I can’t bring myself to look at Reid.
“Right,” he agrees, and the one word hurts to hear more than I care to confess. “Not dating.” He sighs, then gets off the net. “I’m going swimming. I’ll let you two . . . hang out.”
“Thank god,” Jessica says, immediately sliding into his spot on the net beside me. I grit my teeth together, not at all thrilled to replace Reid’s presence next to me with hers. She immediately lays down, shutting her eyes and sunning herself like a lizard on a rock. Reid gives me one last look that has me flashing back to yesterday, to the kiss on the airplane and the excitement I felt up until this very moment. And then he’s gone, leaving me alone with my little sister’s horrible college roommate.
“Are you?” Jessica asks. I pull my gaze from where Reid was standing to look at her. She’s slid her oversized sunglasses down her nose and is peering at me. “Are you dating him?” There’s a hint of something sharp in her voice, and I want to call it jealousy, but I know that can’t be right. Why would she be jealous about me potentially dating a man she had a crush on years ago?
Her ego, a small voice in the back of my mind says.She can’t stand rejection, let alone someone else getting the man who rejected her.
“No,” I finally spit out, because no matter the truth, I’m not confiding any of my relationship with Reid to Jessica of all people. “We aren’t dating.”
“Good.” She pushes her sunglasses back up, turns back to the sun, totally unbothered by the conversation while something in my chest is burning at the confession. “Because that would be one of the dumbest things you could do.”
I stare at her open-mouthed. “Why is that?”
“Reid doesn’t date. He’ll just string you along and use you and then never talk to you again. He’s a play boy, Jane. Don’t fall victim to his charms. You’ll only get hurt in the end. Trust me.”
“I don’t know, I feel like he’s different from that persona. He’s sweet and kind and funny and?—”
“Jane,” she cuts me off. “He’s a boy. Aplayboy. Besides this is my best friend’s wedding, and I’ll be damned if everyone is busy talking about her perpetually single sister trying to seduce the forever-a-bachelor best man. How mortifying would that be to explain to everyone when you’re crying at the reception because he’s hitting on a waitress?”
Her words settle with me for a moment. Perpetually single sister. It was meant to make me look like one of those girls who can never land a relationship no matter how hard she tries. One of those girls that have been single so long people ask what’s wrong with her and start to shy away.
Especially people like the forever-a-bachelor best man. A man who blatantly said yesterday hedoesn’t do relationships or feelings. That he has no clue what he’s doing. A man who is used to casual relationships and not knowing people’s names and administering consistent rejections.
She could be wrong. I could be wrong, too. I’m not sure who to trust right now.
I look over the edge of the boat to Reid in the water. As if sensing my attention, he turns his head, his gaze locking on mine. I stop breathing as he flashes me a brilliant smile and winks. I already have feelings for him, but I don’t know what this will look like when we get back home, back to our normal lives where we don’t keep getting thrown into wedding planning. What will that look like for us without having this wedding to talk about or bond over? When this trip ends, will we realize we were just in a close proximity and that we have nothing in common? Will we realize we’re not right for each other and go our separate ways with the memories?
The difference is that he’d move along just fine and I’ll probably always struggle to move past the guy in Positano with the piercing blue eyes.
Chapter 20
You’d think sitting in a spa lounge with a limoncello in hand and a fuzzy white bathrobe on my body would help me to relax from the stress of being the sole planner for my sister’s wedding, but it’s not. Instead, my foot is tapping in the plastic sandals they gave all of us and my thoughts are spiraling so fast I can’t even get my brain to focus on the Enya playing in the background.
“I’m just saying you can’t have the same nails as the bride,” Kate continues, still holding onto the pale pink polish Lydia had tried to grab for her pedicure.The stress must really be eating at Kate, because the closer we get to the wedding, the more she’s acting like a bridezilla. Everyone is walking on eggshells around her more than usual, afraid they’ll be the ones to set her off and either cause a fight or tears.
“It’s just going on my toes. No one will even see it,” Lydia argues. I swear her lip quivers, and I’m momentarily surprised to see her have any sort of emotion toward Kate aside from adoration.
“There are a thousand other pinks you can choose from,” Kate says.
“Kate, it’s nail polish. She’s not wearing your wedding dress,” I try to intervene. Kate turns to me with a sharp glare that might’ve once caused me to shrink. Today, though, I simply raise a challenging brow. And that feels really empowering.
“Mom,” Kate whines.
“Lydia, this is Kate’s wedding. Please just choose another color.”
Lydia’s snaps her mouth shut, drawing her lips into a hard line as she stomps back to the shelf of nail polish colors, Jessica trailing behind her.
Mom turns to me now, a hand on her hip. “And you.”
“Me?” I squeak.
“Yes, you. Quit stirring the pot. We’re going to get to the end of this wedding without any more tears, unless they’re happy ones.”
I sigh, lifting the glass to my lips, all the fight suddenly drained from my body. “Yes, mom,” I mutter. Mom turns back to comfort a near-tears Kate, who is either milking the situation or legitimately emotional over nail polish, and I pull my phone out of the robe pocket for literally anything else to do. My heart flutters—flutters, the traitorous organ—when I see Reid’s name on my screen.
Reid: how’s the spa day?
