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I swallowed hard. I was getting used to hearing Luna with that title, and I didn’t hate it. Not even a little bit.
A pit opened up in the bottom of my stomach as I thought about the ticking clock above my head. I had less than two weeks to keep pretending she was mine before we’d go back home and just be friends again.
I didn’t realize how much I hated that idea until now.
“When is the wedding?” Ezra asked, drawing me back to the table.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” I said, the lie rolling off my tongue a little too smoothly. But it felt like truth in my soul…we hadn’t set a date yet because we weren’t actually engaged, yet.
Fuck. A couple of kisses and I was ready to make that ring on her finger a reality.
Who was I kidding? I’d dreamed of a life with Luna long before we kissed, long before we played pretend. I’d never been able to act on it though, not while she was with her douchebag ex. And now…now things were complicated.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Ezra said, likely reading the distress all over my face. “Taking your time to figure out the right wedding and timing for you is the key to a great event.”
I smiled, shoving all the complicated emotions down. “I believe you,” I said. “You and Ava seem very happy.”
“We are,” he said. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t deserve her, but I try to every single day.”
I smiled at him. “To the women who make us better men,” I said, clinking my glass against his.
We shifted to small talk as we finished our lunch, and he let me pay after a quick check battle.
“See you at karaoke tonight?” he asked after we’d made it back to the resort.
“We’ll be there,” I said before he headed one direction and me the other.
And as I walked toward my and Luna’s room, I couldn’t stop the swell of pride in my chest at the thought of we and how damn good it felt to be paired with her in that way.
But it wasn’t real.
And the more I thought about that fact, the more I realized how truly fucked I was.
“Are you sure you don’t want to hop up there?” I asked Luna, motioning to Ezra and Ava who were currently crushing a song on the karaoke stage.
They’d converted the ballroom into a believable nightclub, and constructed a stage fit for even the most skilled karaoke aficionados. The space was coated in muted blue lights and the staff was weaving through all the crowded tables with snacks and drinks.
“Hell no,” Luna said, laughing before she took a sip of her drink.
“Oh come on,” I said. “We could do a duet.”
She shook her head. “You know I’ll listen to you sing all night,” she said. “But I’m not about to subject these lovely people to my voice.”
“I love your voice,” I said, which only made her laugh harder.
“You’re way too nice to me,” she fired back, clapping as Ezra and Ava finished their song and a new singer took the mic.
“I feel like I’m the appropriate level of nice,” I said.
“More than I’m used to,” she grumbled under her breath.
“I hate that,” I said before I could stop myself.
She arched a brow at me, but her eyes were soft, sad almost.
“It shouldn’t be that way, Luna,” I answered her silent question. “He should’ve treated you like a queen.”
Luna laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that—”
“I do,” I cut her off.
“I don’t need to be spoiled,” she said. “I just…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters,” I said, shifting so I was turned toward her and away from the stage. “What you want matters. What you need matters.”
“He told me for years that I asked for too much,” she said. “Hell, he’s still telling me that.”
“What?”
“He’s been texting non-stop,” she said.
“You’re fucking joking.”
“I wish I was,” she said, reaching into her pocket before handing me her phone. “See for yourself.”
I swiped open her phone, heading to her text messages. There were quite a few from Zoe, Lyla, and Anne, but I didn’t dare read any of those and headed straight for Dennis’s.
Dennis: You’re being unreasonable. You at least owe me a response.
Dennis: The shit you’re pulling is childish. I always told you how immature you could be. This is taking it to another level.
Dennis: I told you I was sorry. I want to make this work. I’ll do better. I will.
Jesus, the texts went on forever. They started right after the breakup and kept coming in every day.
“Holy shit,” I said as three dots appeared in the text.
“What?” she asked, leaning over my shoulder to look at her phone. She reached for it when she spotted the bubble, her eyes wary.
