30. Reid
Reid
“You’re a lucky man,” Reid tells me while actively panting.
We are jogging through Central Park, and while it’s only been thirty minutes, he’s starting to get winded. I inwardly smile at that simply because I am competitive and I feel like we are just getting warmed up.
“And why’s that?” I ask.
“Because Cass finally believes there aren’t going to be any strippers at the bachelor party,” he says.
“So…should I call the company and tell them not to bother coming then?” I joke, and he shoots me a look to kill. I chuckle. “I’m kidding, obviously. We’re almost fifty, man. Why would we have strippers?”
“Listen. She was worried,” he says.
“Because you have a porn app on your phone?” I jab.
“No. Because you’re my best man…” I say, and my cocky grin disappears. “Me? What’s wrong with me? I’ve been single for years.”
“Exactly,” he says, slowing the pace a little. I consider giving him shit for it but then decide to cut him some slack. From the sound of it, Cassidy already has his balls in a vice grip. And I can’t imagine why a man our age would willingly put themselves through that on purpose.
“She has nothing to worry about. Like I said, we’re gonna drink old whiskey and play golf,” I tell him.
“I know.”
“It won’t be exciting at all,” I go on.
“I know,” he agrees. “But you do have to admit, having a best man who thinks marriage is a sham is kind of a red flag. Not for me because I know you and I know it’s all a cover, but Cass needed some convincing.”
“Thanks for the support,” I mutter. “But just because I don’t love the concept doesn’t mean I’m incapable of best man duties.”
Drew chuckles at that and slows to a walk as he takes a sip from his water bottle. “So, speaking of weddings. How was Myrtle?”
“It was…good,” I say, and I know Drew catches the lilt in my voice.
“Yeah?” he asks with surprise.
“Yeah,” I nod. “We had a lot of fun.”
He nods slowly. “What kind of fun?” he presses, and I know where he’s going with it.
“The kind of fun Quinn initiated…” I state, just to make it clear that it was not manipulated.
“Alright,” he says after a long moment, and I’m not really sure what to do with that. But I am smiling. And he catches it, which is in itself annoying. “So it was her idea…”
“It was her idea,” I reiterate.
“And you had nothing to do with it?”
“I mean, I was there. We were having a good time,” I say.
“A good time doing what?” he asks as we walk.
“Dancing. Eating. Drinking. Not much though, drinking I mean. It didn’t stem from that,” I explain, opening my own water bottle.
“No, it just stemmed from an out-of-town wedding, the beach, a full moon and one bed,” he muses, and I toss him a look.
“You sound like a fortune teller,” I mutter. “Next you’re going to ask to read my palm.”
“Maybe not your palm,” he says. “But I am interested in your aura. And your aura right now is very…pink.”
“Dude, shut the fuck up,” I snap, and Drew laughs.
“All I’m saying is one…I am not surprised it happened given the circumstances and your history.”
I arch an eyebrow. “History?”
“Yes. Your history of driving each other crazy. She is literally your sarcastic, conversational equal, my friend. Like it or not.”
“I mean, she is a lawyer’s daughter,” I say.
“Yeah? Which lawyer?” he asks.
“Not sure. Her last name is Delaney and I don’t know anybody by that name,” I answer.
“Either way, you two are fire and ice. Sex was inevitable, especially in a hotel suite overlooking the ocean with just one bed. And speaking of that,” he says, and I knew it would loop back to this.
Honestly, I am starting to kick myself for setting a one-bed suite.
Even though that room could have had ten, we would have ended up in the same one.
At least I could say there was more than one.
“Yes?” I ask as we continue to walk.
“How did you pull that off?”
“Same thing I told her. It would have looked suspicious if we weren’t in the same room. Most couples these days aren’t saving themselves for marriage, especially not at my age.”
“And a suite was the only option…” Drew presses.
“The suite was an upgrade. Yes. I admit it. Ryan had us set up in a normal king room on, like, the seventh floor or some shit. Which I mean, come on. No offense, considering he paid for it and all, but the seventh floor overlooking the parking lot is hardly romantic–”
The world comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I immediately kick myself in the teeth for it.
“Romantic, huh?” he says.
“It’s a figure of speech,” I say.
“A figure of speech August Reid Remington never uses,” he says, and he’s not wrong. Just really fucking annoying.
“You know what I mean,” I snap, my tone a warning sign that he needs to tread lightly. Of course Drew doesn’t give a shit. He’s known me for too long to give a shit.
“Here’s a question,” he goes on. “Are you sure it wasn’t just meaningless sex?”
“I never said it was meaningless,” I argued.
“So it meant something.”
“It meant…it was good. Really good sex. Mind-blowing if I am being honest. Like I’ve never connected with a woman like that in the bedroom. Physically speaking, of course,” I answer.
“Of course,” he echos.
“And that’s all it meant. We are sexually compatible.”
“Alright,” Drew says. “And is there any area in which you are not compatible?”
I scoff. But I also don’t have an answer. So I reroute. This conversation is getting old, and we are at least a twenty-minute run from our cars.
“Is there a point to anything you’re asking me?” I ask.
“I just think you should be careful,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“Careful of what?” I ask.
“You want the truth?” he asks.
“No, I want you to lie to me,” I mutter. “Of course I want the truth. No frills would be nice, too.”
“You’re acting the way you did with–”
“Don’t say her name,” I warn him.
“Lauren.”
Every part of my body clenches at the sound of it.
“This is not the same,” I say sharply.
“No, I totally agree,” Drew says. “It’s not the same. It’s not the same because you’ve not naive this time. And I say that with love. We have all been there. Young and in love. But also, Quinn and Lauren are two very different people.”
“Lauren believed in love,” I say, picking up our pace to a jog again, partly because I want to get to the cars faster and partly because the conversation is stressing me out.
“In her own way,” he says. “And unfortunately, it wasn’t with you. You weren’t her endgame,”
“Clearly,” I punch out. I speed up even more. Maybe if I outrun him, he will be panting too hard to keep talking. Unfortunately, he holds steady, like he’s getting some sort of mid-life second wind.
Of course.
“More importantly, Reid, she wasn’t your endgame,” he says. “Which is why this is different.”
“Funny,” I snort, “A moment ago, you said I’m acting the way I did with Lauren.”
“You’re acting like you’re falling for someone, yes,” he says, and every word of it makes my skin crawl.
But for a moment, I try to figure out why.
It isn’t that the idea of caring for Quinn upsets me.
I may be a realist when it comes to love, but I’m not heartless.
I still know what it means to care for people, to value relationships.
Am I picky about who I let in? Sure. It only makes sense after what I went through.
After what Lauren put me through. But that doesn’t mean I am incapable of feeling…
something. And after this past weekend, I can’t deny that.
I definitely feel something. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.
“I’m not sure about that,” I say, and Drew nods once with a short smile.
Despite playing footsie with the red tape, he does at least seem to know when to back off.
A little anyway. “What happened with Lauren…gutted me,” I admit.
“And I’ll never be stupid enough to get into a situation like that again. ”
“Alright,” he nods. “But I’d be careful not to fuck up the right relationship either.”