“Something like that.” I sighed again.
“And you’re not over him.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
“I’m over him,” I argued, a stubborn set to my jaw. “I just don’t want to deal with his bullshit again.”
“So don’t.” My partner shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “His bullshit isn’t your problem anymore, just bring a date to the wedding and have fun.”
My eyebrows shot up at Alex’s suggestion, it actually made a lot of sense. I could focus all of my attention on my date and not have to worry about looking like the pathetic spinster that never moved on in front of Braden and everyone else. Braden didn’t need to know that I spent more time than I cared to admit thinking about what we’d once had and missing it.
Missing him.
“Problem is finding a date,” I remarked. “Barrie isn’t exactly full of potential suitors.”
“Ouch, that stung,” Alex exclaimed, clenching a hand over his heart, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Despite his humorous front, I could tell he was a little offended.
I smiled softly at him, trying to retract the harshness of my words. “Obviously, you’re the exception. Well, maybe,” I added, eyeing him warily. “You may be hot, but you could have some freaky rituals that keep the girls away. Maybe you still let your mom clip your toenails or something.”
“I assure you—there are no freaky rituals here, and my mom hasn’t clipped my toenails since I was at least sixteen,” Alex chuckled. He sent me a brief, converted look, laced with meaning. As if he realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled his eyes away from my face and looked back out the window. “I just work too much to really meet anybody.”
“Same here,” I said, worrying my lip.
Alex cleared his throat, his gaze flitting back to my face. “Well, I’d love to be your stand-in date for your friend’s wedding, if you’d like.”
I massaged my aching temple “Alex, I’m really not—“
“I meant as friends,” he interjected quickly. “I understand that you don’t want to…start anything with me. I get it, it wouldn’t be wise at all. We seewaytoo much of each other as it is. As hot as you are, I don’t think I could handle dating someone and having to work with them. I’d never get a break,” he laughed ruefully, running his hand through his short hair. His gentle hazel eyes were fixed on my face. “But I’ll go as a friend, and what your ex doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
I stared at him and blinked. “You’re a sly dog, Alex Hastings,” I said, shaking my head slowly. A small smile spread across his lips. I turned my body towards his, studying him carefully as I mulled over his offer. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I muttered, sighing deeply.
“Just think about it,” he said, a teasing smile lifting the corner of his lips. “I’m an excellent wedding date. I can dance, I look great in a suit, and I impress the parents while making the ex-boyfriends seethe with jealousy.”
I snorted with laughter; it was true, after all. I’d seen him dressed up for our work Christmas party. He did look great in a suit, and he was willing to make my ex jealous.
* * *
Friday came quicker than I anticipated, probably because I was dreading it more than a root canal without freezing.
After I arrived home and showered, Tessa and I packed up my little red Camry and hit the road. For the first half of the trip, she chattered nervously about everything. Twenty minutes outside of Parry Sound though, she fell silent, her eyes focused on the scenery passing by the window. Her fingers twisted around and around in her hair, a habit she had always had when nervous.
“It’s going to be fine, Tess,” I told her, giving her a comforting smile.
“I know,” Tessa looked at me, smiling. “I’m just nervous. I never really thought I’d ever be the type to get married so young.” I bit my lip, the flood of memories washing over me at Tessa’s words.
It was true: she had never been the type to daydream about weddings and babies—at least, not to my knowledge. Growing up, that’d been me. I was the hopeless romantic out of our friendship equation. I picked names out for my future babies and used to spend entirely too much time daydreaming about my wedding. When we were kids, I constantly made her play out my ridiculous ideas up in the attic of my house.
My mom had a trunk of beautiful dress clothes from her beauty pageant days. I’d wear the white sequin gown, while Tessa would choose something else as my maid of honor. The dress swallowed me whole, but I still felt like a princess in it. I couldn’t wait to get married for real.
Then I met Braden, and I fell hard for him. I could easily see my future with him. I could easily picture myself walking down the aisle, all dressed in white and joining him at the altar.
That memory stung now. In fact, I hadn’t thought about weddings or babies since Braden tore my heart clean out of my chest and shredded it into pieces before my very eyes.
“I don’t think he’s going to be there,” Tessa’s voice roused me from my dark thoughts. She was looking at me sympathetically. “Brock spoke to him earlier this week and he’s grad…got something to do on Monday.”
I took a deep, calming breath. I wanted to tell Tessa I didn’t care what Braden was up to—that I didn’t care whether or not he showed up for this dinner, but it would be a blatant lie and I knew she’d see through it. Instead, I bit back my curiousness and nodded, keeping my eyes on the road and my hands gripping the steering wheel.
Tessa fell silent again, looking out the window as her own thoughts consumed her. “I can’t help but wonder…am I making a mistake? Are we rushing into this? I mean, I’m only twenty-two,” she said, her voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. Her gaze was still focused out the window.
“Does it feel like a mistake?” I asked softly, my eyes darting over to meet hers.
