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CHAPTER 1
WESLEY
“Well, that was fun.” My best friend kicks off her shoes and collapses onto one of the queen beds in our hotel room, and I follow, lying next to her. I let out a breath and run my hand over my face.
“Not exactly the word I would use.” I loosen my tie and unbutton the top button of my dress shirt so I can finally breathe again. I slide the tie all the way off and toss it on the floor, letting my arm hang off the side of the bed.
Riley rolls to her side and props herself up on an elbow. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.” She pokes me in the ribs. Her brown hair falls over her shoulder in the ponytail she’s done it up in. She’s leaning far enough forward that I get a pretty good view of her cleavage. She’s dressed in black dress pants and a white v-neck top that isn’t leaving much to the imagination at the moment. It’s a nice view but it’s not doing much for me since I’m not into girls.
“I hate weddings,” I mumble, staring back up at the ceiling.
She frowns at me. “Even your sister’s?”
I sigh again and run my fingers through my blond curls. “It’s not so much the wedding itself, it’s what happens every time I’m at one, or talking about one with my parents.” I think about what my mom said to me during the reception, after the best man had given his speech – what she has said to me at every single wedding to the point where I have it memorized and just wait for it now. We’ve had three weddings in our family over the past two years, including my older sister and brother, and I am so over it. Riley has been my date to all of them because I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t had one for a long time – something I am reminded of far too often. But I don’t like to date casually. If I’m going to be with someone I want it to mean something, so sue me. I’m not going to pick up some random guy just to take to a wedding. I’d rather be there with my best friend and know I’m going to have a good time. Or at least, as good a time as possible.
“What do you mean?” Riley furrows her brows, pushing herself up to sit.
“It’s the same thing, and it happens without fail every time,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows. “My mom comes up to me, puts an arm around me, and says, ‘Look how happy they are, Wes. Pretty soon it will be you getting married. We just need to find you the right person’.” I groan as I fall back on the bed and Riley winces.
“Ooh. Sorry.”
“God, Riley, I just can’t take another one of my mom’s awful set ups. And I’m so sick of her giving me that pitying look like I’m subhuman because I don’t have a boyfriend. And now that April is married it’s going to be ten times worse. She’s already asked me to come over for dinner next weekend and I know it’s to get me to meet some random guy she probably ran into at the gym, or the salon or something. I mean, I know she means well, but I’m going crazy. Why can’t she just trust me to find my own boyfriend?” I know I’m whining and I sound pathetic, but I can’thelp it. This has been an issue for a while and I’m sort of losing my mind over it.
“Wes, is it possible that you are overreacting?” Riley asks. “Just how bad can these set-ups really be?”
“Okay, look,” I push myself up to sit now. “I know I can be kind of particular, but even you would run screaming from these guys she’s invited over. First, there was the man in his forties.”
“Well, you shouldn’t let age stop you.”
“Okay, yes, but he was still living with his parents, and had been for the past six years.” Riley covers her mouth to hide a chuckle and I go on. “Then there was the man who only spoke French. He was gorgeous, but I can’t be in a relationship with someone I can’t talk to. That whole meal was hella awkward. My mom was using what little French she’s retained from high school to try and translate for us the entire time. What am I gonna do with that? Bring her on all our dates? And then there was the guy who had six dogs. Now, I like dogs, but six is a lot, and he let them all sleep on the bed. That’s a bit too much for me. Then there was the guy who was wearing a toupee to dinner, which fell off when he threw up after getting drunk.”
Riley has tears streaming down her cheeks now and is holding her stomach as she laughs. I can’t help it and laugh right along with her because it really is ridiculous. I don’t know where my mom finds these guys. She has the worst luck.
Riley wipes at her eyes as she calms down. “Oh, man. Your life could be a sitcom, Wes.” She takes a moment to calm the fuck down and then says. “Look, I’m not defending your mom, but maybe she’s just getting a little worried about you because you haven’t actually been on a date in like...years.”
I cringe. “I go on dates,” I argue.
“When?” Riley crosses her arms over her ample chest and looks me in the eyes.
I open my mouth to respond and then snap it closed again.
“Uh huh. Listen, if you don’t like it, ask her to stop. It’s your life. Even if she means well it doesn’t mean you have to tolerate it if it upsets you. She’ll understand.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t know,” I sigh. “I’m not very good at telling my mom, ‘no’.”
“Yeah, and see where it’s gotten you?” Riley points out. “You’re miserable and whining to your best friend.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, my gaze dropping to the comforter.
She reaches over and slaps my stomach.
“Ow!” I cry, rubbing the spot.
“You know I don’t care,” she replies. “What are best friends for if not to listen to you bitch about how much life sucks?”
I smile and laugh a little. “Thanks. I hope you feel that way next weekend ‘cause I’m gonna be calling you after that dinner at my parents’ house goes horribly wrong.”
She smiles at me. “Can’t wait.”
