11. Posey
Posey
Ipick my way through the crowd to Brent, and I’m almost there when I catch a glimpse of a familiar brunette beauty making a beeline for him, dragging a guy who appears either stoned or drunk. She crashed the wedding with a date?
“That Brent’s ex?” Natalie Chapman, Sebastian Swan’s girlfriend, appears at my side.
“Yeah,” I say. “But I can’t figure out what’s going on.” Instead of continuing to Brent, I’m caught between assessing the situation and barging in.
Natalie nods toward the man on Valentina’s arm. “That’s Trevor’s cousin. I heard Imani and the wedding planner talking earlier about how he never sent in his RSVP and then showed up with a date. They were scrambling to figure out food and table settings.”
While Natalie and I chat, I search Val’s expression for any hint of longing or love.
She’s doing her best to make Brent jealous, and her date is ogling her chest like it’s his job, but there’s no heartbreak there.
Is that because she doesn’t believe they’ll stay broken up, or is Brent right and she doesn’t love him?
“Would she really put all this effort into finding a date and crashing the wedding if she didn’t love him?” I ask.
While we waited for the ceremony, Natalie and I became fast friends. She’s the kind of person I genuinely like. No pretense. No bullshit.
Natalie’s shoulder-length dark hair falls across her cheek, and she sweeps it back. “She’s been making a lot of money off her socials because of him, right?”
“Yeah. Influencer status. Without him, she’s got no platform. The only reason I followed her was to stare at him.”
“Does he know?” Natalie’s brown eyes light with amusement.
“Yep. I have no shame.” I give her a helpless look. “I’m a sucker for a hot body.”
“I can sympathize.” Her lips twitch.
“What impression are you getting?” I ask.
“From here?” She tips her head from side to side. “Possessive, maybe? She doesn’t look heartbroken or...you know, that feeling you get when you’re desperate for someone? I don’t see it. You can’t hide that. Leaks out of you. The worst kind of misery.”
My sister Julia’s expression after her friendship with Nick blew apart pops into my mind. Misery. That’s definitely what glazed over my sister like an oil spill. Sticky. Impossible to ignore. Thank god I’ve never been that desperate for anyone’s company.
Natalie’s assessment matches mine. Val wants him back, but it doesn’t have anything to do with love.
“All right,” I say with a nod. “I’m going in.”
“Get your armor on,” Natalie says. “Money is a powerful motivator, and she’ll think you’ve highjacked her gravy train.”
“I definitely took a ride last night.” I give her a sly smile.
“I wouldn’t lead with that.” She laughs and swirls the drink in her hand.
“In about two minutes, Brent will be shouting ‘shots fired’ in the ‘holy shit’ voice guys use when they’re impressed and terrified.” Val latches onto Brent’s arm, and that’s my cue to intervene. “Listen for it.”
“He’s not going to say that!”
I half-turn back to her. “I guarantee he’ll be thinking it. My pussy...cat is coming out to play.”
“Posey!” Natalie’s expression is part scandalized and part amused.
“Brent,” I call to give him a heads-up that I’m entering the fray. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” When I reach him, I ignore Val and loop my arms around his waist. He relaxes against me, and I cuddle in tight for a quick squeeze to let him know he doesn’t have to deal with her alone.
“Posey Jensen,” I say, and I extend my hand to Val.
Whether or not she takes it will dictate how nasty this is going to get.
The fury in her dark gaze is a clear indication she doesn’t see me as a nuisance but as a threat.
Girl-on-girl hate is my least favorite, but I learned a long time ago to stand my ground.
Being super social isn’t always a blessing.
“I’m Brent’s wedding date. And you are?”
Above me, Brent releases a strangled noise. Yeah, Brent. I fired the first shot.
Valentina’s eyebrows get lost in her bangs, and her gaze narrows. “Valentina,” she says, and she ignores my hand. “I’m Brent’s girlfriend.”
“Ex,” Brent and Trevor’s cousin say at the same time. They give each other startled glances that morph into silent ‘I got your back’ head tips.
Valentina tunes out the two men, and her calculating gaze never wavers from mine. “If I searched my followers, would I find your name?”
She’s got me there. “I’m a big fan of Brent’s body of work.” I run my hand along his chest.
“Brent.” Valentina tears her gaze from mine to glare at him. “You brought an obsessive swim fan to Trev’s wedding? She could be unhinged, a stalker.”
“Can you imagine?” I let out a delighted laugh. “We could be on one of those true crime programs.” Escalation is the best defense. Call me a stalker? I can go one further than that. “‘Wedding date gone wrong’ would be a great hook.”
“You’re dating fangirls now?” Valentina keeps focused on Brent. “Is that what this is?”
“To be fair,” I say, “he didn’t realize I was a fangirl until I met him at the airport.” I gaze up at Brent before meeting Valentina’s rage head-on. “But who wouldn’t be a fan of him? Am I right?” I give her a beaming smile.
She doesn’t respond to me. Instead, she whirls on Brent again. “You could catch something from her. Anything. Girls who meet random men at the airport can’t be trusted.”
“Syphilis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, herpes, pubic lice...” Amazing how often jealous women make this particular argument. “But what you’re really concerned about is that he might catch feelings.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Valentina crosses her arms. “The STDs are far more likely. You’re not his type.”
“Val,” Brent says.
I rotate to Trevor’s cousin, who has been sipping his drink and gawking at Val’s assets. “I’m Posey. And you are?”
“Stephen,” he says, and he shakes my hand.
“When did you and Val meet?” I ask.
“She slid into my DMs with a few pics.” He grins. “Be crazy to turn that down, even if I had to attend this thing.” He waves his drink around. “Fucking rich, stuck-up family.”
“Oh,” I say, and I stare at Val as I ask the next question. “Did you two meet in person for the first time at the airport?”
“Don’t answer that,” Val says.
My logic isn’t lost on her. People in glass airports shouldn’t throw stones. If I can’t be trusted, she can’t either.
“I think we’re done here,” Brent says.
“We’re not done.” Val’s hand snakes out to grab his arm.
“We are,” Brent says, and his hand is firm on the small of my back. “I’m one of the groomsmen, and I’m not doing my job while I’m here talking to you. Enjoy your weekend. Stephen, it was nice to meet you.”
“You too, man.” Stephen lifts his drink in salute while Brent steers me away from them into the crowd.
“Jesus, Posey, I’m sorry,” Brent says. “But you were brilliant.”
“Not my first time at the jealous girlfriend rodeo,” I say as he leads us to the bar.
“No?”
“I talk a lot.” I shrug. “Sometimes I talk to the wrong people. My sexual innuendos get wasted.”
He laughs and squeezes my hip. “A crime.” He orders us swizzles, and once we have them, he glances in Val’s direction.
“Were you tempted?” From a distance, he didn’t appear to be struggling.
“She lured Trevor’s cousin into bringing her. I’m not sure what to do with that. I suspected she might crash the reception, but the whole thing? I bet she even paid for their flights, possibly the hotel.”
“She has enough money for that?”
“Her family is very wealthy, but she says she hates using their money. She wanted to make her own fortune.”
“Except she’s been creating it off the back of your fame and hard work,” I say. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire on that one.”
Brent sips his drink. “That’s basically the crux of the problem between me and Val. She’s willing to put up with my lack of attention, but in exchange, she requires my body to be at her disposal. I’m not sure she’s ever cared about who I am, but she loves what I represent.”
“Have you never read any of her posts?” She painted them as a couple madly in love to her followers. The photos she’s taken of him are intimate, and honestly, beautiful. Her gushing, supportive captions alongside her images framed their relationship as aspirational for me and thousands of others.
“Skimmed a few. All bullshit.” He shrugs. “I know the truth. So does she. Best not to engage.”
“You just let her lie to people?” I’m not sure what I expected him to say, but his indifference to her misrepresentation is surprising.
A hint of color enters his cheeks, and he shifts on his feet.
Other wedding guests mill around us getting drinks, and I scan the crowd for someone else to talk to. Brent’s easy dismissal of Valentina’s deception irks me. Or maybe it’s how she fooled me when I consider myself savvy about social media.
“With Val,” Brent says, “her method of negotiation, during arguments or when I wouldn’t give in to her, was very persuasive.”
I roll my eyes. “Repeat after me: the sex was good, and I didn’t know how to find my balls.”
“Should I tell you where they kept ending up?” One corner of his mouth tips upward.
“Eww. No.” But I can’t help laughing. “You understand how dysfunctional that is?”
“Yep.” He angles his drink at me. “Hence you, here. Buffer, remember?”
“Right. Right. The sacrificial vagina.”
Brent sputters out his drink. “That’s not—”
“Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly. It’s not much of a sacrifice.
” I smirk. “I get that you think you’re too busy for a real relationship, and this isn’t me vying for the role, but you deserve someone who values who you are, and not what you can do for them.
” I hesitate. “Or maybe they can value that, too, but it shouldn’t be the only thing they value. ”
He gazes at me, and the intensity of it causes my stomach to flip.
Like so many others, I’ve viewed him from afar, but I didn’t know him.
To realize the guy I’ve been lusting after is standing in front of me, looking at me as though I’m the most interesting person in a crowd of people, is a heady sensation.
“I’m beginning to appreciate the value in a few things myself,” he says.
“Oh yeah?” The words tumble out just as another butterfly bursts out of its cocoon in my stomach.
“I’m glad you responded to my chat.”
“Why’s that?” I shouldn’t be pressing him. Confessions won’t help me keep some distance between us. We get this weekend together, and then I’m out.
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Turns out a witty woman with a heart of stone might be just what I need in my life.”
Another slew of butterflies breaks free, and heat rushes to my cheeks. “This weekend. What you need this weekend.”
“You didn’t even balk at my heart of stone comment.”
“Of course not. I’m allergic to commitment, and I enjoy my status as a nutcracker.”
“That imagery, Jensen.” He covers his fly with his hand.
When I grin in response, he loops his arm around my neck and drags me to him to kiss my temple. I settle against him, more content than I’d ever admit out loud.
“Brent,” a male voice calls from behind us. “I have some people for you to meet.”
With a sigh, Brent lets me go, and then he grabs my hand. “You up for socializing with more new people?”
“Always.” I let him lead me through the wedding guests, and the warmth from his hand travels straight to my heart.