“She actually did it,” Lauren said as I saddled up to them. “Have you ever even said I love you before?”
The fact that I had to think about it was telling. “I mean, I have loved guys before.” Like my guy best friend, Keane. Who had once been my boyfriend before the romantic feelings between us had dissolved. But love as in an earth-shattering, Celine Dion ballad kind of way? Nope, couldn’t relate. At all. Which was probably why it’d been easy to tell that dark smokeshow of a man that I loved him.
I’d meant what I’d said—I hoped to see him again. But this was Vegas and the hotel we were in wasn’t exactly small. And I hadn’t even gotten his last name.
“Whose turn is it for a truth or dare?” Bekka asked, interrupting my thoughts from the stranger and turning my attention back to the bridal party.
4
Seth leaned on the bar, giving the bartender a devilish grin as he asked for another round for the group of us. After a morning of golf and an afternoon at a favorite Japanese restaurant eating our fill, the beers weren’t hitting me. I was still sober, which made all this small talk when I was already mentally preoccupied so much more complicated. Vince, our other buddy, was busy attempting to get a number from a woman further down the bar. And Chad, our super busy friend that rounded out our tight friend group had disappeared for a call from his wife thirty minutes before. Seth raked a hand through the hair that hung in front of his face and exhaled as he slid into the seat beside me. “You okay, man?” he asked, clapping me on the back. And just as suddenly as his hand left my back he breathed in through his teeth. “Fuck. Of course you’re not okay. None of us are. It doesn’t feel right. It’s hard to remember that things are different now.”
“Don’t I know it.” I tipped the beer back, taking a mouthful. “He should be here, conning unsuspecting patrons into bar games or challenging us to a game of pool that he already knows he’ll win.”
“Or talking us into jumping out of an airplane. Again.”
Laughing, I rubbed at the condensation on the side of my dark bottle. “Have you been by his mom’s?”
Seth grinned at the bartender and slid a five across the bar toward her before he turned his attention back to me. “No. The guys and I were going to go Sunday after breakfast. See what they need.”
The guys he referred to were the other two currently busy members of our friend group. I didn’t miss his wince when he said, “The guys and I,”—which did not include me.
“Mind if I come along?” I couldn’t sit in my hotel room on my laptop for the next three days, waiting for the service. Sunday was two days away. I could manage it.
“You sure you want to? I know you’re busy.”
Busy. The word I used far too often with Seth, Vince, Chad, and especially Will. Too busy for the guys’ trip to the Caymans. Too busy to go paragliding, to go cave diving, or to surf in Australia. But the truth of it was that I was in charge of my work schedule, for the most part. I could do those things with them. Instead, I chose to avoid things that were inherently risky—like the trip I’d bailed on at the last minute, Will’s final trip.
Before my mom died, I did everything with them. But becoming essentially orphaned at twenty-two and being dumped with every fucking adult thing I was ill-equipped for had turned me into the dad of the group. It was always, “That sounds fun, but work has been rough lately, so…” The truth was, it was easier to make up bullshit like that than to admit that I was too afraid to take the risk.
“I can come,” I said, avoiding looking at him as I stared into the bottle. Did he and the other guys harbor some resentment toward me for not going on the trip with Will? I wouldn’t blame them if they did. Because I certainly blamed myself.
Vince joined our group, flapping a piece of paper in his hand, a smug grin on his face. “She’s a yoga instructor.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Flexible.”
“It’s only sexy if you’re as flexible,” Seth said and tipped his beer. “Trust me.”