This is even worse than I was expecting.
I knew my parents would go all out tonight. My mom has dreamed of snagging Parker as a daughter-in-law since she knew her best friend was having a girl.
Lucky for her, my mother had two sons for her best friend’s daughter to choose between. And I’m sure she’s happy Jameson is the one Parker settled on.
I can’t picture myself in his place anyway, standing by the stage that contains an eight-piece orchestra. If I get married, which is a big if, this isn’t what the engagement party will look like. Doubt I’d even have an engagement party. As far as I can tell, it’s totally unnecessary. Just an excuse to spend a bunch of money on flowers and food and clothes before spending even more money on flowers and food and clothes for the wedding.
I tug at the constrictive collar of my shirt, then take another swig of scotch. The only reason I’d ever be excited about dressing up is if it was for an away game.
The open bar is the one upside I’ve discovered about this evening so far. And I’m remaining close by it, because I have a feeling I’ll need to.
I arrived in LA a couple of hours ago, and I’m ready to leave. Even the sunshine and dry air aren’t enough of an enticement to stay. I had to miss afternoon practice to make my flight and my phone has been buzzing incessantly with messages about parties taking place tonight. All places I’d rather be.
Somerville is home now.
Not…this. Even if I wasn’t here for the reason I am, I’d be just as miserable. All of my friends are away at school, so there’s no one in town I want to hang out with.
I had an awkward reunion with my parents, which was expected. My dad was on a work call when the car they arranged from the airport dropped me off at my childhood home, and my mom was with two stylists having her hair done for tonight.
After showering and eating a snack, I changed into the tux I’m wearing. Most of the long trip here was my parents coordinating on who they’d talk to tonight, while I stared out the window at the standstill traffic. A five-mile drive took almost an hour.
I haven’t spoken to Jameson yet. Or Parker. Just observed them from afar, playing the part of the happy couple. I know them both well enough to see through the fake smiles.
“Aidan! How are you?”
I straighten to shake the hand of my father’s friend. “I’m good, thanks. Nice to see you, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Michael, please.” He smiles before ordering a drink from the bartender, then turns back to me. “How’s school going?”
“Fine, thanks.”
Not a lie for once, thanks to my recent studious streak. I caught up with all my reading on the three-hour flight here.
“And hockey?”
I grin. “Great. We should have a shot at a championship.”
“That’s fantastic. Lincoln mentioned you were having a great season.”
I could have quit the hockey team freshman year and my father would have no clue. He’s never been to a game or asked me about the team. As far as he knows, they’ve all been “great seasons.”
But I’m here to play a part too, and it’s not the role of a resentful son complaining to one of my father’s friends and business associates that my dad doesn’t give a shit about what makes me happy and considers hockey a waste of time.
“We are.”
“Have you given any thought to what you’ll do after graduation?”
I shake my head instead of bullshitting an answer like I probably should.
Michael Mitchell is a big deal, according to my father. If my dad was standing here, he would be flashing his widest, false smile and making something up about how I have so many opportunities to choose between but am keeping my options open.
“I’m always looking for new talent. Just say the word and I can put in a good one for you.” He winks, pulling a business card out of his pocket and passing it to me.
I’m not sure exactly what Michael does, but I do know he’s quite successful at it.
I also know I don’t want to use my family’s connections to get ahead.
“Appreciate that, sir,” I say, tucking the card into my pocket.
“I should go say hi to the Andersons,” he tells me. “Good luck with the rest of your season, Aidan. I’m sure I’ll see you at the wedding.”
I nod and force a smile, unable to muster a more enthusiastic response to the reminder.
Once Michael leaves, I ask the bartender for a refill. Drop a hefty tip into his jar and then abandon my spot, heading for the terrace that overlooks the ocean. I get stopped several times by friends of my family’s, but finally make it to the door.
The party is at some fancy restaurant that’s a favorite of my parents. I’m not a fan of the food here, which is filled with weird, exotic ingredients, but the view from this place is incredible. The sun set over the sparkling water a while ago, the lights from the restaurant now reflecting off the waves.
I step outside, pulling in a deep inhale of salty air as I walk toward the railing. It’s warmer here than it was when I left Washington this morning, hovering in the high fifties. And still, I can’t wait to get home.
I stare out at what little I can see of the water, entertaining the idea of going for a swim.
Enjoy imagining the looks on my parents’ faces if I returned to the party with wet hair, smelling like seaweed.
“You lost me a hundred bucks, you know.”
I turn, my fingers automatically tightening around the glass I’m holding as I watch Parker stroll toward me.
She looks absolutely stunning, her blonde hair styled elaborately and her makeup flawless. The pink gown she’s wearing literally glimmers, only outshined by the massive diamond dwarfing her ring finger.
But something about her beauty bothers me in a way it never did before.
It’s all manufactured, even the white fur wrapped around her shoulders suggesting pure innocence.
Her tone is calculated instead of unfiltered. Soft and melodic, meant to entice.
I can’t recognize the pretty girl who used to chase me around my parents’ backyard laughing and barefoot anywhere in her appearance, and it adds some sadness to the resentment.
Without asking, I know what she bet on.
“You should know Lincoln better than that,” I tell her. “I could have been dying in a ditch somewhere and he would have dragged me out, shoved me into this tux, and ensured I ended up here.”
“You look good for being grievously injured.”
I don’t pay her any compliments, just sip some scotch.
“It’s nice to see you.”
Again, I don’t respond.
Her head tilts strategically as she studies me. “Jameson said you had fun in Vail.”
I scoff, then take another drink. At this rate, I’ll need another refill in a few minutes. “So did he.”
I’m sure she knows he’s fucking around on the side.
Sure enough, Parker’s expression doesn’t change. “How’s school?”
“Can we skip the small talk?”
“Sure. What are you doing after this?”
“Flying home.”
“Your mom said you’re not leaving until tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, what are you doing tonight? We could meet in the pool house…”
I stare at her, sure I’m misunderstanding. That she’s not suggesting what I think she’s suggesting.
But I’m not reading her wrong.
Parker takes a step closer, the look on her face one I’ve seen many times before.
“You’re delusional,” I tell her.
“I’m practical, Aidan. Marrying Jameson makes sense. But I’m not in love with him. It would be just like before—”
“Nothing is like before, Parker. Little tip? If you want to hook up with a guy, don’t break up with him, then get engaged to his brother. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“It was more complicated than that,” she tells me.
I shake my head. “Maybe you want to remember things differently now, but that’s what happened then.”
“So I messed up. Is that what you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything to me. I wish I could never see you again, but you made damn sure I’d have to, didn’t you?”
Parker moves closer. More of her mask falls. Or maybe she’s just swapping it for a different one, biting her bottom lip and fluttering her eyelashes. “Remember how good it was between us?”
Jesus. I was not prepared for this. I was expecting to have the happy couple act shoved down my throat, same as it’s been every other time I’ve been forced to be around Parker and Jameson since they started dating. Not for her to start walking down memory lane and expect me to follow.
“You’re marrying my brother,” I remind her. “We’re at your engagement party.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because it kinda seems like you forgot.”
“I just…you came.” She looks young, all of sudden. But not happy, like in my memories.
“Because of Jameson, not you. And yeah, it was good between us. We were kids, and it was easy. You ended it, Parker. Years ago. Get over it, because I did. I’m never going to touch you again. If you’re miserable, that’s not my fault or my problem.”
I step back, adjusting the buttons of my jacket the way Jameson always does before dismissing someone. Based on the way Parker’s left eye twitches, she doesn’t appreciate the reminder of her fiancé.
“I’m not miserable,” she snaps.
“Great,” I drawl. “Is Nicole single? She’s one of your bridesmaids, right? I always thought she was hot.”
“I have no idea,” Parker replies airily.
Lies, I’m sure.
I leave her standing alone and walk back inside the restaurant, draining the rest of my glass in one gulp.
I should find Nicole. She hit on me a lot back when Parker and I were together, which is why I mentioned her name specifically.
Hell, any hot girl here would be a welcome distraction from this shitty evening.
But instead of searching out company, I decide to head straight for the exit.
“Aidan!”
I swear under my breath, my steps barely slowing as my father calls out my name.
His footsteps sound a second later, his dress shoes slapping a sharp staccato against the marble floor.
I sigh and turn, stuffing my fisted hands into my pockets.
“Where are you going?” my father demands.
We look a lot alike, my dad and I. Same light brown hair. Same green eyes. Same height. I’m practically a carbon copy of him, whereas Jameson is more a mix of our parents. Ironic, considering Jameson is identical to him in every other way. I’ve seen the same polite scowl my dad is aiming at me on my brother’s face before.
He already knows the answer, but it’s not a rhetorical question.
“I’m leaving,” I respond. “Gotta get a good night’s sleep before the early as fuck flight your assistant booked me on.”
“We’re hosting tonight,” he tells me. “It’s rude to leave before the guests.”
“I showed up. I wore the tux. I ate the gross food. I laughed at all the stupid jokes. What else do you want from me, Dad?”
“Leaving early wasn’t the deal, Aidan.”
“Negotiate the terms better next time then. I’ll see you at the wedding. Assuming you and Mom won’t make it to graduation, since none of your snobby friends will be there to judge your parenting.”
“Watch your mouth,” he snaps. “You are part of this family, and tonight is about supporting your brother.”
“He’s marrying my ex-girlfriend. You don’t see how that could be kinda awkward?”
“You and Parker dated as children. She and Jameson are a serious couple.”
Based on the conversation we had out on the terrace, I’d be willing to bet my trust fund that my childish relationship with Parker was a hell of a lot more serious than hers and Jameson’s is. As far as I know, she never cheated while she was dating me.
But I know that’s an argument I’ll never win with my father, and I don’t care enough to have it. I meant what I told Parker—I’m over her. I just resent how she’s affected my relationship with my family. How I’ve heard some variation of what my dad just told me from my parents ever since they started dating and how it’s a reminder they always prioritize Jameson over me.
“If you say so. I’m still leaving.”
“Don’t be selfish, Aidan.”
“Coming from the man who threatened to cut me off if I didn’t show up tonight. Who were you thinking about then, Dad? Not me.”
His fake smile falters. He clears his throat, then adjusts his cufflinks. “You’re making a scene, son.”
“If I stay, I’ll make a bigger one. Bar is still open, and I haven’t met all of Parker’s bridesmaids yet…”
My father clicks his tongue with disgust, then turns away. “Fine. Take the car, send the driver back after he drops you off.”
Part of me wants to reject the dismissal and stay anyway. Do exactly what I just threatened to.
But I don’t care enough. Riling up my dad is no longer the fun time it used to be. It seems like a waste of one now. I’d rather have none of his attention than more disappointment and disapproval. And I’m not petty enough to hook up with one of Parker’s bridesmaids just to piss her off. Having sex with a random girl would be about trying to get Rylan out of my head.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
My dad shakes his head at my sarcastic tone. “Grow up, Aidan,” he says. “And roll down the windows on the drive home. You reek of scotch. I don’t want to ride home in a car that smells like a distillery.”
Before I leave the restaurant, I order one last glass. I drain half, then take it with me to the car and spill the rest in the footwell. Slump back against the soft leather seat, staring out at the city lights as we crawl down the street.
Tomorrow, I’ll stop being spiteful.
Tomorrow, I’ll grow up.
