“I’m happy for you. Cheers to making a man out of yourself.” I hold my drink up.
He meets it. “Thanks. When will you do the same? You seem pretty interested in that Poppy chick.”
“In one thing and one thing only. The word relationship isn’t in my vocabulary. You know that.”
“You need to let the past go. It’s been years, and not all women are cheaters.”
“Try telling that to my new client. They are if given the opportunity.” I realized what I said a second too late. “Shit, I’m sorry. That’s not true. You’re right, not all women are. It’s just hard to believe when not only did it happen to me, but it’s the main reason I’m employed.”
“Fair, but don’t you want a family at some point?”
“Fuck no. I have no desire to screw up any more children—I wasn’t meant to be a father.” It’s the most accurate statement I’ve made the whole conversation.
“Dude. Your upbringing has no bearing on your future children. If anything, it’ll make you a better parent. Stop holding back just because you’re afraid.”
“What are you—my fucking therapist?”
He chuckles. “No, but maybe you need one. There’s more to life than one-night stands.”
“Says the guy who’s been married for a few hours to the girl who broke him of the habit. Don’t preach to the choir unless you have something worthwhile. And if it’ll put your mind at ease, I’m happywith one-night stands. They leave time for my career, which is more important than any woman.”
“You’ve already made partner, so that’s a piss-poor excuse. And if work’s your only focus, doesn’t it look better to some of these clients to be in a solid relationship?”
I shake my head, exasperated and ready to be done with the conversation. “Man, you’re relentless. Go take your wife to bed and consummate your marriage. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jackson gets to his feet and grips my shoulder. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone. But at least be open to the possibility.”
“Doubtful—unless you come to me in the morning and tell me that married sex is like nothing you’ve had before… then I’ll consider it.”
“I’m about to find out,” he says, eyeing his woman with longing. “Night, man.”
“Enjoy.”
Damn. Your friends start settling down, and suddenly, they think everyone needs to. Fuck that shit. And on that note, rather than torture myself anymore by watching Poppy slip through my fingers, I decide it’s time to leave, resigned to spend the night alone. The last thing I want is to witness her and herfriendMatt go inside the room together. Motherfucker. I shouldn’t give a shit, so why do I?
The following morning, I’m anxious to join the wedding party for breakfast after tossing and turning all night while my imagination ran wild about what could be happening next door. To my dismay, I miss saying goodbye to Poppy, along with the chance to rile her up some more, since she’s already gone by the time I arrive. This is discovered by inquiring where she is, only to hear about their early flight back. Mistake number one: asking about her.
“Why? Did you do something? I swear I’ll hurt you if you fucked with her.” Cici scowls at me without waiting for an answer. At the same time, Jackson’s subtle glance and muffled chuckle add to my pissy mood.
“I didn’t do shit. She’s in the room next to me, so I just wonderedwhy she wasn’t here. I figured her and that guy were still getting it on.” I shrug as if it doesn’t matter, when the thought alone has me seeing red.
“Matt? Seriously? Did you hear them doing it?” She seems genuinely shocked, and my blood boils that she even thinks it’s possible.
“No. But two single people sharing a room and not fucking? Highly unlikely.” I’m losing my mind, and it’s my own damn fault. Why am I having this conversation again? Oh right, because I asked where Poppy was.
She rolls her eyes. “Says the manwhore of the century. Contrary to your beliefs, not every man has a one-track mind. Matt and Poppy are just friends. Besides, she was all about Jordan last night. That was more likely.”
“So she did get with someone?” I can’t help but ask the question—mistake number two.
Cici eyes me suspiciously. “Why do you care?”
Jackson isn’t hiding the humor rolling off him at this point, and Eli is beside Cici, shaking his head, waiting for the bomb to drop, I’m sure. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I don’t. I’m only interested in finding out who got laid by whom. You’re familiar with the term gossip. Isn’t that what people do the day after a wedding?” I completely sold that.
“Well, I’m not gossiping about one of my best friends. And if any of you do, you’re in trouble.” She addresses the others around the table, then smirks at me. “So good luck with yourgossip sesh.”
“Testy, testy. What does it matter? She doesn’t even live here, she won’t see us again.”
