Chapter Twenty #2
Yes, I was scared that if I were alone in a car with Miles, I’d let it all slip and ruin his wedding, our friendship, and his family, but really, I wanted a moment alone. Just a single second to take a breath before the chaos of the day ahead consumed all of us.
I had parked next to Bree’s sister and was about to pull away when they walked out. I didn’t know where anyone else was, and they didn’t see me sitting in my car. Bree had her phone to her ear, but spoke to her sister loud enough to hear through my closed window.
“For FUCK’S sake, Annabelle! You’re such a fucking drunk slut. You couldn’t just pretend to not drink? If we show up at the hotel now, they’ll… Yeah, Mom? She’s drunk, and everyone saw her… I know, she’s a fucking disgrace. Can you or Daddy come back and pick us up?… I don’t fucking know!…”
Bree and I made eye contact through the window. My chest felt like it was going to explode.
“Wait, never mind, the best man is still here… No, Miles is with someone else… I don’t know why he didn’t… You should be happy you don’t have to come get us!”
She hung up, then tried to open my back door, but it was locked. After trying again, she knocked on my window. “Hello? Open up.”
It wasn't a question, or even a demand, just annoyance. I unlocked my door, and she shoved her sister inside before coming around to the passenger side.
Once she sat down, her annoyance was gone. She was drunk, not sloppy like her sister, who shut her eyes as soon as the door was closed, but pretty trashed.
“Thanks, Finn. Thank God you didn’t take Miles. We would’ve been stranded!”
“Yeah. No worries.”
“And you already saw what a drunk slut she is. Sorry about that.” Bree laughed. I never realized what an unpleasant sound it was. “So, we’re cool, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Great.” She smiled at me. “I always knew I could trust you.”
“Uh, yup.”
Her smile turned lopsided, and her eyes swam in their sockets. “Should’ve had Miles hang with you more. But that’s okay. When we move, you’ll come over all the time. You’re a good influence on him.” She laughed. “From one moral influencer to another. Just don’t go making a brand outta it.”
“Uh, I won’t?”
She laughed again and looked down at her phone.
What did being a good influence on Miles mean? If anything, he influenced me throughout our whole lives. And I liked to think of myself as an upstanding guy who tries to do the right thing, but something told me our morals weren’t the same.
“Oh my fucking god!” Bree screeched a few minutes later.
It scared the shit out of me, and I worried something had happened. “What!? What—”
Her laugh was high-pitched and nasal. “Look at what Alissa posted tonight!”
Her phone entered my field of vision, removing much of the road. There was maybe an image of a woman, but I wasn't looking, and it was gone before I could even try.
“Can you believe that? Oh my god, she’s such a stupid whore.” Bree laughed. “But the caption is the best, ‘Lookin’ good for my bestie. Can’t wait for the big day tomorrow, girl! GB you and Miles,’ with like seven prayer hands.” She laughed again.
“You scared the shit outta me,” I said. “Who’s Alissa?”
Neither of us looked at the other. “One of my bridesmaids. But for real? Looking good?” She laughed. “God, she’s so stupid. And she looked ugly tonight, anyway.”
I didn’t know what to say. Why did you make her a bridesmaid if she’s a stupid, ugly whore, felt out of place.
“Thank God she’ll be using my stylist tomorrow.
Can you even imagine?” I couldn’t, but said nothing.
“I just feel like everything tonight was perfect, but also absolute shit. The food sucked, the servers were ugly, and had no idea what they were doing. You know? And it just looked chintzy. At least the sister doesn’t have blue hair. She’s so the type.”
I couldn’t picture Lena with anything except her light brown hair and didn’t understand why Bree thought she’d dye it. “Uh…”
I didn’t know if she was talking to her passed-out sister or me, the guy she barely knew. Or maybe she thought she knew me? I was a good influence after all. Maybe she was just wasted, and it didn’t matter. Then again, she wasn’t talking to me as much as at me.
She laughed, then groaned, startling me again.
“Why is it so hard for them to put in a little effort? I’m already gonna have to retouch their skin and make Gina’s slutty skirt longer.
” I glanced over to see her zooming in on a picture.
“It’s hard enough getting brand deals from moral companies, you know?
And if this deal doesn’t go through, I’ll be screwed.
I thought for sure the wedding would be sponsored.
That’s why I needed you up there.” She put her phone down and huffed.
“God, she’s such a trashy piece of shit. ”
The hair on my neck stood up. “What do you mean?”
She cracked the window. “At least some of the guys looked hot. Don’t know what I’ll do about Connor. He’s so hot, but so trashy with that hair.” She looked at me. “You looked good, Finn. But you always do. Picture perfect.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the road. “What did you mean you needed me up there?”
“You know what I mean, silly.”
“No, I don’t. Sorry.”
Bree giggled and hit me, saying, “Miles couldn’t have a fruitcake as his best man!”
“What are you talking about?” My gut clenched. “Do you mean Ryder?”
“Of course! Could you imagine that sissy little bitch being in my bridal party, much less the best man?”
As Bree cackled, images of Ryder on his motorcycle, his hairy chest in the Florida sun, and sweat rolling off his face as he fucked me flashed through my mind.
“Excuse me?” It took genuine effort to focus on the road, and not the red filling my vision.
“I know, right? It’s such a disgrace how that family tolerates it so much. But they’re a bunch of heathens, too. As soon as the wedding’s over, I’m putting them all on a strict info diet. I would’ve already, but Miles needs to grow a spine.”
My chest felt like it would explode again. “Wait, wait, wait. Miles removed Ryder? Or did you tell him to? Because he’s gay, or…”
She chuckled and patted my arm. “You’re just a pretty face with nothing going on up there, aren’t you?” She laughed again. “You should’ve seen his face when Miles told him. Fucking priceless! Honestly, it was worth Miles being a whiny little bitch about it.”
Instead of slamming on the brakes and letting her face smash into the dashboard, I said, “What did Ryder say?”
“Not much, you know how queers are.” Bree flailed her hand in a circle. “Blah blah blah, he’s hurt, but it’s about business, blah blah blah.” She laughed. “He’s girlier than the sister.”
Bree kept talking, but I stopped listening.
Ryder knew he was being kicked out for being gay?
Not because he was too busy, but because of who he was as a person?
Why didn’t he tell me? I was his boyfriend.
He had months. If he’d been upfront about everything, I would’ve understood.
More than understood. I would’ve shown up at the wedding in a jockstrap and a rainbow-flag cape.
But he didn’t. He also never told me about what his family… fuck.
It was the first time all day I wanted to talk to Ryder. Because, if nothing else, if we never spoke again, and I cut contact with the entire Beckett family, I needed to know why he didn’t tell me, and why the fuck he…
Oh shit. Oh fuck. Ryder didn’t hook up with me to get back at Miles, not alone, but her. If he fucked me, then either way, the best man was going to be a cocksucker. Devious, but brilliant. It made me laugh out loud.
Bree said, “Right!” I didn’t know what she was saying, nor did I give a single shit.
I had half a mind to tell Bree I was a cocksucker, and I fucking loved it. But it wasn’t worth it. She was drunk and a despicable piece of shit. Nothing I could say would matter. The damage she’d already done made me want to vomit.
I wanted to believe it was all her. But Miles let it happen. He sat back and watched, or made the calls himself. Why? Why would he do that? For such a hateful, nasty, spite-filled woman? Because she was hot? So was he! He could get pussy from anyone he wanted.
Unless he was a bigot too. I couldn’t begin to imagine that. But he’d changed so much, without me noticing… maybe it was possible. Or if not a full-blown bigot, at least hateful enough to allow all that to happen.
“Thanks for the ride, best man!” Bree said once I parked in front of her hotel. Then leaned over to kiss my cheek.
“Uh-huh,” I said, wiping it off.
After she got Bell from the backseat, I peeled out of the parking lot, wishing I were in one of those trucks that left a cloud of black smoke in my wake. I had to tell myself not to speed. I couldn’t have the conversation I was planning on if I were dead.
My stomach curdled, and the steering wheel bit into my fingers.
I put the Becketts’ house in my GPS. I wanted to talk to Ryder, but needed to speak with Miles.
It was past fucking due I told him exactly what I thought of his bride.
And dropped out of the wedding. And maybe broke his nose, depending on what he said.