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But as Mireille went on with her speech, my eyes wandered along the table. I couldn’t exactly help noticing the lone family member who was missing from tonight’s lineup.
Shane.
Just like he was missing from the suit fitting I’d set up for him.
It was yesterday. I’d given Mom the appointment info so she could have Jacob’s assistant send it on to Shane, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with him any more than absolutely necessary. No way was I texting him or calling him, even if I still had his phone number, which I did not. And I definitely wasn’t going over to his place again.
According to the suit shop, Shane was MIA at the fitting. I hadn’t even told Mom yet.
And now I couldn’t even decide which was worse. Having to see him again, or him just going AWOL on everything.
So much for a truce.
I mean, he did agree to get the suit fitting but he never really did agree to give me a truce.
And of course, he lied either way.
What the hell was his problem, really? Was it the wedding? Or was it me?
Or was it just him?
Since I didn’t really have any answers, maybe I figured I’d just drink and by the time he rolled in I wouldn’t care anymore. About any of it. I really wasn’tintendingto get wasted. But you know what they said about the road to hell? Paved in good intentions and all that?
My intention, if I had one, began and ended with the dress I was wearing tonight.
As I left the house this afternoon to meet up with Alyssa, Mom said,“Why don’t you get yourself something nice,”then gave me one of her signature loaded looks along with Jacob’s credit card. Which had me heavily second guessing the outfit I was planning to wear and ultimately shopping for something else.
Somethingelsesoon became somethingsexier, and now here I was in a floral pink wrap dress, with a plunging neckline and no bra. I’d drank way too much already and eaten way too little, in the interest of honoring the unforgiving waistline of this dress, for Shane not to lay eyes on me tonight.
Yup. There it was.
The truth, laid bare by many, many glasses of alcohol.
I looked good tonight. My hair had cooperated and the dress was flattering. I just wanted him to see me like this.
The first time Shane met me, I was wearing sweats and spa slippers. I had zero game. I was nineteen and utterly swept away by his animal magnetism. I had no idea what I was doing when I followed him up to his hotel room except picking up on whatever he was putting down.
I had no idea what to do when he kissed me except kiss him back.
And follow all his sexy, bossy orders.
Since then, I’d learned approximately zero new moves. I still had no idea what I was doing with men. Maybe because I hadn’t stumbled across another man who was halfway as skilled as he was in the bedroom. The other guys I’d hooked up with since that night—and before that night—had been amateurs in that regard.
It was like the blind leading the blind.
With Shane, I’d felt way out of my league and yet perfectly where I belonged.
Which was maybe the part that tortured me the most.
It was like the universe had played a terrible joke on me. Giving me a taste of something so incredible I didn’t even know it existed, making me wildly hungry for it… and then pulling the rug.Just kidding! It may be delicious but it’s poisonous! Ha ha!
It wasn’t like I wanted to refuck the guy who was about to technically become my stepbrother.
Not happening.
Maybe there was a time when I’d fantasized about it, in detail, but that was neither here nor there.
Just because I still thought about him on occasion and my stomach turned over every time I asked Mom how Jacob was doing and she felt the need to give me an unsolicited update on all his sons and mention howintéressante—translation: overtly sexy, obscenely wealthy, and/or stunningly successful—Shane’s latest arm ornament was, didn’t mean I had any interest in him whatsoever.
