“I did,” I said. “And you look nice too, Peyton. You look—absolutely breathtaking.”
Peyton blushed again at this, focusing her attention back on the dance floor so she wouldn’t have to face me. She brought the drink to her lips and took a long drink, brushing a lose strand of hair from her face. Whether it was from the booze or the conversation, the red tint in her cheeks made me crazy for her.
“Wanna get out of here?” I asked, expecting an enthusiastic yes from Peyton. Instead, she turned to glare at me, red lips pursing in disappointment.
“How about we stay for your best friend’s wedding,” she insisted, a cold note riding her tone. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” I grumbled, but before Peyton could chastise me further, the DJ spoke up over the microphone, demanding everyone’s attention.
“It’s time for the bouquet toss!” the DJ howled, a far too giddy man for my liking. “Female friends of the bride—the singletons, of course—gather around!”
Before I could speak, Peyton stood up from the table and crossed the floor with the rest of Paisley’s friends to attempt to catch the bouquet. She didn’t even look at me as she stood in the small group of women, making easy conversation with every person she faced, always the friend. I watched from my chair as Paisley walked up to the stage and turned her back to the audience, vibrant bouquet firmly between her hands. As the music played, she threw the bouquet blindly over her shoulder, and it sailed across the room, landing directly in the middle of the single-woman mob the bride’s friends had formed. I looked away just briefly to take another drink of my beer, and when I looked back towards the middle of the floor, I realized it was Peyton who had caught the bouquet. Of course.
“Prepare yourself, man,” Hansen said, coming up behind me with a plate of food balancing in his hands. Before I could ask him to clarify, Peyton rushed towards me, practically glowing, the flowers firmly between her hands.
“I caught it,” she said loudly, and the crowd of weddinggoers laughed and cheered good-naturedly for her.
Whatever compelled me to say what I said next, I may never know, but I opened my mouth as Peyton approached the table and loudly said to the crowd, “This guy is never getting married.”
I realized my mistake as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but by then it was too late. Only some of the crowd had even heard me, but it was plenty enough to draw in miffed stares and annoyed glances from the strangers around me. Peyton stopped walking right before she got to the table, and now the bouquet seemed limp in her hands.
“Dude,” muttered Hansen behind me, but I didn’t have to turn and face him to know what a jackass I’d just been.
“Tate, keep the bouquet for Paisley,” she said, her eyes leaving my face to look at my friend. She stepped forward and handed him the bunch of flowers, and then stepped back, her eyes once more on me. “You wanted to go. Are you ready to go?”
“Do you mind if we take off, man?” I asked Hansen, glancing over my shoulder. He shrugged and shook his head, looking like he wanted to say something to me, but whatever it was he couldn’t say in front of Paisley.
“Thank you for coming,” he said to Peyton, leaning in for a hug. He whispered something in her ear as he embraced her, and I couldn’t hear what it was. A second later Paisley appeared, grinning at Peyton with excitement.
“It was really good to meet you, Peyton,” she said, leaning in to hug my date. “It’s been a pleasure. I never would have imagined that Korbin might actually have someone out there who can tolerate him and his overzealous fear of commitment.”
Peyton said nothing to this, only smiled, but her body tensed slightly, and her jaw tightened. “Congratulations, you two,” she said. “This wedding was absolutely lovely.”
I stood from the chair finally to give my well wishes to the bride and groom, ignoring how tightly Hansen squeezed my hand, almost painfully, as I shook it and hugged him, then Paisley. Peyton stood back and waited for me, still looking as vibrant and lovely as ever, if not for the sour expression she wore every time her eyes landed on me.
I gathered our jackets and helped Peyton shrug into hers, then took her hand and we walked together out of the event hall and towards the truck. Peyton was silent as we did this, and there was no sound around us except for the slight jingling of the silver jewelry she wore around her wrist. I opened the door for her, and she climbed in, still quiet, and even as I started to engine and pulled out of the lot, she said nothing at all. She wouldn’t even look at me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as we drove, knowing already that I probably wouldn’t like the answer.
“Nothing is wrong,” she said after a moment. “I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?” I took my eyes off the road to look at her, shaking my head with a slight chuckle. “I don’t know much, honey, but I do know thatfineis the kiss of death.”
“Sure,” Peyton said softly, but her eyes still refused to meet mine. “I guess it’s just good to know where I stand, Korbin.”
I knew we were headed into dangerous territory, but I couldn’t stop it. Not now.
“What do you mean?” I asked, and Peyton chuckled bitterly.
“I thought things might be different this time around,” she said, and her tone was so soft I almost couldn’t hear her.
“What do you mean, Peyton?”
“What I mean, Korbin, is that you let me fall in love with you all over again,” she said, and this time when she spoke her voice cracked, and it felt like part of my heart cracked with it. “You let me fall in love with you,” she said again. “Only to tell the world that we would never be together. Not really. Not—not forever. I knew this would happen, you know. It’s why I haven’t been to bed with you. Because it wasn’t going to change anything. Not really. It would just make this harder.”
“Peyton.”
“Don’t call me that.”
