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I wouldn’t be okay with it, I wouldn’t be happy with it, and I couldn’t be friends with him.
Not now that I knew what it was like to be more than that with him.
Not that I was. I didn’t know what we were. I didn’t want to think about it being more than friends, because it was fucking ridiculous. It’d been a week. Granted we’d spent almost every waking second together over the last week and we had a long history, but that didn’t mean that the way I was feeling was normal.
It wasn’t.
It scared me.
I was telling myself it was all down to the castle and the wedding and all the magic things surrounding us. I mean, it was right out of a movie, wasn’t it? A snowy Scottish castle, a future duke, a chaotic wedding… It was literally the makings of a love story.
But a week?
No.
I was insane.
I was slowly losing my mind, and despite how I was feeling, I couldn’t wait to go home on Monday. I was smart enough to recognise that I needed some space, some separation from this situation I was in, in order to work through how I really felt.
I just had to get there without completely losing my mind.
“You have a face like a smacked arse,” Granny said, putting a glass of wine in my hand and sitting in the chair next to me. “It’s a wedding. Smile.”
“She can’t. She’s too grumpy,” my brother said, leaning over the back of my chair.
I reached up and smacked him. “You’re a brat.”
Granny eyed him. “Did you bring your mother over here with you?”
My chair rocked as Vincent laughed. “I’m not that stupid. She’s trying to network.”
“She’s trying to set you up with someone, you mean,” I retorted. “Find you a nice suitable wife.”
Granny snorted. “Don’t date whoever she suggests, then.”
“Granny,” I warned her.
“No shit,” Vincent said. “I don’t think she’s actually doing that. I think she’s just scared of Olive.”
The woman in question preened.
I shifted and looked up at my brother. “Is that why you’re really over here? So Carmen will give you a break?”
“Noooo,” Vincent said, scanning the room in that shifty way teens did when they were looking for an escape. “I’m spending time with my favourite sister.”
“I’m your only sister, and no. The last time you did that willingly was when you were four and I had the TV remote.”
“Actually, it was last year when I bought you lunch.”
“That was a bribe to buy you alcohol,” I reminded him.
“If she won’t, I’ll do it,” Granny interjected. “I’ll take free food.”
I sighed. “I did it. Whose house do you think he drank it at?”
Vincent laughed. “I had to cut her grass for six months.”
“I warned you beforehand. If anyone threw up, you were on lawnmower duty.” I shrugged. “Why are you loitering? Do you not have anyone to speak to?”
