Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
boston
“Hey, buddy.” Lowesy smiles cheekily, hauling his front door open to let me inside.
He’s a bit too chipper to see me. He always greets me with this level of energy because I offer about one percent of that in all my interactions, ever.
I swear he thinks one day he’ll get me to crack and I’ll start singing show tunes with him on the weekends or something.
He’s tried to drag me up to sing karaoke at least fifty times. Number of times he’s succeeded?
Zero.
I kick off my shoes, hearing an unnatural silence. “Where are the dogs?”
“Lucky took them on a walk.”
We head right for the balcony, where he already has two cold beers waiting for us, unopened. I’m grateful. The summer heat is a bit stifling today, and there is nothing better than a cold one to take that simmering edge off, especially after a morning spent doing labour on the farm.
I drop onto the love seat and he takes the couch, looking at me expectantly. I asked to come over out of the blue. Something I don’t ever really do. I don’t know what’s going through his head, but he’s sitting on the edge of his seat like I’m about to surprise him with another dog.
“Why do you look so fucking excited?”
“I’m just happy you asked to come and see me,” he says with a smile. “It’s usually me pulling the weight in this friendship, so I feel like we’re turning over a new leaf.”
“We’re not.”
“Whatever you say,” he says, still grinning. He wiggles his shoulders a bit, like he’s about to burst. “Feels a little exciting to be asked for your attention.”
“I’m still going to be me after this conversation, and you’re still going to be you,” I tell him plainly.
“Except now you want to hang out with me more than I want to hang out with you.”
I stare at him, which only makes his smile grow.
He’s my boy and he knows it. I don’t know why he’s pretending anything will change after this conversation.
I hardly ever reach out to make plans with anyone, I just show up when they invite me to shit and they show up at my house unannounced. That will remain the status quo.
“Look, I have a favour to ask and you can’t blame me, you have to blame Fork.”
His face falls along with his smile. He lets out a long, tired groan. Slumping forward, he runs his hands over his face.
“Positive start. Can’t wait to hear this one.”
“Feel free to say no.”
His brow furrows, but he dips his chin. “Okay.”
“Do I have time to adjust my RSVP so that I can bring a date to your wedding?”
He blinks, surprised by the question. “Uh, I’m not sure. That’s Lucky’s wheelhouse, but I can’t see it being a huge problem. She’ll be back in twenty minutes and we can check.”
“Okay,” I say, letting out a breath. “If there’s time, I’d like to change my RSVP.”
He stares at me for a long second, holding his bottle of beer between his knees. “Okay…to bring who?”
“Ariana.”
Declan blinks, shaking his head as if he hadn’t heard me properly. “What?”
“Ariana Forkerro,” I clarify, like a fucking loser.
“Yeah, I know who she is, Boss,” he says, waving me off. “You’re bringing Forker’s sister to my wedding?”
“No. Forker doesn’t want to leave her in town without supervision, and I’m apparently the only one he trusts who isn’t already bringing someone,” I clarify, because it’s not a date. She’s not my date. “He seemed worried about her, so I said I’d do it.”
His eyes scan mine, his face showing every ounce of hesitancy that he feels. “Before I bring this up to Lucky…is there any part of you that’s even remotely excited to bring her as your date?”
Yep. It means I’ll get to listen to her ridiculous remarks for a week straight. I’ll get to shoot her a look every time she flirts with me and watch how it sparks that desire for more in her eyes. For some reason, that excites me heavily, but there is no way in hell I will ever admit that aloud.
I might have more screws loose than her brother does.
“Not my date. My plus one.”
“Same thing,” he says quickly. “Any ounce of your being that makes your dick twitch at the idea of her being there as your ‘plus one’?”
I force myself not to think about her face. Her mouth, asking me if I’d fuck her if she asked nicely. Trouble. Trouble that cannot make my dick twitch.
“None,” I say.
He cocks a brow, eyes burning into my face. “Because if the answer is yes, I’m going to say no.”
Is he even listening to what I’m saying? Does he even register that I’m answering his questions?
“What?”
“That girl wants you bad, Boss, and I have never seen you left speechless by a woman before. I’m not putting you in a position where things might happen, because then I’m putting you in a position to meet an early grave and I don’t want to bury one of my groomsmen at my own wedding.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, and it’s not. I won’t let it be.
“I’m serious. It would kill him and then he would kill you.” His hazel eyes are full of warning, and we both know he’s right. It would destroy everything. His wedding. My relationship with Fork. Fork’s relationship with his sister. Our team.
“I’m not going to touch his fucking sister,” I grumble.
“You’re sure?” he asks carefully.
“God, Lowesy. I didn’t ask for this; he asked me to do this. It’s what he wants.” I am regretting ever agreeing at this point.
“I get that, but I’m just being preemptive.”
“You don’t have to worry about anything, alright? I’m doing this as a favour. You don’t have to let me have the plus one since I’ve already declined, anyway. Just say the numbers have been finalized or whatever.”
“Well, I don’t want to do that. I like Ari. Penny loves her, too. If she wants to come, we’d love to have her.”
I cannot wait for this conversation to be over, whatever his decision may be.
“You should have just invited her. This is already proving to be a headache.” I sigh, running a hand over my face. If she had her own invite, we wouldn’t be worrying about this. She could come with Jared, or Paul, or someone else who would piss me the hell off.
Lowesy grins, dimples and all, and smacks his hand on my leg. “Let’s enjoy our beer until Lucky gets home and then we’ll sort it all out, Mr. Plus One.”
“Don’t fucking start.”
He laughs, snatching my beer from me and hitching it to the bottle opener on the side of the table. He pops it open and hands it back, his eyes full of intrigue, but laced with an underlying layer of worry. Worry that I’m about to fuck everything up for all of us.
I’m not. I got this.
She’s not my date.