Sweet Cheeks(4)

Luckily Ryder can’t see me from where he stands because I’m certain my scrunched up nose and the falter in my icing would give away what I did.

“Saylor?”

“Hmm?” Indifference.

And there must be something in how I respond that catches the tiny inflection in my tone.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering going.”

“No. Of course not.” Eyes on the next cupcake. My fingers squeezing another row of pearls around the edge. My feet shifting to abate the weight of his scrutinizing stare.

“Where’s the card then?”

“I must have lost it. Or thrown it out.” Dodge. Avoid. Ignore. “Oh. Maybe it fell on the floor and is under the desk—”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar.” I can hear the confused disbelief in his tone as he takes a few steps toward me. I immediately let go of my hair wound around my finger. My tell. “The question is, what exactly are you lying about?”

“Nothing. Drop it.”

“Did you return the RSVP, Saylor?”

“Yes. No. It’s not what you think . . .” I blow out an exasperated sigh while he stares, waiting for me to continue. I hate that I feel like a child about to get scolded for doing something stupid. “I marked the card out of spite. I had no intention of going at all . . . but then DeeDee picked it up and mailed it in by accident and . . . well, now they think I’m coming. With a date no less.”

“That’s classic.” He laughs but the sound fades as he narrows his eyes and his thoughts connect. “Hold up. So you marked the card out of spite. I can buy that. But if you had no intention of ever going, then why did you put it in the envelope? That kind of tells me the thought somewhat crossed your mind.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug, trying to figure out where he’s going with this. “I just did. There was no hidden meaning behind it, Ryder.” He’s starting to piss me off. I know he’s reading into this, thinking more of it than he should, and I just want him to go away so I can decorate in peace.

But he doesn’t. He just stands there and continues to stare like I’ve done something wrong.

“You do realize Mitch sent you the invitation as a joke, right? That neither of them actually want you at their wedding.”

I roll my eyes and huff. “I’m not a child. Or an idiot. I know they don’t want me there and I assure you, I don’t want to be there.”

“You sure about that?”

My head snaps up to meet the questioning in his eyes. “Am I sure about what?” There’s a bite of anger in my voice. A tinge of why are you questioning me?

“I’m just trying to figure out if you’re having second thoughts.”

I snort. “If I did it’s a bit late since it seems he’s getting married.”

“Mm-hmm.” There’s something condescending in the way he says it, and it makes me grit my teeth.

“And mm-hmm means what?” My hands are on my hips now, my temper starting to flare.

“I find it interesting that you haven’t said shit to me about getting the invitation. So that tells me it has gotten to you more than you’re letting on. If it didn’t bug you or if you weren’t having second thoughts, then you would have said something.”

“I didn’t tell you because it isn’t a big deal.”

“Mm-hmm.”

There’s that response again.

“Just say whatever it is you’re not saying, Ryd. I’m not in the mood for whatever reverse psychology game you’re playing here.”

“It would be totally normal for you to have doubts you know.”

“Agreed, but what do doubts have to do with this?” I point to the invitation on the table between us.

“I’m just making sure you’re not planning on doing anything stupid you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like you showing up to the wedding type of stupid.” He lifts his eyebrows as he says the words and snaps the last thread holding my temper at bay.

“Why do you keep harping on about this? Get off my back, will you? Do you think I have a secret plan to sneak off to the wedding? Cash in the travel voucher the resort gave me as a credit for my own cancelled wedding and just show up because all of a sudden I’m worried that I’ve made a huge mistake? What do you think I’m going to do, spy through the hedges during the ceremony so I can satisfy my morbid curiosity over what the future Mrs. Layton looks like all the while silently thanking God that it isn’t me walking down the aisle to him?”

“Say, that’s not what I meant by—”

“Better yet. I think I should go.” My temper is lit and I couldn’t stop the words from rushing out if I tried. “In fact, I’ll hire some totally hot stud from an escort service to take me. I mean, I put plus-one, after all. So when we walk into the reception, it’ll be obvious he’s so madly in love with me that those *s—the people I thought were my friends, yet were nowhere to be found when I needed them the most—can see us. Why not, right? If I showed up head over heels in love with some hot guy, then God willing, they’d all see that I’m not at home in the corner licking my wounds because I realized I made a mistake like they all think I am.” I finally stop, chest heaving, hands fisted, and anger over being questioned weighing heavy in the space between us. Ryder’s eyes remain locked on mine yet he doesn’t say a word. “So if that’s what you mean by doing something stupid, then no worries Ryder, I’ve got stupid covered. Thanks for the vote of confidence, though.”