He chewed the inside of his lip. “I do. I trust you. I’m sorry.”
He stood, opening his arms for a hug. Stiffly, I went into it. He didn’t say what he was sorry for. He did this sometimes, acting like he was sorry for something but not naming it, so it was a blanket apology for whatever the fuck he did.
“I love you, Caterpillar.” He used his nickname for me from when we met, which he only pulled out when he was desperate. He called me that because of how I used to crawl up on him.
“Love you, too.” I said it, but for the first time, the words felt like ash in my mouth. “I’d better get going. Glendale’s a long drive.”
I turned to walk, but he pulled me back into a kiss. He tried to deepen it, but I cut it off. “See you later.”
* * *
I stood against the wall of Kitty’s patio. Guests mingled all around the pool, and a tent was set up over the small yard. There were a lot of exceptionally tall men, some flanked by petite blonde women and some solo. I figured that had to be Kitty’s fiancé’s teammates. Some faces looked familiar from Mikey’s rager that I broke up.
I spotted one of the writers from work and decided to go rub elbows. Brent was a quirky guy, what you’d expect from a comedy writer.
“Jessie! Great to see you here! I didn’t know you and Kitty were close.”
I wasn’t even sure he knew my name until that moment. “Oh, she was kind enough to invite me.”
“That Kitty’s a good egg,” he said. A presence loomed over my shoulder. “Is this your boyfriend?”
I turned to find Mikey looking very put together in a suit. He touched a hand to my lower back. I forced out a “hey.”
“Hi,” he grunted, shifting his gaze to Brent.
“Oh, this is, uh, Mikey.”
“This guy bothering you, Jessie?” Mikey growled, giving Brent a firm stink eye.
I drew back, affronted by Mikey’s rude behavior. “What? No. Not at all. Brent Mercer, this is Mikey. Mikey, this is Brent. He’s a writer from work. One of Kitty’s colleagues. You know, on the show you like?”
“One of Jessie’s colleagues, too,” Brent added with a wide smile, trying to cut the tension.
Mikey extended his hand, gripping Brent’s fingers maybe a hair too hard. “Ben Miknevicius. Mikey.”
“Great to meet you. Are you one of Guy’s... ?” Brent asked.
“Best friends? Teammates? Yeah. Both.” Mikey softened, seemingly pleased by having some sort of dominant edge over silly old Brent. “I’m a groomsman in the wedding.”
“Oh, how fun! Kitty asked me to officiate, so I guess we’ll all have a role,” Brent said, continuing to be warm when Mikey was being a real dick.
Mikey took a sip from his beer, not taking his eyes off Brent until he cut them to me. “Doesn’t Jessie look pretty tonight?”
Brent’s face flushed pink. “Uh, yeah, Jess. Really nice dress.” He scrambled for something to say. “Did you make that dress?”
“No, no,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I altered it, but I alter most everything I buy a little.”
“We could have ridden together, Jess. Saved on gas,” Mikey said, cocking his head to the side.
“Mikey and I are neighbors,” I said to Brent.
Luckily, a knife clinked on a glass at that moment, and a very pretty woman with luscious long blonde hair stepped onto the small platform in the tent. She talked a little about Guy and Kitty as a couple while they stood beside her. They really were a beautiful couple. Mikey’s hand touched my lower back again, steering me toward the tent.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“That guy likes you, Jessalyn. Be careful,” he warned. I rolled my eyes.
“You’re not my keeper, Benjamin.”
