Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,438

her. I wonder what prompted the change.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

Gigi’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and I snap my eyes back to hers. “Everything’s great.”

“Are you sure?” She looks at me through narrow eyes. I feel like she’s using her mystical aunt powers to penetrate my thoughts. When I was younger, I was convinced she was a witch. I’m not quite sure that juvenile thought ever died.

“Of course.” I retrieve my cell from my pocket and check my messages. Nothing. When I shove my phone back into my jeans, I meet Gigi’s eyes. “Has Brooklyn stopped by?” I ask, although I know I’ll regret it.

“No…,” she drags out, placing her hands on her hips. “Is there a reason she’d be stopping by on a day she normally doesn’t?”

I lean closer, lowering my voice. “She said she wanted to go to the museum with us.”

“Why are you whispering?” she asks quietly, her tone mimicking mine.

“Because I don’t want to tell the girls in case she doesn’t show.” I gesture toward where they each sit on a stool in front of the bar. The area isn’t lit since it’s still too early to serve alcohol, but that doesn’t bother them. They eat their muffins, staring at the framed photos of famous sports stars lining the wall above the liquor shelves, able to name every single one of them.

“And why wouldn’t she show?” Gigi presses.

“Because she was supposed to get her engagement photos done today, then meet with the caterer and florist.”

“Supposed to?” She lifts a brow, her posture perking up. A slow smile crawls across her lips as she tilts her head, inching even closer.

“Yeah.” I could embellish further, but I’m not sure what to say. All I know is one minute, Brooklyn was happy to continue with the wedding planning; the next, she started shunning her responsibilities.

“Interesting.” She pinches her chin, tapping her forefinger against her lips. I can sense the wheels turning in her head.

“What is it? Do you know something?”

She seems to contemplate for a moment before she returns her eyes to mine, clasping her hands together. “You’ve still got a shot, my boy.” Then she retreats, heading toward the dining area to clear some tables.

“A shot?” I repeat, following close on her heels. “What do you mean?”

She grabs a few plates off a recently vacated table, bringing them toward the bus bins. I help her, hoping the less distracted she is, the more likely she’ll explain what she’s talking about.

“Exactly what I said. It’s not over yet. You didn’t screw things up.” She heads back toward the coffee station and grabs a dish towel, wiping the counters free from coffee and sugar residue.

“Screw things up? It wasn’t my fault in the first place.”

Gigi stops what she’s doing and clutches my cheeks in her hands, pulling me toward her so I no longer tower over her like I usually do. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Her bright smile falls, her expression turning severe. “So don’t ruin it.”

“You’re not making any sense,” I say in exasperation when she releases her hold on me, walking away. “How can I ruin something that’s not there?”

She bends over to wipe a table, then shoots me a sly look. “Oh, it’s there. You just have to work a little harder for it this time around.”

I throw my hands up, this conversation seeming to go nowhere. “I give up.”

“No, no, no!” She hurries toward me, grabbing my hands. “Don’t give up. Just keep doing whatever you have been because it’s working!” There’s an excitement in her eyes as she bounces on her feet. “You’re getting to her. You’re getting through to her!”

“To who?” I ask, confused.

“To Brooklyn.” She releases an exasperated breath. “She’s blowing off her engagement photos today. It may be due to something Wes or his mother did, but if that’s the case, she could just as easily stay home. She’s not. She wants to spend the day with you. That must count for something.”

“I told you, Gigi,” I say in a serious voice. “Brooklyn’s a friend. Nothing more.”

“So you’ve been saying, but you can’t hide the truth from me, even if you try to hide it from yourself. You love her. You always have. You always will. She’s the reason you married Carla, how you hoped she’d help you forget how you feel about Brooklyn. You never have. And you never will. Your love for her is too deep, too strong, too powerful. It’s time you finally—”

“Drew?”

I whirl around to see Brooklyn