space are on them. Tears are falling, hands are clutching, and when I glance over at the long table where Maggie is sitting beside Zach, I have the distinct need to join them. Instead, I keep myself busy, checking on the food and keeping everything hot for the guests.
“Desmond,” Chloe says with a laugh as she approaches. I’m currently straightening up, using a butter knife to scrape the fallen breadcrumbs off the tablecloth of the buffet table. “What are you doing?”
I grin and gesture to the empty buffet. “Just trying to keep busy. Congratulations, by the way. This is a beautiful wedding.”
Her eyes soften, and she places her hands on her hips. “Thank you, but I’ll be forced to leave a horrid review for your services if you don’t join in on the fun.”
I shake my head, feeling flustered. “No, I couldn’t. You’re paying me to keep your guests full.”
“And you’ve done that superbly. Now come join us.”
Gavin comes up behind her and places his arms around Chloe. “What my wife is trying to say is that you weren’t just invited here to cater the event. We’d love for you to join us. In fact, I’m heading to the bar now. What’s your poison?”
Against my better judgment—and not wanting to be rude—I join Gavin at the bar on the other side of the dance floor. He gets me a beer, and while we’re still there, one of the groomsmen buys everyone at the bar a shot of whiskey. Again, I don’t want to be rude.
The next thing I know, Zach is joining us at the bar to grab a water, and Gavin is sneaking off to find his bride. “Finally coming to join the party, huh?”
I shrug. “Guess so, dude. Where’s your girl? She was pretty excited to see you.”
Zach points at a couple of girls in the center of the dance floor. Maggie and Monica are laughing as they dance all-out with some crazy dance moves. Arms are flying, hips are bumping, and I can’t help but smile at seeing Maggie have so much fun.
“So what’s your deal with Maggie. You like her?”
The question catches me so off guard, I yank my eyes from the girls and narrow them at Zach. Meanwhile, my heart is beating a million miles an hour in my chest. “What? No, dude. We hate each other, remember?”
Zach narrows his eyes. “Yeah, I’m starting to think you two hate each other a little too much. You care about her. I didn’t see it before, but I do now.”
I scoff and shake my head. “I’m with her all the time, thanks to you and Monica. We drive each other fucking nuts. Don’t start this with me, okay?”
I don’t know why I’m so insistent on making Zach believe my lies, but he doesn’t seem to be buying it at all.
“You’re a grown-ass man, dude. Just be careful, okay? Maggie isn’t someone you should mess around with if you aren’t going to take it seriously.”
This time I remain silent, and I know it’s as much of an admission as I’ll allow. It’s not like I’m fooling him anyway. Zach is my best friend. If anyone’s going to see through my bullshit, it’s him.
Zach reaches around me and squeezes my neck. “Anyway, have fun tonight, dude. I haven’t seen you do that since our trip to Hawaii last year.”
I sigh, not wanting to point out that I had a great time last week at a concert with Maggie, a night I would love to redo if I could. Except instead of pulling her into the back seat, I would have pulled her into the front. Okay, scratch that. If we’re talking about redos, then I would go back to that first night she got into my car when I failed to mention the truth about where I got it.
Zach doesn’t stick around. The moment he gets his water, he takes off for Monica, and I’m left peering at the dance floor from the bar.
I try not to glare at Justin, who just asked Maggie to dance and is currently trying to pull her closer to him. She’s laughing, leaning into him, and getting a little too comfortable in his arms. They’re friends, so I get it. But when one, two, three songs later, they’re still dancing together, I start to feel my patience unravel.
I’m two seconds away from throwing a wrench into their little dance-off when Justin whispers something in Maggie’s ear then heads toward the bar. And there