He didn’t mean any of it. He was just fucking with me.
A wave of emotion hits, but I swallow it back.
I’m not going to shed another tear over that awful memory ever again.
That memory is just a reminder that I was never really all that important to Liam. I thought I was. I thought we were friends. I thought he could never be so mean and cruel.
I was wrong.
He’s still cocky and inconsiderate and selfish. And I’d bet anything he always will be.
Chapter 4
Liam
Iglance around the inside of Lockeland Table, the restaurant where Aidan and Micah are having their engagement party.
“Woah,” I say to myself as I step off to the side so I don’t block the entrance.
I’ve eaten here once before on a date and it’s a cool vibe. It’s a remodeled older brick building with rustic and modern aesthetics. The ceiling is a mix of exposed HVAC pipes and funky light fixtures. The place is decked out in dark wood flooring and antique framed pictures.
But it’s the decor for the engagement party that I can’t stop staring at.
At the entrance is an easel displaying a big sleek white sign that says, “We’re engaged! Let’s celebrate! Love, Micah and Aidan” in pretty gold cursive. There’s a cluster of gold balloons on either side of the sign.
Instead of the regular arrangement of seats in the restaurant, all the wooden tables have been pushed together into a single long table that runs the length of the dining area. Along the middle of the table are vases of fluffy white flowers and candles.
Against the main wall of the restaurant are the words “Mr. & Mrs.” spelled out in giant gold balloon letters. Soft mood musicplays over the speaker system as the guests mill around and chat. I spot a four-tiered dessert tower on the far side of the restaurant, covered in what looks like cupcakes and mini pecan pies.
A server walks up to me and offers me a glass from his tray.
“Would you like to try tonight’s signature cocktail? It’s a married mint julep.”
“Married?” I ask.
He smiles and nods. “There’s a splash of cranberry juice to add just a little something extra special. The best woman thought it up. It’s quite refreshing.”
Just the mention of Kendall makes my heart sink.
“Sure. Thank you,” I take a sip, savoring the burst of mint and bourbon on my tongue.
A wave of guilt throttles me. Kendall was stuck planning this whole party by herself because I was an inconsiderate jerk. She did an incredible job—better than I could ever do.
But that’s not the point. The point is, I let her down. I agreed to do this with her, and I dropped the fucking ball.
I think back to last week when Kendall and I argued in the street after I showed up an hour late to plan this engagement party.
Regret radiates through me like a sting. I really fucked everything up.
I think about the laundry list of excuses I gave Kendall. Yeah, they were all true. I was insanely busy that week and my phone died that night.
I think about how I tweaked my knee during conditioning earlier that week and how that threw me off for the rest of the day…how it freaked me out and played on my biggest insecurity: that hockey is the only thing I’m good at, so if I screw it all up with an injury, I’ll have nothing left.
I was so consumed by the stress of that, that I ignored my phone, my emails, my friends and family. It wasn’t until a few days later, when the pain in my knee went away, that I was able to pull myself out of that mindset.
But none of that mattered. I still let Kendall down.
My plan was to explain myself, apologize, and promise to take care of every single thing left on my part of the to-do list for the engagement party. But she was so upset at me showing up an hour late that I barely got a word in before she went off on me. And then she said she’d just do all the planning herself before storming off.
