28. Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Seven
"Fuck!" I hear Blaise hiss from his bedroom.
Curiously, I poke my head out of my own room, staring at his closed door. "You okay?" I yell.
I hear more curse words and movements before he swings his door open, an annoyed look on his face.
"My asshole brother is getting married."
"And that's a problem?" I ask, confused.
Blaise sighs. "Of course not. I love him and I'm so damn happy he's getting married. But as much as I do love him, he drives me insane."
I snort. "That's normal for siblings I expect."
"Says the only child."
"What's the problem?" I roll my eyes.
He leans against his door, arms folded. "Well, since Dad isn't able to be there, he asked if I would walk him down the aisle. Don't even get me started about walking the groom down the aisle, but that's not the issue."
My eyebrows furrow. "What's the issue then?"
Blaise shakes his head. "Alfie has OCD. And the RSVP deadline has passed so final numbers have been locked in. Unfortunately, since Nathan is no longer attending with me, Alfie is mad that I've put the wedding numbers at an odd count."
"People might pull out on the day," I offer sheepishly. "Illnesses and things."
He holds up his hand. "Don't even get me started on that. But anyway, he is demanding that I bring a plus one so that I don't ruin his seating chart."
I burst out laughing while Blaise scowls at me. "That's your biggest problem right now? Man, I wish I had your life."
Blaise tilts his head. "Let's not compare apples to oranges. But since you wish you had my life, I hope you're free in two weeks."
"Me?" I stutter. "I've never even met your family."
"Well, too bad," he says, stepping inside his bedroom and partially closing the door. "Because I would rather deal with your rage than my brother's. So find a nice dress because you're coming with me."
Out of boredom, I decide to download Tinder. I've never used dating apps before but since my recent Google searches have messed up my algorithm, I'm constantly getting ads about single life.
What's the worst that can happen? I swipe right on a few losers before I give up and hope that someone climbs through my bedroom window to sweep me off my feet?
I snap a few pictures for my profile, writing the world's most boring bio. I never know what to tell people about myself.
Pathetic 29-year old with a broken heart. Makes stupid decisions. Drinks tequila. Occasionally engages in threesomes and has sex in the gym bathroom.
That's the truth. But we never put the full truth forward when introducing ourselves to people. We want to be a fantasy, flawless — give them time to get feelings before they start dealing with all the baggage.
Instead, I opt for a more… appealing bio.
I'm 29 years old and enjoy meeting people. I like to have fun when I'm not working at my IT job. Love music, movies and food. Hoping to find someone on the same page as me that wants to eventually settle down. I'm very loyal and believe in kindness.
There. Straight to the point. It should help weed out any players or time-wasters. The idea of marriage or a serious relationship tends to make certain people repulse, so hopefully I only match with men who resemble Henry Cavill or Chris Hemsworth.
I start swiping after I finish setting up my profile, my optimism draining the further I swipe. Tinder is a cesspool of emotionally unavailable men — masquerading in gym attire, holding fish, and proclaiming to be the best thing in the world but don't want anything serious.
I curse Jordan for putting me in this position. Don't men realize how dangerous it is to be a single woman?
There's a few men that catch my eye and I close out of the app, waiting for matches.
Later on, I decide to go to the gym, determined to not let any asshole stop me from living my life. Thankfully, Kaden is nowhere to be seen and I manage to get a decent run in on the treadmill. And as much as I hate to admit it, I do incorporate some of Kaden's tips and find it helps.
Afterwards, I do a bit of work on the laptop while Blaise floats around the house, arguing with his family on the phone. I hear mentions of music and the possible idea of dancing down the aisle, which Blaise tries to shut down. Apparently, Alfie wants to choreograph a small dance ensemble in two weeks.
"I'm not spinning around while Mariah Carey plays! No, I do like Mariah but I'm not twirling around on the sand, Alfie!"
Snorting, Blaise sends me a heated glare and I do my best not to laugh. Even though I have no experience with weddings, I have no doubt that Blaise is going to lose this argument. That's rule number one of any wedding — never mess with the bride or groom.
"I already told you, I'm bringing a date to the wedding. Tell Mom to stop stressing about me. I don't need you all having full blown panic attacks over my relationship status," he pauses. "Well, then you start popping out grandkids for Mom. No — I'm not getting back together with Nathan. Yes, I'm fine. Argh."
Shaking my head, I type on my laptop, entering some final data for a report Blaise urgently needs before a client meeting tomorrow morning. Just as I'm about to hit send, Blaise walks over, flopping himself onto the couch as he sighs, covering his eyes.
"We'll talk about this later, Alfie. I have to go."
"That bad?" I ask when he hangs up the call.
Blaise groans loudly, rubbing his face. "I swear if I didn't love them so much I'd suffocate them with a pillow — a breathable one, but still."
"Grandchildren?" I tease.
He snaps his head toward me. "Don't start. Mom is apparently heartbroken over my breakup. God forbid my younger brother get married before me."
I laugh. "I haven't even told my parents about mine yet. I don't want to pester them since Uncle Logie recently passed away. Besides, the last thing I need is my dad going on a hunt for Jordan."
"Nah, send your dad after him," Blaise says. "A few slaps around the cheek would do him good. Plus, it could be therapeutic for your dad."
"I'm so happy you are concerned about my dad's mental wellbeing," I mutter sarcastically. "And not the fact he'd probably be arrested."
Blaise scratches his chin. "Okay, new plan — your dad and I wear balaclavas."
"Oh." My eyebrows shoot up. "Now you're going with him. Great — two people to bail out of jail."
"I'm serious. Just give me his number and let me do a bit more of a search on him. I'll find out dirt."
I glance over at him. "We already have dirt on him, so to speak. But he's not worth it."
"He's really not," Blaise agrees. "Anyway, apparently I'm going to be dancing down the aisle with my baby brother."
Grinning, I pass my laptop over to him. "I can't wait to see that. Here — your report is done."
He reaches for the laptop, scanning over the contents. "Fantastic, thank you. And if I see your camera on at all during this dance, I'll be dishing out punishment."
"What could you possibly punish me with?" I taunt. "No more tequila? Going to pin me down and watch ten movies back to back?"
Blaise raises an eyebrow at me, playing with the ring on his index finger. "I'd find something. Don't underestimate me."
"Do your worst," I shoot back. "At this stage if I survive my current life crisis, I'll be able to survive anything."
He laughs, handing me the laptop. "Don't be so sure, little one."
The next day I head to the gym bright and early, determined to give the early workout a try.
Needless to say, I instantly regret it. Without the power of caffeine, I'm barely able to run, my eyes still groggy from lack of sleep.
As much as I tell myself I'm fine, sleep is still not being kind to me. It takes forever to finally drift off, and when I do, I'm plagued with nightmares. But I refuse to cry anymore. I need to just suck it up and move on. Crying isn't going to change anything and the best thing I can do is live my life.
The best revenge is happiness.
I'm nearly at the end of my three miles when a figure steps into my line of sight and I groan. It's too early to deal with this bullshit.
"What did I do to deserve this?" I grumble.
Kaden raises an eyebrow at me. "Good morning to you too."
"What are you even doing here?" I snap, still running. "I thought you came in the afternoons."
"Keeping track of me?" he teases.
I roll my eyes. "Only so that I can avoid you. I can see that it was worthless though. Much like you and your best friend."
Okay — I admit I might be a little snappy in the mornings without coffee and suffering from lack of sleep.
"Ouch," Kaden says tonelessly. "I just wanted to say your running looks better."
"Thanks," I retort. "Now, off you go."
He doesn't move and when the machine clicks over at three miles, I hit the stop button, slowing my pace down until I've stopped completely.
I usually prefer to wait until I get my bearings back after running, but I hastily step off the machine, heading toward the doors. I don't dare head toward the change rooms, and unfortunately, I sense Kaden following me in the parking lot.
"Jesus Christ, Kaden. What the hell do you want?" I snap, spinning around when I reach my car.
He crosses his arms, pausing in front of me. "You're moody today."
"It's just a correlation to your presence. Answer the question."
Kaden reaches into his pocket, fishing out a piece of paper. He holds it out for me and I stare down at it, not taking it from him.
"What is that?" I ask.
"My number," he says and when I groan and turn to reach for my car door handle, he steps in, pushing me against my little yellow submarine.
Spinning around, I glare at him. "Don't touch me! Step back."
There's a fraction of an inch between us, my back pressed against my driver door but he doesn't move.
"I just thought we could meet up to chat about things," he replies casually. "Just in case you still had questions."
"I don't have questions. And I don't need your pity."
Kaden nods. "I'm not offering it. But if you want to hang out or chat, I'm open to the idea."
I shove the paper back into his chest, his hand still holding onto it. "I don't need your help. I've moved on and so has Jordan. I'm not interested in your sick games."
"Whatever," he shrugs. "I'm just saying — I lost my friends too."
Raising an eyebrow at him, I can't help but be aware we'll still close to each other. "Lost friends? Really?"
He nods again. "Jake and I aren't friends anymore. And Jordan moving away sucks for me too."
I'm not sure what comes over me but I push his chest, sending him backwards. "Don't you DARE compare us. Jordan is still your friend. So there's a bit of distance now between you — boohoo. I lost him completely, Kaden. We are not the same."
Kaden steadies himself, crossing his arms. "And yet you say you've moved on. I don't call fucking me in the bathroom moving on. All I'm saying is we can help each other through it."
"You're insane," I shake my head, pulling my car door open. "Go to Hell."
Thankfully he doesn't try to stop me and I quickly turn the car on, shoving it into reverse as I peel out of the parking lot. The only problem is the asshole quickly threw the piece of paper into my backseat before I could get my door closed. I have every intention of burning it to ashes when I get home.
The nerve of him.
Fuck them both.