Sweet Cheeks(68)

There’s hurt in his eyes. Wounded pride. And despite lying to him about the time frame, I realize everything else I’ve said is true.

“So it’s all true then.” He says the question as a statement, as if he doesn’t want me to respond. His voice is resigned. Disbelieving.

“What’s true?”

He shakes his head and chuckles beneath his breath like I should know what he’s referring to.

“Let me ask you something.” His voice lowers and eyes narrow. “What happens when you wake up one morning and Hayes is gone? Because he will leave, Saylor. He’s left you once before. It’s not like you don’t know about him and his girlfriend, right? How he cheated and walked away. So what makes you think you’re so special that he’s going to stick around this time? Because sorry to break it to you, but you’re not. You’re nothing in comparison to that spotlight he lives his life in. The one he obviously needs because he picked it over you before and as sure as hell, he’ll do it again. He’s Hollywood and you’re just . . . you. If you were devastated before, how do you think you’re going to feel when he does it now, knowing everything you gave up for him?”

My throat burns from the emotion his words are conjuring up. They dig deep down into the recesses of my mind where I’ve been trying to play dumb and ignore the what happens next aspect of this weekend. But with Mitch in front of me and his words ringing in my ears, I can’t avoid the fear they bring to me since the ghost of the previous devastation is still a shadow in my heart.

While I may feel unsettled, I know I sure as hell don’t want him to see the emotions I’m most likely wearing on my sleeve either.

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” I say as I stand and clear my throat. “Best of luck to you and Sarah.”

I stride confidently from the room.

And I was wrong before. This—this walk—is my best acting job.





Because it’s Saylor Rodgers.

I remind myself again because I’m done playing the nice guy. Done standing here with a cheesy smile plastered to my face, taking picture after picture for the same people who’ve had no problem muttering shitty things under their breath all night long about the woman I love.

Another picture.

Love?

Flash burning my eyes. Smile a bit wider.

Seriously, Whitley? Love?

A shake of a hand.

Love.

A thank you for a compliment. Another autograph.

It’s always been her in some way. Hasn’t it?

Another photograph. Another hug I don’t want to give.

Yes. Love.

Smile for Saylor’s sake. To make them leave her the f*ck alone.

Love. Hmpf. Who would have thought?

A forced smile. An apologetic excuse that I need to get back to my date.

Now what are you going to do about it?

A narrow escape from another hug by a woman smothered in strong perfume and a dodge of a lipstick smudge on my cheek.

Of course when I get into the main hall of the reception, Saylor’s nowhere to be found. My mind’s reeling from my realization and yet it shouldn’t be. How did I not realize I still loved her the moment I saw her in her cupcake shop with blue flecks of frosting in her hair and that feistiness front and center?

She’s not at the bar. Not at the table. Shit. I shouldn’t have left her alone. Shouldn’t have assumed she’d be fine despite her reassurances.

I see one of the others from our table. “Hey, do you know where Saylor went?”

“I saw her head outside a few minutes ago. Right before it started thundering.”

“Thank you,” I murmur and head that direction. The thunder rumbles the minute I head out onto the patio to look for her. It’s dark now and the air smells like rain.

“She still loves me, you know.” Mitch’s voice comes out of the shadows behind me.

I pause. I truly hate the f*cking clinch of my gut at his words but reject the idea immediately. There’s no way she loves him. And yet didn’t I ask myself if she still did before coming here? My mind flashes back to earlier. To his name she mumbled in her sleep the other night and to the look on her face when she saw him across the reception room earlier. Did I read her expression wrong? Was the disgust I thought I saw in it really something else?

Fuck him and his lies that are trying to make me doubt her.

“You always were a bullshitter, Layton.” I turn around, take in the cigarette in one hand and the glass of brandy in the other.

And this is what a happily married man does at his own wedding? Drinks and smokes . . . alone?

I take a step toward him as I concentrate on how to play him and not let him know he’s got to me with his statement.

“She left. Couldn’t handle everything.”

He takes a drag on his cigarette and I immediately know he said or did something to upset her. Every part of me wants to go find her, make sure she’s okay, but I know she’s tough. Besides, there’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since Ryder told me over six years ago that Saylor was dating him. Let him know just what I think of him.

“Is it stressful being in the same room with the one woman you’re supposed to love but don’t wholeheartedly, and the one you still love who doesn’t love you back? Is that why you’ve resorted to a smoke? A little nervous, are you, Mitchy-boy?”