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“Elise asked me to marry her.”
Elise was her girlfriend of two years. Her secret girlfriend. While they’d been privately together, I’d gone with Farrah to dinners and events that required a date. Even my mother thought and hoped there could be something between us.
“We’re getting married,” she added. “On Saturday.”
“Saturday? As in six days from now?” I asked. “That’s fast.”
“Yes.” Farrah was a lawyer. Direct and to the point. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. There’s a problem.”
“Okay.”
“I assume you haven’t been online.” Now she sounded nervous.
“No. Where should I look?”
She gave the name of a local Denver social site that provided more gossip than fact. It didn’t cover the news as much as people. Page Six type articles crossed with shady tabloids.
“I don’t follow that shit.” I didn’t even want to check it out. I didn’t follow rumor and speculation.
“Well, you should. We’re in it. A photographer saw my ring and assumed I’m engaged. That’s true and all, but he also made the assumption that the groom is you.”
“What?” I ran my hand through my hair, the hair that was all tousled from Bridget’s fingers. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I first called to let you know Elise proposed. Then I called you to tell you we set the wedding date as soon as possible. You know, so my father won’t have much time to fuck with me.”
Her father and mine had been best friends. Assholes together for decades. We also had that in common, dicks for dads. Except mine didn’t bother me any longer, thank fuck.
“But then things blew up.”
I’d known Farrah all my life. We’d been friends growing up, and I’d been her confidant when she told me she was gay the winter break of our freshman year in college. Her family wouldn’t be accepting or understanding of her sexuality and so she’d kept it a secret.
I’d kept it a secret for her. With her.
“Surprise,” she said, not sounding the least bit excited. “We’re getting married.”
No wonder my mother had left four voicemails since last night.
To the world, I was engaged and about to wed. It was a fucking nightmare.
37
BRIDGET
* * *
The front door opened, then slammed shut with enough force for the dishes to rattle in the cabinets.
“Bridge!” Mallory yelled. “BRIDGE!”
I ran out of the kitchen, Lindy hot on my heels. Ever since our little heart-to-heart earlier, things were better between us. Not in any tangible way, but it was… lighter. I didn’t feel like I had to prove myself to her now.
Mallory’s breaths were ragged as if she sprinted from her house. Eyes wide, she looked panicked. Wild.
“What?” I asked, a little panicked. I didn’t remember Mal like this before. “What happened?”
“He’s getting married,” she said.
I glanced at Lindy, who shrugged.
