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“Doesn’t matter, though,” I add. “What was between us is over. Wynona won’t even talk to me now.”
“Do you blame her?” Greyson asks.
I swing a look at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel better?”
“Nope.” He shrugs. “I’m supposed to distract you long enough to stop you from drinking yourself under the table.”
I snort. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“There you are!” Harley says, wrapping her thin, tanned arms around Greyson, her sandy blonde waves dancing.
“You stole him from me,” she accuses me with a winning smile.
I’ve always found Greyson’s wife pretty and fun, although if she had darker hair and more tattoos, maybe...
“Guilty as charged,” I say, already waving them away.
My phone rings again.
One glance and I’m gritting my teeth again, stalking off.
Picking it up, I say, “This had better be good.”
Chapter 3
Wynona
“Okay, that’s it,” Sierra says, flopping down beside me. “I have” —she checks the sleek new iPhone Nolan bought her a few weeks ago— “about fifteen minutes until my husband and I will consummate our marriage.”
As Josie giggles, Sierra continues, “First though, we’ve got as much alcohol as we need and as good a hiding spot as we’ll get.”
“Sitting behind the bar isn’t exactly the world’s best hiding spot,” I point out.
“Nonsense,” Sierra says firmly. “You wouldn’t betray us, would you, Andrew?”
The bartender, a tall, tanned man with generous lips, turns around to wink and blow us a kiss. “Never, my pale princesses.”
That sends us cracking up some more.
“Just tell her,” Josie says, elbowing me with her stupid sparkly elbow.
I elbow her back. “No.”
“I know, Wyn,” Sierra says quietly.
“What?” I say.
“I figured it out years ago,” she admits. “Found some pictures when you wanted me to see if I could retrieve all your old phone data. I didn’t mean to look, they just came up, but—”
“And you never told me?” I ask, already reaching for the closest bottle. I guess some fruity sangria it is.
Sierra grabs it first, glaring at me. “I could say the same thing to you.”
“Look. It was a painful part of my life. One I didn’t want to recount. Anyway, that year, we were mad at each other because I’d messed up your birthday party, and I just... I don’t know. I always planned to tell you. It just got further and further away. And eventually, it just seemed like it’d be just another terrible breakup for me to tell you about.”
Sierra looks sad, really sad.
Jesus, I’m a crappy friend. And on her freaking wedding day, too!
But she’s the one who brought it up.
“But when I started dating Nolan...” she says.
“I know,” I say. “Jesus, I know. At first I just thought it’d blow over. It didn’t seem like you two were serious. Then it seemed just, I don’t know, too late?” I exhale. “Anyway, Emerson never introduced me to any of his family, so it can’t have been that serious to him.”
Josie raises her pink-sparkle-nailed hand. “Can I just say that I disagree?”
“You don’t get a say,” I growl, grabbing another nearby bottle and chugging it. “Ugh. What is this?”
“Malört,” Josie says, chuckling. “And serves you right.”
“Probably,” I admit. “Sierra, I really am sorry. I felt terrible keeping it from you. The details of Him. The Big Breakup guy.”
There’s a silence.
Okay, not really a silence—not with Backstreet’s Back playing in the background and Josie murmuring along under her breath, and someone’s batty aunt yelling, “Piñata! Piñata!”—but a pause.
It’s long enough to be worrying, not damning.
Sierra could still answer me, could still want to be my friend.
Hope isn’t completely lost... right?
“Fine,” she finally says. “Because I am a good person—and because I am drunk—and also because it is my wedding day, I will forgive you.”
I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until my exhale makes me drop the napkin I’d been aimlessly tearing into itty bitty pieces.
“But,” Sierra continues, holding up the Malört bottle, “now for your punishment—”
“Bleaching her hair back strawberry blonde to match mine,” Josie says eagerly.
I snort. “You just want to get out of visiting our doctor and have me go for you.”
“Okay, the woman is scary,” Josie grumbles. “A fact you yourself agreed on.”
“She’s a bully,” I admit. “You just have to bully her back.”
“Or get my twin to do it for me,” Josie chirps. “Come on, it could be like the old days. We could live each other’s lives.”
“I don’t want your life,” I say flatly.
“Thanks a lot.”
“I’d kill your plants in a week.”
“Guys!” Sierra says loudly. “Hello? Bride speaking here? Now, as for your punishment, Wyn... I know just the thing.”
“Wonderful,” I say deadpan.
“Hey,” she reminds me. “I was the one who was deceived for over five years, remember? Now, as for your punishment...” Eyeing me, she sighs. “Okay, fine, I’ll take it easy on you. You just have to call a temporary truce with Emerson for the rest of the night. And not glare at him like you’d rather see him beheaded.”
