Sweet Cheeks(22)

But she doesn’t say anything for a while. Just stares quietly at the stars while I try and figure out what to do next. In reality, I’m perfectly comfortable on this hard wooden floor with my legs folded like a pretzel so I can fit in this small space beside her.

“Mitch’s last name is Layton.” Saylor’s sudden comment surprises me.

“I think I remember him.” How could I not? The popped collar, egotistical, trust fund baby. Even in high school he thought he was better than everyone else. I can’t imagine how he is now. I tread carefully. “How’s he doing?” Feign interest. Pretend I care.

She laughs but the sound isn’t lighthearted. “He’s getting married.” I hesitate in response because I haven’t thought this through far enough ahead, and I’m not sure if I should play that I know this yet or act like I don’t. “And not to me.”

“Oh.” My response is as much shock that she’s just confessed, as it is an act. And I decide to keep quiet. To let her take this conversation where she wants to ease my guilt over lying to her once again.

“Yep.” Her laugh holds no humor at all. “I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t marry him. Over six years, Hayes. Six years down the fricking drain and all because I looked at him and . . . I don’t know.”

“You looked at him and what?” I can’t help it. I have to ask. Have to pry. Have to find out why it sounds like she still loves the prick when she’s the one who broke things off.

That much I do know from Ryder. He had sounded proud as hell of Say when he told me she dumped the sorry ass.

She turns her head to face me, the heat of her breath hitting the side of my cheek as I keep my eyes trained on the sky, because f*ck if I trust myself right now to not take advantage of a situation I shouldn’t even be in.

“I looked at him and realized he didn’t make me feel how yo . . . Nothing. Never mind. It just wasn’t right.” She laughs again. Nerves tinge the edges. “Can you believe he had the audacity to invite me to the wedding? To my wedding?”

“Your wedding?” She can’t be that drunk she’s mixing things up, can she?

“Yep. My wedding. All my planning. All the stupid hours I spent perfecting every detail. All he did was change the date and the bride. Who does that?”

“Wait a minute. They’re copying your plans?”

“Yep. From what I can tell it seems so. Same paradise location. Same ceremony time. Even the damn invitations. What kind of woman gets married to a man and keeps all of the ex’s wedding plans? Well, good thing she has the same initial in her first name so they could save all the monogrammed crap his mom bought.”

I laugh. Can’t help it. Ryder never told me this part of the story. “Maybe his mother talked her into it.”

She snorts again. “Uptight Ursula.”

I laugh. She sounds like the freckled face girl from before. “That’s her name?”

“No. But that’s what I call her. And you’re probably right about her talking the new girlfriend into it. She was such a controlling bitch. And to think she was going to be my mother-in-law.”

I feel her shiver beside me in mock disgust. Maybe she doesn’t still love him.

“Do they actually think you’re going to hop on a plane and show up?” Shit. Let’s hope she’s had enough to drink that she doesn’t realize I knew she’d have to fly to get there.

“That’s the thing—Whoa!” she says as she sits up quickly and then puts her hand down on my upper thigh to steady herself.

“You okay?” I ask as she giggles.

“I haven’t gone out drinking like this in quite a while, wow . . . this feels funny.” She sounds embarrassed.

I clear my throat. Try to concentrate on the conversation instead of her hand on my thigh where her fingers are dangerously close to my dick. Focus on anything but that.

“You okay?”

She looks down at me: lips parted, eyes wide, and f*ck if the look on her face—innocent, complicated, pure Saylor—doesn’t make me think of the pressure of her fingers again. “Yeah.” She swallows and nods. “I’m fine. Just caught me off guard.”

“Okay.” I shift up. Figure that’s the best way to get her hand off my thigh. Try to be the good guy here. And the minute I move, she immediately jerks her hand back as if she didn’t realize it was there. Good thing her hand’s not on my thigh now. Bad thing? Bad thing is her lips are inches from mine.

I smell her perfume. See the moonlight in her hair. Hear her draw in a breath. And hell if I don’t need a distraction from stepping over a line I can’t cross.

The sway of her ass tonight at the club.

The sound of her laugh as she climbed the steps up here.

The way she went from fiery to cute in a goddamn second.

Step back, Whitley. Way the f*ck back.

“You were saying something about being invited, Saylor?” Distraction. Get the conversation back on track. And my thoughts off of her lips.

“Uh. Yeah.” She shakes her head as if to clear the moment we just had and reaches forward to pick up nothing in particular to have a reason to shift away from me. “Ryder’s lost his mind.”

“And that’s something new?”

I get the smile I was working for but this time it’s more shy than confident. She plucks at the legs of her pants with her fingers. I wait.