years,” he argued. “You don’t have to be in love to be married.”
“Maybe you don’t. But I do.”
As I said the words that I’d thought I’d be saying at the end of an aisle, not during a breakup, I knew that the only way I would ever say them in the original context was if Billy was standing in front of me.
CHAPTER 51
Billy
“I ordered a mojito.”
I looked down and saw that I’d just served a black and tan. It wasn’t the first mistake I’d made tonight and I doubted it would be the last.
“Right, sorry.”
“I’ve got it.” Cash appeared beside me and grabbed a Collins glass. “Hank’s in the office. He wants to talk to you.”
I checked the time. It was half past midnight. My night was almost over. Whatever he needed to say could wait until the morning. “I’ll talk to him later. We’re slammed.”
“Go talk to your brother. You’re not a lot of help, anyway.”
I wished I could argue, but I knew I couldn’t. I was getting more orders wrong than I was getting right. With a frustrated sigh I poured the black and tan down the sink.
As I walked down the hall to the office I remembered Reagan following me out as I carried Cheyenne to my truck. So much had happened since that night. It felt like a lifetime ago.
I’d known then that she was special, that there was something different about her. But I never would’ve guessed that I’d be this in love with her.
As soon as I walked in I found Hank seated behind my desk. He looked up when he heard the door. “Have you heard from Reagan?”
I shook my head no, feeling like I’d just been called into the principal’s office. After she’d left, I’d come straight to the bar because I hadn’t wanted to answer a million questions from Jimmy. The last person that I thought would show up asking about her was Hank.
“You love her.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
I didn’t respond. What was I going to say? Yes, I love her. And right now she’s with the man that she was supposed to be marrying tomorrow? Or actually, since it was midnight, today.
Knowing that Reagan had an ex and meeting him face to face were two very different things. Now he wasn’t an abstract thing that I could pretend didn’t exist. He was real. And he couldn’t be more different than me.
Physically, we looked nothing alike. Besides being a couple inches shorter than me, his blond hair was cut short and styled within an inch of his life. My brown hair always looked like it was a few weeks overdue for a trim. My “personal style” could be best described as “just tumbled out of bed” and I liked it that way.
He had ice blue, deep-set eyes and a clean-shaven face. Stubble covered my jaw and my eyes were the same color as a shot of whiskey.
But that wasn’t what I was talking about. All of that was surface shit. He was polished and refined. I had more beer in my fridge than actual food. He had a law degree. I had a high school diploma. He had a manicure and I had calluses. His watch cost more than my truck.
I just couldn’t fathom a world where someone could’ve loved him and then also love me. There was no question that Reagan had loved Blaine. Hell, if she hadn’t walked in on him, she would probably just be getting home from her bachelorette party.
But me? I had no idea how she felt about me. I thought I could tell from the connection we shared but maybe Jimmy had been right. Maybe I was a rebound. Maybe I was just projecting what I felt onto Reagan.
“What are you going to do about it?” Hank asked, snapping me back to the present moment.
“What am I going to do about what?”
“About Reagan.”
“What about Reagan?”
“Are you gonna be with her?”
“What is this, TMZ?”
“I just…” Hank looked down at the desk as he ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Hank had never given a shit about anyone I’d been with. And the closest thing to a heart-to-heart we’d ever had was when he gave me a box of condoms on my fourteenth birthday and told me he didn’t want to be an uncle. It was odd but, I had to admit, kinda sweet seeing him worried about me.