Lovestruck: A Romantic Comedy Standalone Page 16

  She shakes her head. “You know, I even … When I saw that post about him, my first thought was how glad I was I’d found a guy I was so happy with that seeing it didn’t bring up any of those old feelings.”

  “Right,” I tell her, relieved. “Aaron didn’t matter to you, because you have such a great thing with Trevor. You’re happy, you’ve been building this future together, you know it’s going to be a great one.” I squeeze her shoulder. “I’ve watched you two together for years—I know it will be. You guys are the real thing. Next week we’ll all be back home, and I’ll be back to single life, and you’ll think it’s ridiculous you were ever stressing over that other guy at all,” I add, trying to sound upbeat, for her sake.

  “Yeah.” Brooke exhales with a shaky giggle. “I’m so sorry, Ruby. I’m being such a flake.”

  “Hey.” I smile. “Normally you’re the most put-together person I know. I think you’re still well below your flakiness quota for the week, let alone a lifetime. Are you feeling better now?”

  “I think so.” She straightens up, looking calmer now. “It’s not like I ever didn’t want to marry Trevor. I just wasn’t sure—I want to know I’m doing the right thing. But you’re right. I should trust the way I’ve felt all that time before this, not a bunch of sudden doubts that don’t even make sense.”

  “There you go.” I stand up and offer my hand to help her up too. “Now let’s get you back to the bridal suite. We still need to embarrass you with lingerie and sex toys before you can be allowed to walk down the aisle.”

  Brooke groans, but she follows me. As we reach the steps to the pool deck, I see a figure just disappearing into the lobby. Was that Will’s muscular frame and dark hair? Damn. In my worrying over Brooke, I forgot we’d made maybe-plans.

  “Will?” I call out, hurrying up the steps, but the guy doesn’t stop walking. By the time I reach the doors, he’s nowhere to be seen. Between the dim lighting outside and the brief moment I saw him for, I’m not all that sure it even was Will.

  “Ruby?” Brooke asks, looking concerned. “Did you have plans? Because you should go, and meet him, or whatever—”

  “Nope!” There’s no way I’m leaving Brooke’s side for the rest of the night after all this anyway. “I’m all yours.”

  On our way to the elevator, I shoot him a quick text asking for a rain check. We’ve still got tomorrow night. No matter what I just told Brooke, parting ways with him at the end of this week is going to hurt. Bad. But it’ll take the apocalypse or worse to keep me from enjoying the sizzle between us all the way to the end.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The morning after the bachelorette hurts like hell. The first thing I do when I wake up is wince, cover my eyes, and wish I’d drank at least ten more gallons of water to wash away all of last night’s alcohol. The second thing I do is grab my phone.

  Will still hasn’t replied to last night’s text. Well, who knows what exploits he and the guys might have gotten up to? So today we see the happy couple tie the knot, I dash off. How about some happy coupling afterward? Kissy face emoji. Too mushy? Or just dirty enough?

  Send.

  Brooke stirs on the other side of the king-sized bed. I sit up. “How are you feeling?” I ask quietly.

  Brooke blinks. A slow smile stretches across her face. “Good. Really good. I’m getting married today, Ruby!”

  I laugh, relief washing over me. “Yes, you are. And you’re going to look absolutely gorgeous while you’re doing it.”

  Maggie calls up room service for breakfast. After I’ve gulped down coffee and toast and eggs—and made sure Brooke has eaten enough to keep her conscious through the excitement—I check to confirm the hairstylist and makeup artist are on their way up. We wash up and the three of us help each other into our lilac gowns. Brooke and I picked out the perfect style. Somehow the mermaid fit manages to both add an elegant sleekness to Maggie’s curves and give Lulu’s slim frame some oomph.

  Lulu admires herself in the mirror while wiggling her feet into her shoes. She lets out a squeak. I glance over just as the low heel pops off one of her beaded sandals.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever really worn them!” she protests, glaring at it.

  Brooke’s eyes widen, but I dart in there before she has to say a word.

  “I’ve got this.” I pull a piece of sandpaper out of the Maid of Honor kit bag I assembled a couple weeks ago and hold out my hand. Lulu gives me the broken sandal with a skeptical look.

  “You just roughen up the surface.” I scratch the sandpaper against the errant heel. “And then you glue that sucker right back on.” Out of the kit comes the super glue. I smear it all over the base and fix the heel in place. “Give it at least ten minutes to dry, and it should hold you through the day, at least.”

  “Wow,” Brooke says. “Is there anything you’re not prepared for?”

  I grin at her. “I looked up a list of essentials online. This didn’t seem like a good day for winging it.”

  “And your BFF is eternally grateful.”

  The makeup artist grabs Brooke first. I submit to the hairstylist’s attentions. To distract myself from the yanking and twisting and spraying going on around my scalp, I pull out my phone.

  No new texts. Strange. But then, Will could still be sleeping. The guys’ side doesn’t have half as much prep to get through. Or his battery could be dead. Or there could be some groomsmen emergency going down.

  “Ruby!” Brooke interrupts me. “You’re up!”

  I take a seat for the makeup artist. “Just something natural,” I say, eyeing the massive spread of brushes and bottles.

  Maggie snorts on my other side. “You’ll get what the rest of us got, and you’ll like it.”

  I’ve watched clients get their faces painted plenty of times, but the swipes and dabs of the brushes make my skin twitch. It’s like I’m getting a whole new layer of skin over top of my real one. But this is what it takes to make perfect pictures. I’ll grin and bear it.

  By the time the wedding photographer finishes with our not-so-candid snaps and all the bridal party pics down by the beach, I’m impatient. Everywhere I glance, I keep expecting to see Will. There’s no sign of him, though. I spot Helene behind the front desk and make a beeline over.

  “Hi!” I say. “I, ah, just wanted to make sure everything’s going as planned for the ceremony.”

  “All the expected deliveries have arrived,” Helene says, as composed as always. “The officiant as well. I believe the ceremony furnishings have been assembled. You can be assured everything has been handled.”

  Except for your boss, by me, I can’t help thinking. “Good,” I say. “Thank you.”

  Helene offers a tip of her head and a soft smile as I turn to go. “My best wishes to your friend.” She sounds like she means it.

  There. If even Helene is rooting for Brooke, this day has to go off without a hitch.

  I return to find Brooke pacing. At least her jitters seem to be more eager anticipation than anxious nerves now. “Chocolate or almonds?” I hold up the snacks I stashed. “Or, best of all, chocolate almonds? Super emotional moments plus an empty stomach is a bad combo.”

  “Okay, okay.” She points at the bag of almonds. “I feel like I’m already stuffed full.”

  “As long as it’s with happiness, we’re good,” I say. She gives my hand a brief squeeze.

  While she snacks, I consult my phone once more. I’ve had it on silent, but no new messages have come in anyway. I suppress a frown. I’d better be seeing you soon, I tap in. Groomsmen aren’t allowed to get cold feet. Wink.

  Still, I can’t help feeling a tremor of nerves. What is Will doing right now? Hopefully Trevor didn’t pull a Brooke, and have any second thoughts about this.

  “Is it time yet?” Lulu bobs on her feet. Her glued-on heel has been holding up so far, I note with some satisfaction.

  “Five more minutes,” I report.

  The ceremony is being held on one of the property
’s few stretches of manicured grounds: a trimmed lawn toward the north end of the beach. Ribbons festoon the trees along the path that leads us there. We huddle up by the side of the archway where the procession will start. Brooke’s dad is already waiting there. His eyes light up when he sees her, and her cheeks turn pink. He kisses one of them and hugs her close.

  “My little girl.”

  “Oh, Dad,” Brooke says. “Don’t start. I can’t be crying before I even get to the altar.”

  He chuckles and hugs her again before letting go.

  Will ambles up to the other side of the archway. My heart leaps at the sight of him. He’s here, everything is fine. He is fine, in more ways than one. I like him best rumpled and coming undone, but he still cuts an awfully striking figure with his dark hair slicked back and that gorgeous body decked out in a formal suit. Excuse me while I fan myself.

  Brad is up front waiting with Trevor, but Will and Colin, who’s just behind him, will be walking up paired with Maggie and Lulu. Will heads straight to Maggie with a smile and a word of greeting … and without so much as a glance at me.

  The flutter in my chest dulls. I angle my head to try to catch his eye, but it’s as if I’m invisible to him.

  Something’s wrong.

  My stomach clenches, but I don’t have time to push the issue. The music that’s our cue is lilting through the air. Brooke sucks in a sharp breath.

  I focus all my attention back on her. “You’re good. You’re beautiful. You’re going to rock this.” I give her full skirt one last smoothing and tuck an errant strand of her hair back into its pin.

  “Thank you,” she says, her eyes glittering despite what she said to her dad. I know she means not just for right now, but for last night too.

  “Any time,” I say. Colin and Lulu pass under the archway. I glance at Will again as he and Maggie follow, but his gaze is fixed straight ahead. Maybe he doesn’t want to distract from the ceremony with any overt flirting?

  But he didn’t even say hello.

  I ignore the dull panic inside and fix a bright smile on my face as I head down the aisle next. The decor the resort arranged makes it easy to smile. Chains of flowers line the aisle and bloom across the larger arch behind the altar. The sun is still beaming down, its warmth offset by a light ocean breeze. It’s the perfect day for a wedding—and Brooke is the perfect bride. The sunlight sparks off the tiny crystals woven into her gown. She glows as she walks down the aisle arm in arm with her dad. My breath catches. She looks spectacular.

  She takes her place in front of Trevor. A brilliant grin stretches across her face as she looks into his face. He grins back, and I know with total certainty that I did the right thing last night.

  These two belong together.

  “We are here today to honor the devotion these two people offer to each other,” the officiant begins. He keeps his talk short and sweet. Then Brooke and Trevor say the vows they prepared.

  “I know that with you by my side, I’ll be the happiest and the best person I could possibly be,” Trevor says at the end of his. Brooke blinks hard, and my eyes start to tear up too. I can’t help it—my gaze slips past them to the line of groomsmen. To Will.

  He makes me the happiest, best person I am.

  The thought slips into my mind, and I have to push it back.

  “You may kiss the bride!” the officiant says. Brooke throws her arm around Trevor’s neck to pull him in. The guests in their rows of seats cheer. Then everyone hustles over to congratulate the newly marrieds. As I step aside after hugs and gushing, I notice Will has drifted off to the side of the crowd.

  My nerves jitter as I walk over. “Hey,” I say brightly. “Wasn’t that a gorgeous ceremony?”

  “Lovely,” Will replies. His tone is as emotionless as his face.

  I swallow hard. What the hell is going on? It’s as if someone stole the hot-blooded man who was groaning my praises less than twenty-four hours ago and replaced him with a cold metal robot.

  “Last night,” I say, “there was just so much going on, I really couldn’t get away—”

  His shrug cuts me off. “It’s not important. What’s one more hook-up, or not?”

  Something about his phrasing sends a prickle down my spine. “I did want to meet up with you. We can still—”

  He shakes his head, already taking a step away. His eyes are blank, like he doesn’t even know me. Or care. “Really, don’t worry about it, Ruby. There’s no future here anyway, right? You had a little fun, and now you can move on. I wish you well.”

  He walks away before I can even say a word, leaving me frozen there in shock.

  No future. Had a little fun.

  His heartless words sink in, and I realize in a terrible flash, that’s exactly what I said to Brooke last night.

  A chill washes over me. Oh my God. I thought I saw Will outside. It must have been him. He must have come by, maybe even looking for me, and heard me saying all those things to her—that he was just a fling. That it wasn’t real. Talking as if what we’d been doing together hasn’t meant anything to me at all.

  I watch Will mingle. He’s got a wide smile, but I know him better than that. He’s tense: his shoulders rigid, and his jaw clenched as he talks.

  He thinks I don’t care about him, and it couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Working in PR, you learn to put a good face forward, even when you’re falling apart inside. I have no shortage of practice at maintaining a front of upbeat calm while inside I’m panicking or rolling my eyes or resisting the urge to strangle a client’s parent. So even though I walk into the room for the wedding reception with my stomach churning, I slide into the role of overjoyed best friend without a hitch. Smile, laugh, a hug here and there—no problem.

  But I’m still in agony underneath. Every time I spot Will amid the milling guests, from the back or in profile—he’s never even facing me—a fresh jab of pain shoots through me.

  What does he think of me? What am I supposed to do?

  I can tell myself we never made any promises—that he’s the one who hasn’t talked about what we are, or ever even seeing me again—but it still feels wrong that he heard me say those things.

  “Wasn’t the ceremony lovely?” Trevor’s aunt the photographer gushes to me. I nod enthusiastically. One of Brooke’s work friends spends ten minutes dissecting how the vows were so much more meaningful than the ones at some other wedding she attended last year. Then Brooke’s mom grabs my elbow.

  “Oh, Ruby,” she says. She’s still a bit choked up from the ceremony. “They’re going to be very happy, don’t you think?”

  “I do,” I say honestly. “I’ve never met a better couple.”

  She beams and gives me a little nudge. “I wonder if this afternoon makes you reconsider your dating plans. The sooner you’re open to something serious, the sooner you could have a happy ending like this.”

  I suppress a wince and also the urge to point out that Brooke’s story has hardly ended, because thankfully life is not a Shakespearean comedy. Although maybe if it was, I could count on this mess of misunderstandings coming untangled in a way that leaves everyone unscathed.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell Mrs. Tanner, and flee to the wine bar.

  Gripping my glass of white, I survey the room again. If I could just talk to Will for more than a second, explain why I said everything I did … But I can’t do that in the middle of the crowd.

  As I watch, he strolls from one group to another, never leaving much of an opening in between. But when I’m halfway through my glass, he steps aside to speak to the maître d’. I dash over there and manage to catch him just as he’s turning back.

  “Will.” His face shutters the second he sets eyes on me, but I barrel ahead anyway. “It wasn’t—Can we just talk?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about,” he says, cool and even. Before I can get another word in, he’s sidestepped me to launch into
a conversation with Brooke’s grandfather.

  Maggie comes up beside me. “What’s going on?”

  Shit. I didn’t want anyone to notice. The last thing I need is Brooke realizing something is up and worrying about me instead of celebrating.

  “It’s okay,” I lie. “Nothing that can’t be worked out later.”

  I redouble the effort I’m putting into my fake smile. I am not broken-hearted. I am sparkles and light to everyone I speak to. But after a half hour of that, I am exhausted. I duck out into the lobby to use the restroom. In the stall, I take a few deep breaths and tip my head back against the door.

  It shouldn’t be that big a deal. I didn’t think I was going to see Will again after tomorrow anyway. So we’ve cut the fling one day short. Does it make that much of a difference?

  It does. It does because I can’t stand him spending every day after this thinking I’m an unfeeling bitch who used him to get my rocks off without caring how he felt about it. And even more so because it looks he was feeling more about it than I’d let myself hope.

  What if he did want more than just a fling?

  I collect myself and head back out. My feet start to drag in the lobby. If this were a client’s case, I’d be looking for a way to spin it in my favor. But maybe I’m too close to the situation. I’ve got nothing, not when he won’t listen to a thing I say.

  “Is everything all right?”

  I look up at the smooth voice. Helene has come around the desk. Her gaze slides over me briskly but not without sympathy. Something inside me wobbles.

  “Not really,” I admit sadly, “but I have to make it be anyway, at least for today. In your line of work, I bet you know what that’s like, right?”

  She raises her shoulders slightly, elegant even when she’s shrugging. I’ll take that as a French yes.

  “You know,” she says, “I have found that while this approach may be useful in work, it’s far from ideal for matters of a more personal nature.”

  My cheeks warm. Does she know? I can’t imagine Will telling her, but Lord knows how much she’s seen in the last few days to be able to draw conclusions.