Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)(42)
He flinched like she’d reached across the space between them and slapped him. “Compromise. I’m a f*cking compromise to you.”
“That’s not—”
“Enough, Regan. I don’t want to hear it. I’m done.”
Hurt spiked through her, its poisoned barbs sinking deep. She wrapped her arms around herself as he stalked away. “So that’s it, then? You’re going to drop me like yesterday’s trash over some imagined slight? It’s not my goddamn fault that you have inadequacy issues from your dad being an *. How about trying to actually fight for something you care about instead of throwing up your hands and pretending you don’t give a f*ck about anything?”
He stopped at the corner and gave her a glare so scathing, she actually shrank in on herself. “I give plenty of f*cks, Regan. Just not about you.” Then he was gone, walking around the corner and out of her life.
Her throat closed and she pressed a hand to her mouth as she searched for an empty closet, bathroom, somewhere to hide so she didn’t break down in the middle of the hallway. The ladies’ restroom was the closest door and she practically sprinted in there, nearly taking Sophie out in the process.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Regan’s breath shuddered out, but she fought down the burning in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not now. Not over a man who wouldn’t even sit down and talk to her about whatever the hell his problem was.
“That’s okay. I really didn’t want to leave the restroom anyway.”
She looked around. For a bathroom, it was pretty nice—but she doubted Sophie was hiding in here because of the decor. Pathetically grateful for the distraction, she focused on the other woman. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you out there with your guy?”
“Logan’s hardly mine.” Sophie wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “He was only spending time with me as a favor to Colton. The good news, for you, is he’s no longer stuck entertaining the groom’s shy little sister. He’s all yours. Go for it.”
She didn’t want him—she probably never had. Beyond that… “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but a man doesn’t ask his best friend to sleep with his baby sister.”
“But—”
“And, seriously, that scorching kiss I got an eyeful of this morning when I walked by your room was nobody’s version of a favor. No one can fake chemistry like that.”
A line appeared between Sophie’s brows. “I don’t know…”
“Yeah, you do. Deep down, a girl always knows.” She’d kissed plenty of guys, and not a single damn one had made her feel a portion of what Brock did. Of course, look where she ended up—hiding in the bathroom, doling out relationship advice like she was Dear Abby. The truth was, she had no right to tell Sophie to go get her man. Regan couldn’t even stick with the plan she’d relied so heavily on. She’d known going off the deep end with Brock would bite her in the ass, but she never would have guessed that he’d sucker punch her like this.
God, it hurt.
Realizing Sophie was still waiting for her to explain, she dredged up the last strength she had. “Look, sweetie, that man is crazy about you. Take off the underdog cape you wear around like a security blanket, because it doesn’t fit at all. You caught Logan’s eye all on your own, and now you need to decide if you want to keep it. But if you ask me, only an idiot would let him get away just because the idea of being with him is scary. I don’t know you very well, but you don’t strike me as an idiot. Don’t prove me wrong.” She stepped back and held open the door.
Sophie stared up at her, positively shell-shocked, and Regan didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle her, but at least the little brunette was moving toward the door. She almost groaned out loud when Sophie paused at the threshold and looked back at her. “You coming?”
“I’ll be along.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Regan raised her chin and forced a smile. “Always.” Now leave so I can have my breakdown in solitude.
It was only when she had sole ownership of the bathroom that Regan let herself slump down onto one of the chairs situated in the corner.
As she thought back, replaying the conversation with Brock, word for word, the pain inside her only got worse. He hadn’t been willing to talk, hadn’t stopped to wonder if maybe he was overreacting, hadn’t even paused when he accused her of using him to get with Logan. Maybe she had been to begin with—and she’d been pretty honest about it—but her plan went up in flames the second they had sex.
It just took her a few days longer to realize it.
But Brock didn’t care. He looked at her and saw every single person who’d ever accused him of being lazy, stupid, and less than his brother. So he’d thrown the baby out with the bathwater, because he was more willing to walk away than realize maybe there were people in the world who actually found him amazing in his own right.
There wasn’t a damn thing she could do to convince him of that, though. He’d played judge, jury, and executioner on their fledgling relationship, and she hadn’t even been given a vote. She’d begged him not to do this, and it hadn’t make a bit of difference.
This never would have happened if she’d just stuck with her damn plan.