THE ENGAGEMENT RING glimmering on Vivienne’s finger is easily the prettiest in the family. Good job he let us help instead of proposing with the monstrosity he bought or Vee would walk the streets wearing an oversized rock and risking being mugged.
With the rehearsal dinner done and the congratulations dying down, Colt pulls me outside for a smoke. Before we even leave the venue, all my other brothers follow suit.
“Jesus, Cody!” Conor snaps, his brows furrowed in frustration. “What were you thinking bringing Ana here?”
“This isn’t how you convince her to leave you alone,” Colt adds, shaking his head. “Why the hell is she here?”
Shawn steps forward, smacking the back of my head. “Use this sometimes, will you? She’s watching you like a lovesick puppy. How the hell do you expect to get a restraining order when you invite her as your plus one?”
“I’m guessing their reaction now is why you haven’t told anyone who you’re bringing,” Theo says, his voice even, almost amused, as he rests against the wall with a smirk. “You all should shut up and let him speak. What if they worked things out, and she’s the next Mrs. Hayes? You’ll regret barking at him.”
Nico snatches the pack of cigarettes from my hand, pulling one out, eyes drilling into me. “So, what’s going on?”
I run a hand down my face, the weight of their judgment a bit much to take in my current state. “Ana’s here as my friend.”
“A friend?” Conor scoffs. “Do you hear yourself? Cody, what the fuck? She’s been stalking you for weeks! She wouldn’t take no for an answer. You magically forget about that?”
“Damn, she must be good in bed,” Theo chirps.
“No, I didn’t forget about the stalking, but she apologized and explained she was having a rough time.”
Conor rolls his eyes. “You’re such a fucking do-gooder, Cody. It’s gonna come back and bite you in the ass.”
I knew Ana was struggling, but she illuminated the details in her letter and when she came by on Monday.
“She was depressed and couldn’t let me go because I was the only person who actually fucking listened to her,” I continue. “She’s better now she’s on antidepressants, and I am not sleeping with her.” I emphasize the last sentence.
I’m not sleeping with anyone considering my girlfriend dumped me five hours ago. For a moment, I wonder whether to tell them about Blair. I’m dying to get this off my chest. I need them… I need them to help me through this.
“Alright, if that’s really what it is and you trust her to behave, then fine,” Shawn says, kicking himself off the wall as he inhales a drag of his cigarette. “She can stay.”
“Excuse me?” My head snaps to him so fast I hear a crack. “What do you mean she can stay? That’s not up to you.”
“Technically, you’re right, but you really think I’d let a stalker, possibly a crazy person, stay here with our family and kids all weekend? I’m a cop, Cody. I’ve seen enough shit to know that would be a bad idea.”
I know he witnesses awful things every day, and he’s sensitive when it comes to safety, but it riles me up how fucking inconsiderate he can be sometimes.
“Alright,” Logan says, staring me down like he’s trying to ask questions telepathically. A small shake of my head is all I can give him and, with a tight nod, he continues, “The DJ’s staying until one in the morning, so let’s move. I need a drink, and I promised Cassidy a dance.”
I think that’s Logan’s subtle way of making sure this conversation is over so I don’t start spilling my guts. Good call.
There’ll be time for confessions on the flight back on Sunday. Only Nico won’t be there to hear my rant, as they drove here to spare Mia the flight. She was on Xanax when they flew to Europe, and Nico was not pleased.
While he should be the first one to find out, maybe it’s best if he’s the last. Maybe my brothers can help me prepare.
They all head back inside, but I linger in the garden, grabbing another smoke while checking my phone for messages from Blair. I have half a mind to hurl it across the lawn when I find nothing. I tried calling her a few times and I’ve sent too many texts demanding an explanation, but now I’ve calmed down, I send a very different message.
One that will hopefully strike the right nerve.
Me: I’m not letting you go without a fight, baby.
Enjoying my time here is almost fucking impossible while I don’t know what’s happening with the girl I love.
All I need is one text, confirmation that she’s safe. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself but not knowing what pushed her away has me running around in circles.
“When you refused to tell us who you’re bringing over, I thought you’d show up with Blair,” Colt says, making me jump.
I was certain he followed the others inside…
Fuck, I’m not getting out of this now. Lying is a possibility as valid as playing dumb, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure Colt figured this out a while ago. He was just giving me a chance to come to him first. Which obviously didn’t work.
I’m tired of evading his questions. We never kept secrets from each other, so instead of lying again, I pull the breakup napkin from my jacket pocket and tell God’s honest truth as I pass it over.
“That was the plan.”
What do you know? My voice fucking quivers. When did I become so weak? So whipped.
Crazy what love does to a man…
We’re not over, though; I need to focus on that before I have a meltdown. I won’t let her leave. Not unless she can honestly tell me she doesn’t love me and never could.
“That’s not what I expected,” Colt huffs, squeezing the nape of his neck as his eyes rake the words, his thumb grazing the airport logo. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He punches my shoulder hard enough to hurt. “I asked you so many times if you wanted to get something off your chest because I fucking knew.”
“I thought way too many times about calling you,” I sigh, staring into the sky. “What gave me away?”
He shrugs, raking his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Call it a triplet intuition.” He laughs without humor. “Conor knows too. He came to me a few weeks ago, subtly fishing for intel. He thought you’d told me and not him.”
“I didn’t share because I didn’t think there was anything worth sharing until last week. It’s not as if I brief you about every woman I fuck. B and I… we agreed to—”
The door slides open, and Conor pops his head out. “What are you still doing here? Your date looks mighty uncomfortable, bro,” he says, shooting me a meaningful glance. “What’s going on?”
“We were right,” Colt says, stretching out his hand to pass Conor the napkin. “You catch up, I’ll go grab a few beers, and then you can tell us exactly what happened, Cody.”
“Not now,” I say. “We’re here for Logan’s wedding. We can’t just vanish. I’ll tell you everything when the party’s over.”
That reminds me… I should talk to Rose about crashing in their room. I bet she’ll be thrilled about having her brother breathing down her neck and killing off any funny business.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Conor says, handing me back the napkin. “But just so you know? I’m pissed off you didn’t tell us sooner.” He doesn’t sound pissed, though. He sounds worried.
“Keep it between us, okay? I don’t want this to spoil the wedding.”
They nod, and we enter the venue where Vivienne and her best friend, Abby—Colt’s date—have adopted Ana into their circle. Dancing is the last thing on my mind, but, I invited Ana here so I shouldn’t mope all night. She deserves a bit of fun after the rough few months she’s had. With that in mind, I muster the energy to take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor.
***
It’s well past midnight before everyone retreats to their rooms, the bride not concerned about catching her beauty sleep. Noah and Eli are staying with their babysitter in a separate room, so Cassidy won’t have to keep getting up to feed Eli. I guess the eight hours of uninterrupted sleep she’ll have tonight is longer than she’s had since Noah was born.
I send Ana into our room and scratch the idea of crashing with Rose. Our room has a wide loveseat, so I’ll sleep there. That’s if I even make it upstairs before morning. The idea of hitting the bottle until I black out is tempting.
As if reading my mind, instead of beers, Colt joins me in the garden under a chiffon canopy covered with fresh flowers for the ceremony in the morning, armed with shot glasses and Patrón. “I thought you’d appreciate this.”
Instead of the chairs flanking a long wide carpet that serves as an aisle, we settle on a raised wooden platform where the piano for Mia’s performance will sit. They asked Mom to play throughout the ceremony, which meant focusing her attention on something other than Logan and Cassidy, so she framed Mia.
“Where’s Conor?” I ask, watching Colt unscrew the bottle. My stomach cramps at the strong smell of tequila wafting in the air, sending me down memory lane to Brandon’s house, and that first time I held Blair in my arms.
“Kissing his fiancée goodnight.”
“Close,” Conor says, stepping out of the darkness. “I was giving my fiancée a quick goodnight orgasm. She’ll be out cold before I make it back, so we wouldn’t have had our engagement night otherwise.”
“That’s not a thing,” Colt laughs, offering Conor a shot glass, then swiftly yanking it back as he reaches for it. “Did you wash your hands?”
“I didn’t use hands, bro.”
“Touché.”
We knock back a shot, their expectant gazes on me.
“I’m in love with her,” I admit, pulling out the big guns. “I don’t know how or when exactly, but I am.” I run a hand down my face, squeezing the shot glass just shy of hard enough to break it. “We agreed to casual sex, laid ground rules—”
“I guess keeping it a secret was one of them?” Conor asks.
“Yeah. She didn’t say why she wanted to keep it a secret—”
“That was her rule?” Colt grabs the bottle, pouring another round. “I figured you kept it on the down-low because of Mia.”
“That would’ve been my reason if I hadn’t got to know Blair better. She told me her side of the story but never made excuses. She owned up to everything…” I crack my neck left and right, staring at the white flowers above.
“What did she say?” Conor urges quietly, raising his shot.
“It’s not my story to tell. Blair needs a chance to clear the air with Mia before I tell you what I know. That’s if I get her back.”
“They already talked,” Colt chimes in, and my spine goes rigid as a titanium rod. “She stopped by the day after the graduation party. You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Did they—” I halt, remembering Mia was in Europe with Nico that weekend. “Mia wasn’t home,” I say quietly. “What did you tell Blair?”
“To try another day.” He shrugs, throwing tequila down his throat.
Him and his fucking tension-building pauses. “And?” I urge, my jaw ticking. “Did she come back?”
“Yeah, a few days later. They talked. Nico was with them the whole time. I don’t know what they talked about, but Blair didn’t leave in tears, and Mia just said she was okay.”
Why didn’t Blair mention this? Why didn’t Mia?
Blair went to see her way before we accidentally ended up in bed yet never said a word. It’s not like she didn’t have the time or the opportunity. She could’ve mentioned it when she told me why she bullied Mia in the first place.
I whip my cigarettes out and light one up, the smoke filling my lungs a plausible tranquilizer.
“Alright, keep talking, bro. I want the whole story,” Conor encourages with a hard slap on my back. “How did it start? How did you go from hating her to whipping your dick out.”
I get comfortable, resting against one of the pillars holding the canopy over the platform. “I got to know her first. We weren’t talking until she helped me with River one day, and then slowly, we built up on that. A sentence here, two there…” Colt takes my shot glass, filling it to the brim before handing it back. “One day, Ana came over,” I continue. “While she was accusing me of cheating, Blair rounded the corner. I saw an opportunity to get rid of Ana, so I grabbed Blair, acted distraught that she caught us, and, putting on a show, I kissed her.”
Memories flood back. That one kiss—hands down—the best moment of my life. The second my lips touched hers, I was doomed. Cupid, bow, arrow.
“And then?” Colt asks. “Stop daydreaming and talk.”
“I don’t know…” I sigh. “Something just fucking clicked. It was supposed to be a quick peck, but before I knew it, I slammed her against the wall. We were seconds away from fucking right there in the hallway.”
“Jesus,” Conor chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Is this what I sounded like when I complained Vee didn’t want to go out with me?” He thrusts another shot glass toward me, downing his own simultaneously with Colt. “Too many details, bro.”
“That’s exactly what you sounded like,” Colt agrees, an effortless grin playing on his lips. “And you…” He points at me, “…spare us the details.”
“Okay, fine. Fast forward a bit. We agreed to casual sex, and Blair insisted we revert to nothing more than polite heys in passing. No kissing, no sweet talk, no talk at all. We were just supposed to use each other in bed.”
“But that backfired, didn’t it?”
“Big time. We were casual for a while, but before I knew it, what I didn’t want to happen to her, happened to me. I caught feelings. I tricked her into kissing me, locked her in my condo, and didn’t let her leave until she ate dinner with me…”
Conor rolls his eyes. Too bad he’s not so prone to keeping his stories PG-rated whenever he talks about Vivienne.
“When did you decide to take it up a step?” Colt asks.
“Last week. Just before the bachelor party.”
“I fucking knew it!” Conor booms, his voice carrying over the pristine lawn. “You were so fucking happy, and you barely looked at any girls all weekend. Damn, I’m good.”
Colt, more composed, raises a questioning eyebrow. “And the wedding? Quite risky bringing her here, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I know, but to be perfectly honest, I was dying to see your faces when you saw us walk in together.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” He exhales a long breath, looking up to the star-studded sky, theatrically mouthing thank you. “I was freaking out you’d kept quiet because you’re as stupid as Logan and thought we’d stop talking to you.”
We all chuckle, remembering the name-calling that went down when Logan proudly announced he was in love with Cassidy and would choose her and—unborn at the time—Noah, no matter what we thought.
“Maybe if that situation with Logan never happened, I would’ve been more worried,” I admit, passing Colt my shot glass. “I remember what Nico said, so I know that nothing, least of all love, would make you turn on me.”
“Say what you will, but I think we turned out better than they did,” Conor muses, raising his shot glass higher as if making a toast. “We learned from their mistakes, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.” Colt’s face softens. “Way to drive the point home, though. Big-headed as always,” he quips, clinking his shot to ours. “So what happened today? Why isn’t she here?”
The tequila burns going down, warming my chest. Too bad it doesn’t dull the ache ripping my heart open all over again. “That’s the thing. You’ve got as much information as I do. B was nervous all week but woke up excited this morning. I left her in the departure lounge for five fucking minutes while I went to buy coffee. She was gone when I came back, and some random guy gave me that napkin.”
“Sounds like she got cold feet, bro. She’ll probably apologize when you get back. You’ll be fine.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s something else. It’s not me. At least I don’t think it’s me.”
“Time.” Colt makes a T using his hands. “We need another bottle. Hold on a sec.”
However many drinks he had before we started the Patrón are showing in his steps as he zig-zags toward the hotel. He’s quick, though, back inside three minutes with two bottles.
“If we drink this, we’ll end up sleeping right here,” Conor says but still downs his shot with a grin. “Alright, so how does Ana factor into all this? Last-minute decision? Is she the reason you had to take another flight?”
“Yeah, Blair bolted forty minutes before take-off.” I fall back, lying flat on the wooden platform, staring at the flowers, chiffon, and stars. “I shouldn’t have brought Ana here. I called her two minutes after I read Blair’s note. I hadn’t processed what it said, and on our way here, I realized this can’t be it. There’s something I’m not seeing.”
We keep talking while the second bottle of tequila empties at a steady pace. By the time my wristwatch reads three in the morning the world blurs and sways as we stumble into the hotel lobby.
We’re trashed.
I can’t remember the last time I was this drunk, but I’m feeling a little better now that I got everything off my chest. Now that I know my brothers have my back no matter what happens. It’s been a while since we had a good heart-to-heart. I fucking missed spending quality time with them. After all, that’s what family is about. We stick together through the highs and the lows.
“Fuck, I sure hope we’ll be up in time for the ceremony,” Conor mumbles while an imaginary tornado in the lobby tosses him about. “I’m so drunk. Vee’s not gonna be pleased.”
“We’ll be golden,” Colt slurs, phone in hand.
He stops by the stairs, narrowing his eyes at the screen, his feet spread for balance, upper body swaying wildly.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Shut up. I can’t see when you talk.”
Conor chuckles, resting against the wall, his head down as if eyeing his shoes, but I think he’s nodding off.
We’re definitely not waking up on time.
I already feel like I’m rolling down a steep hill. The world tips sideways, something hits my ribs, then my head, and many hands grip my arms, hauling me up.
Ah, so I did roll down. Not a hill, though. The stairs.
That’ll hurt tomorrow.
