Compromising Kessen (Vandenbrook #1)(88)

“But,” I say unsure, “I already promised I’d go with my cousin. Maybe if you had asked sooner…” This is my peace offering, a pathetic one.

“Prom’s in two months,” Preston replies, defeated.

“I know,” I say quickly. “But I wanted to get an early start. So sorry, Preston.”

He grabs the microphone and tries to smile. “It’s okay. You’re right. I should have asked sooner. Hey, let’s give another round of applause to the soloist of the night!” He backs up and claps for me, but I can see tears in his eyes. Humiliation, and it’s all my fault.

All I want right now is for the floor to swallow me alive. That isn’t an option, however, so I wave with little enthusiasm and find my seat.

A girl next to me nudges my knee. “That was close, huh?” Her eyes are laughing, like she’s making a joke, but I just want to cry. How cruel can a person be? People around me are muttering words like, ouch, harsh, bummer, and I fight the tears threatening to stream down my face. My throat constricts with a sudden onslaught of emotion as I watch Preston slowly move back to his seat and hang his head in his hands. I silently pray for him to lift his head and look in my direction. Instead all I see a single tear slide down his cheek then nausea overwhelms me. I just shot Bambi, and the worst part is, I can’t seem to find the strength to get up, walk over to his seat, and apologize.





Chapter One


Nine Years Later…

How I ended up here, I have no idea. Well actually, I take that back. I do. The whole thing started when my boyfriend of two weeks asked me to be his date to his best friend’s wedding. Being the na?ve idiot that I am, I said, “Well, of course,” because naturally I’m in love with him after fourteen days and will do anything he asks (cue large sigh here).

So, you can imagine my surprise at the predicament I’m in – not that I shouldn’t have seen it coming. A girl should have a sixth sense about some situations. He never let me see his place, nor did he take me out in public, nor did I ever actually meet any of his friends. It was a series of coffee dates and quick yet passionate kisses on the cheek, which led me to this church on this particular day. Desperate? No, I’m not, but perhaps I’m a little too hopeful.

Dear friends, who also happen to be happily married, are always reminding me I’m young enough to be independent, free, and I should enjoy this time in my life. Please. I’d roll my eyes and say choice words to them, if they could take their eyes off each other long enough to notice. Which brings me to why I’m too hopeful. I want what they have. However, that is no excuse for the sorry situation I find myself in today.

Oh, to leave this place! But I can’t. My only ride is with my stupid (you guessed it) ex-boyfriend who is still in the corner sobbing his eyes out. And you may ask, “Amanda, that’s odd. Why is your now ex-boyfriend sobbing his eyes out?” To which I will answer, “Because he’s lost his mind.” Literally tossed every brain cell in his possession into a trash can and set it on fire, no joke. Looking at him just makes me all the more sick to my stomach. As I said before, I should have known. Used, like some worthless replacement for what he really wanted all along, that’s what I feel right now, and it’s the simple truth.

With all the snot running down his face and the tears, I find myself wondering what I ever saw in him. What’s wrong with me? Normally I’m not this stupid. I go for the jocks, but because of bad experiences that we don’t need to review, I decided to go for the nerdy guy. Sensitivity might be a nice change. Well, I got the sensitive part, not what I had in mind.

It would have been nice to know an important little detail. The best friend, whose wedding I just inadvertently destroyed, is a girl.

Furthermore, there was no way for me to know this girl was the love of his life, and I was actually going to a wedding to witness my date stand up in the middle of the ceremony – God, mayor, and everyone else I have known since high school—and say, “I object!”

I can’t make this stuff up, not even if I tried. Naturally, the groom was a little ticked off. You could tell by the fact that his face and neck got so red his head looked like it was going to pop right off his body. Next thing I know, my ex-boyfriend was grabbing me, yes grabbing me, by my dress strap, I might add, and tugging me to stand up with him. Sorry, but my loyalty doesn’t run that deep. I briefly contemplated slamming my head against a wall.

You can imagine the ruckus he caused, since the bride not only fainted but took all six of her bridesmaids down with her, simultaneously knocking over the giant candelabrum that set part of the church on fire. The highlight of my day was watching the incredibly muscular fireman put the small blaze out. Sometimes my life is pathetic, I admit.

But back to my snotty-nosed ex-boyfriend, maybe if I sneak away quietly he won’t notice I’m gone. Gathering my purse and coat, I walk toward the door. Sweet freedom. I can see it. I can smell it. And I can feel it.

“Amanda?”

Ugh, I knew I was lying to myself. I never made it out of my house in high school. Why would I be able to sneak out now?

Defeated, I turn around to see who had said my name and noticed an attractive firemen walking my way. Now I’m curious, but I see the ex-boyfriend slowly look my way as well. Oh no. This is not good. Doing what I do best, I smile at Mr. Hot-Fireman, and say, “Hi.”