we head back to join the women.
I hand Twyla her glass of wine and she looks at me with a smile that could melt a glacier as she says, “Thanks,” with more enthusiasm than a simple drink delivery requires. But that’s her, always dazzled by the simplest things.
Bryce makes an excuse to take off almost immediately, saying something about work, leaving Twyla and me with three touchy-feely couples.
Jesus, is this how it’s gonna be all the time from now on? Me being the seventh wheel as these guys try to keep their hands off their women?
Twyla must share my sentiment because she turns to me and says, “Want to go check out the silent auction?” The hopeful glint in her eyes tells me she’s had enough of playing voyeur too.
“Definitely.”
We say our goodbyes, but no one pays us much attention. They’ll be asking one another in five minutes where we ventured off to.
“Sorry if you wanted to stay and talk to the guys. I just couldn’t handle all the PDA anymore.” She looks over her shoulder at me as we worm our way through the tables.
“You’re saying that like you think I’m disappointed or something.”
“I know you’re not really into the auction. It’s just the only good excuse I could think of to get out of there.”
Once we’re through the tables, and without thinking better of it, I place my hand on the small of her back to direct her toward the auction tables. She stiffens when I touch her, so I drop my hand instantly.
I clear my throat. “I was happy to leave them behind. Believe me.”
Why can’t I remember to keep my hands to myself where she’s concerned? I give myself a mental smack as we approach the tables.
“You planning to bid on anything?” I ask Twyla as we walk down the row, looking over everything.
She looks up at me with a smile. “Not likely. I have a wedding to pay for.” When my forehead wrinkles, she explains. “We lost a lot of the deposit money when the wedding was called off, and I plan to pay my parents back for everything they’re out of pocket.”
What the hell?
While she keeps her smile in place, there’s a note of sadness in her voice, even if she does her best to cover it.
“The prick who screwed you over should be the one to pay your parents back.”
