10. Brent
Brent
Listening to Posey talk about her high school boyfriend last night was a punch to the gut. The notion of anyone treating her poorly stirs an unexpected protectiveness in me. Probably an emotion she wouldn’t welcome, but it’s there whether either of us are okay with it.
I adjust my tie in the mirror, and I hope the humidity comes down a notch before the ceremony. Otherwise I’ll be shedding my suit jacket the minute the reverend allows Trev and Imani to kiss.
“Christ, I’m nervous,” Trevor says from beside the window.
“About?” I haven’t called the stirring in the pit of my stomach nerves for years. Anticipation. The thrill of the chase. At the end of a race, I’ve either done it or I haven’t. Nerves have no place.
“Why did we invite so many people?” He stares at the gathering crowd.
We’re in a suite on the top floor of the hotel. Imani and her bridesmaids are getting ready in another room. It’s go time in three minutes.
Earlier, I left Posey by the pool, and I realized for the thousandth time I got lucky when she replied to my chat. She’s slotted herself into my weekend, into my life, as though she belongs. I don’t need to worry she’ll be bored or lonely. Wherever Posey goes, a crowd follows.
I catch a glimpse of her teal dress in the crush of guests.
She’s talking to Wyatt and Ellie, and it looks like she’s managed to introduce herself to Sebastian Swan and his girlfriend Natalie.
I’ve met them a handful of times at campus sporting events.
The school likes to parade their stars at regular intervals, and while the football team might be tarnished, odds are Sebastian’s going pro.
“Just focus on Imani,” I say. It’s good advice. I can barely tear my eyes away from Posey below. “Treat it like a stage performance.”
“I much prefer acting in movies,” Trevor mutters.
“All right,” the wedding planner appears at the door, and the five of us in the room straighten. “We’re going down. Imani is prepped and ready to go. Let’s get married!”
Trevor tugs at his tie, and I pat him on the shoulder. “All those people down there are here because they like you.”
“Or they’re related to me or Imani.”
Fair point. Can’t choose family.
The wedding planner leads us through the hotel to the front of the neat rows of white chairs. The harbor is behind us, and I’m the last man in the row of best men. Just made the cut.
Despite what I said to Posey last night, I haven’t been great at keeping up with my friends either. Some, like Trevor, are understanding because their lives are busy too. But it isn’t just romantic relationships that have fallen by the wayside while I chase Olympic glory.
While we wait for Imani and her bridesmaids to appear, I scan the crowd.
Posey is sitting beside Natalie, and the two of them are deep in conversation about who knows what.
My gaze lingers on her for a beat before I check to see who else is here.
Most of the people I saw last night on the terrace, but long dark hair on the opposite side of the aisle stops my heart cold.
She’s twisted around speaking to someone behind her, but I’d recognize her anywhere.
What the fuck is Val doing here?
The music starts for Imani to come down the aisle, but instead of watching the wedding, I’m trying to figure out how Val wrangled an invitation or if she’s truly crashing.
When the crowd rises for the bride, the guy Val is sitting beside clicks in my mind.
Trevor’s sleazy cousin. Her talons are wrapped around his forearm as she watches Imani.
That’s a new low. Even for her.
The whole ceremony, I can barely focus. Val’s here, and instead of being happy Posey is present to run interference, I’d prefer they didn’t meet. They’re as different as two people can be.
Their only similarity is a lack of filter. Where Posey’s boldness tends to be playful; Val is vicious. A wildcat cornered. I’ve seen her take down more than one woman who expressed too much interest in me. While I have no doubt Posey is quick enough to hold her own, she shouldn’t have to.
The vows conclude, and Trevor and Imani file down the aisle. I’m jittery waiting for my turn to take the arm of the bridesmaid who’s my partner. Somehow, I manage to make it to the cocktail area to grab a drink.
Do I rush to warn Posey, or do I avoid her to keep Val off the scent? Earlier I was patting myself on the back for taking a risk on the chat server, and now I’m sweating bullets at the idea of the two women meeting.
The decision is snatched from me when I catch sight of Posey approaching from the right while Val zeroes in on me from the left. I close my eyes and send up a prayer to a higher power.
Val reaches me first, and I cringe inside. I shoot a quick glance in Posey’s direction, and I hope she somehow realizes I don’t want her to come over right now. Her pace slows, and a frown sits between her brows.
Yep, it’s Val. Stay away, Posey.
Val has dragged Stephen, Trevor’s cousin, along with her. Her nails are half-moons in his arm, but he’s either too drunk or too high to care. Where did she dig him up?
“No date?” Val asks, and she peers around me with false innocence. She turns to Stephen, and she cups his cheek. “Stephen heard you and I broke up, and he swooped in to rescue me from heartbreak.”
“A woman on the rebound is not something you turn down,” Stephen says, and his drink sloshes over the edge of his cup. “Am I right?”
“Lucky you,” I say. Turn down, huh? Sounds like someone swooped, but it wasn’t him. She probably sent him a DM and invited herself. Her attractiveness is a weapon she wields with ease. “When did you two arrive?”
Val glares at me. She wants me to respond like I normally would. Consumed by jealousy, I’d cart her off for a conversation that would turn into a hot reunion against the side of a building.
“This morning,” Stephen says, and he takes another gulp of his drink.
“That’s right.” Val straightens. “We watched them set up the chairs for the wedding from our room. We have a great view.”
“Sure do.” Stephen stares at the cleavage spilling out of her dress.
His focus is clear. Get drunk. Get laid.
A twinge of something stirs in my gut. Not jealousy, but I can’t pinpoint the emotion.
Her focus is also obvious. Make me jealous.
Knowing her, she’ll do whatever it takes to provoke a reaction.
We’ve done this pattern before. Dysfunctional to the nth degree.
Trevor was right last night. Val and I are always one wrong word away from breaking apart.
Even if we’d loved each other, there was no longevity there.
I’m in for a long, uncomfortable evening filled with excessive PDA between her and Stephen through drinks, dinner, and the after party. While I might have come to my senses about us, she hasn’t.
She’s after me, whether I want her to be or not.
“I hope you two have a good night,” I say, and I try to extract myself from the conversation.
“I need to speak to you privately for a minute.” Val grabs my arm before I can get past her.
“Brent,” Posey says from a few feet away. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The tightness in my shoulders eases at the sound of her voice, but a stone of dread drops into my stomach at Posey and Val meeting.
Val’s expression rotates from seductive to suspicious. “Who’s that?” she spits out.
Posey arrives, and she wraps herself around me. She extends her hand to Val and gives her a wide grin.
“Posey Jensen,” she says. “I’m Brent’s wedding date. And you are?”
Guess she decided Val doesn’t love me after all. As an opening move, that’s a shot across the bow.