25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Morgan
“ I ’m already sore as fuck,” Beau whines, taking a sip from his footlong strawberry daiquiri as we sit on the edge of the massive hotel pool. “That shit was hard.”
My body is way more sore from the pounding Walker gave me last night than the pole dancing class the group took this morning. But I keep that to myself. Nobody was the wiser when I snuck back to my room at two in the morning after the delicious hell he put me through, and there’s no reason that they need to know.
“I’m not surprised. You’re looking pretty small these days, Buff,” Walker deadpans, knowing it’ll piss off the most muscular friend in the group.
Walker is sucking down a pi?a colada the same size as Beau’s, though I can’t tell if it’s affecting him because he’s so damn hard to read. He could be blackout drunk or stone-cold sober, and I would have no idea either way because he’s acting completely normal.
It’s infuriating.
Actually . . . what’s more infuriating is the fact that he’s barely given me a sideways glance all day. Every time I say something, he ignores it like he wasn’t balls deep inside of me hours ago. And I know it’s not because I don’t look hot as fuck—I’m wearing a black bandeau that barely covers my tits, paired with the cheekiest bottoms that I own. He should be salivating over me, not bromancing with his friend.
“I may be small, but at least I’m not soft,” Beau counters, reaching across me to pat Walker’s chest. “When was the last time you lifted, bro? I can barely see your abs under there.”
Walker laughs and then replies, “I may have a soft body, but I’ve got a hard dick.”
Okay, maybe he is drunk—that was actually funny.
When they start discussing who their favorite porn star is, I decide that I’ve officially had enough of this boys club conversation and leave to go hang with the girls by the VIP bar.
“Where’s Parker?” I ask Cass, wrapping my arms around my best friend from behind.
I don’t actually care where her fiancé is, but I’m trying to make pleasant conversation. Things have felt slightly off between us ever since I trash talked him at the Mexican restaurant, and I want to get back on track—our friendship is more important than my opinion of her future husband.
Cass tips her head back against my shoulder. “He had a quick work thing to take care of, so he ran up to the room. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
I plop my ass on the cool metal barstool next to her. “Whatcha drinking?”
She’s holding some sort of orange slushie that smells like Everclear, and I’m suddenly feeling far too sober compared to the rest of the group.
“Jetfuel.”
My eyes go wide as a core memory unlocks in my brain. “Like from Flip Flops?”
“Mhmmm,” she murmurs as she leans in and sucks down the sugary alcohol through a long pink straw. “But it tastes drunker.”
Flip Flops is a bar in midtown that we visited once, but never returned to again. Not because it wasn’t a good time, but because we both got plastered from a drink just like this. I don’t know why I thought it was exclusive to that particular establishment, but now that I know it’s not, I immediately order one.
“You excited for the wedding?” I ask, stealing a sip of her drink while I wait for the bartender to bring my own.
Cass reaches up to toy with the string of her white swimsuit top. “I’m excited to be married,” she answers slowly, her gaze flickering in the direction of the hotel. “But not the actual wedding.”
I shift in my seat, not expecting her answer. “Why? You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, Cass, and it’s going to be the best day ever.”
She’s getting married on a rooftop downtown that has incredible views of the Atlanta skyline—it even has a helipad on top so you can have the most outrageous exit ever. She hired a DJ so that we can request practically any song in existence, and dinner includes a buffet with a mac and cheese bar. I literally wouldn’t change a thing if I were her.
The sunlight reflects on her massive engagement ring as she takes another sip of her Jetfuel.
“I know, I know. It’s just . . . planning has been so stressful. My mom is refusing to take no for an answer on the Southerlands, and I’m just so over it.”
Her shiny hazel eyes flick up to the straw ceiling of the tiki bar like she’s trying to hold back tears. “I just wish Carter were here. He would always mediate. I miss him so much.”
I love my brother more than anything in the world and can’t even begin to imagine the pain she feels from losing hers. But I know if I hug her, she’ll definitely start crying, so I make a joke instead.
“You could get married tonight,” I suggest with a smile. “Elope in Vegas with all of your besties.”
Cassidy laughs, the tension in her shoulders visibly relaxing.
“You know, that doesn’t sound like the worst idea you’ve ever had.” She wipes at the corner of her eye. “Can you imagine the look on my mom’s face if I actually did that?”
The bartender slides my drink across the counter, and I take a grateful gulp, feeling the potent mix hit my system instantly. “You’d beat out Claire for the most dramatic plot twist of the year.”
She rolls her eyes and clinks her glass against mine. “Always a nominee, never a winner. Could this finally be my time to shine?”
“You always shine, babe.”
“Did I hear my name?” Claire slurs, brushing her wild curls from her face as she looks over at us. She’s been chatting with her sister about pharmacology, which is just about the lamest discussion I can imagine having at a Las Vegas pool party.
I lean over the bar, already feeling tipsy from the few sips I’ve taken. “Yeah. Cass demoted you from maid of honor, so I had to step up. Sorry.”
Claire’s bright-blue eyes go wide in disbelief as she stares at her future sister-in-law. Before she can open her mouth, her gaze flicks to mine and her expression shifts—clearly I can’t say anything with a straight face.
“You’re the worst, Morg,” she chides, throwing her plastic straw at me. “I actually believed you for a second.”
I won’t lie, I was a little bit jealous when I found out that Claire was going to be maid of honor instead of me, especially since Cass isn’t having anyone else in the bridal party. But I also understand why she made the decision—I haven’t exactly been the most supportive friend with regard to their relationship.
I hop off the bar stool and pull Claire into a hug, my face smashing into her chest. “You love me, though. This has already been such a fun weekend, and you’re the best maid of honor ever.”
“Damn right I am,” she giggles, wrapping her arms around me. “Now come pee with me. I’ve been holding it for like an hour, and I’m about to burst.”
***
O n our way back from the bathroom, I stop by the cabana. I know there are a bunch of sunscreen nonbelievers out there, but I intend to look twenty-six for the rest of my life so I refuse to take any chances by not reapplying.
As I’m dancing around like a monkey, trying to figure out how to get the sunscreen on my upper back, a voice that I occasionally hear in my nightmares comes out of nowhere.
“Want some help?”
My chest tightens. “Uh, nope. I’ve got it.”
I continue contorting my body at an awkward angle as I spray myself, refusing to make direct eye contact with my best friend’s fiancé.
“You’re missing like half your back.”
No shit, Sherlock.
My body starts to feel twitchy as I pause and slowly turn to face Parker Winters. He’s wearing a black Atlanta Falcons jersey over red swim trunks, looking far more . . . normal than I’ve ever seen him. Dare I say that he looks attractive? That is, if you’re into men that also moonlight as demons.
“Thank you, Doctor Doubtfire,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
“Good one.” I hear him chuckle as I turn to put the bottle back in my bag. “Can we talk?”
I glance around for a distraction but everyone else is now in the pool, leaving me cornered with the devil incarnate.I need to remember to always travel with a buddy—it’s basic safety.
Eventually, I nod and gesture to the beige sofa beneath the cabana. The sooner we get this conversation over with, the sooner I can get back to pretending that he doesn’t exist. I sit down, making sure to leave plenty of space between us because the last thing I want is for this to feel like a cozy chat.
Parker follows, awkwardly studying the sleek pool deck before meeting my gaze with his irritatingly gorgeous blue eyes.
“Look, Cass told me not to make this a big deal,” he starts, letting out a heavy sigh. “But I know it’s been weighing on her, and she would never say anything to you directly, so I’m stepping in.”
My stomach lurches as I wait for him to spit out whatever it is that he has to say, and I pick at the dry skin on my cuticles, trying to keep my hands busy.I’ve had this habit ever since I was a kid, and uncomfortable situations just make it worse.
“She’s worried that you don’t want us to get married.”
I swallow hard. If she brought it up to Parker, it’s clearly been bothering her. It’s not like I hadn’t considered the impact of my words, but hearing the truth out loud makes my heart hurt. I’ve been acting like an asshole, and she doesn’t deserve that—she deserves a better friend.
“Listen, I just want her to be happy,” I finally say as I look over at Cass, thinking about how much joy she’s brought into my life. “If you do that, and she wants to deal with your irritating ass for her entire life, I’m not going to stand in the way.”
Parker cracks a smile. “Well, she deals with your irritating ass too. Must be something she’s into.”
I don’t laugh, but my lips quirk ever so slightly against my will.
His face becomes solemn as he follows my gaze. “You know I love her more than anything, don’t you? I love her more than our bad days. I love her more than any fight or obstacle that’ll come between us. There’s nothing in this world that I love more than her.”
His words make my brain feel fuzzy because I can tell he means them. But that doesn’t erase how he’s treated her—how I’ve had to be there to pick up the pieces when he wasn’t.
“I’m sure you do—”
“She’s taken the very worst pieces of me and transformed them into something better. I’ve grown into a better man, friend, doctor, all because of her.”
“And what have you done for her?”
The words come out before I can stop them, but now that they’ve been said, I don’t regret them—I’ve been wondering for a long time.
Parker shifts as he stares at his fiancée with a wistful look on his face. “It’s not what I have done for her, because I’ll be the first one to admit that it’s not enough. But it’s what I will do for her.”
He turns to me, his voice softening with sincerity. “I’ll cherish her, the way that she cherishes me. I’ll be her rock, the way that she’s been my rock. I’ll be everything to her, the way that she’s everything to me. And I know she knows that, but I need you to know it too.”
The tension in my shoulders eases slightly. Maybe I’ve been too harsh, too quick to judge based on snippets and moments of frustration. Maybe, just maybe, Parker Winters isn’t the devil I’ve painted him out to be in my head.
“Good,” I say after a pause. “Because she’s the best of us. She deserves that and so much more.”