She blinked innocently at me, which meant she knew exactly what she had done.
“You are too damn chipper,” I muttered. “Normal people spend the morning after a party binge-watching crime documentaries, not dragging their best friend into social warfare.”
“Blame Gid,” she chirped. “He loves activities.”
Her bright red polo and pleated skirt made her look like a legit golfer. Meanwhile, I was in yoga pants and a semi-appropriate collared shirt, feeling like an imposter. It was all I had that was semi decent and it’s not like I was going to waste the money for a matching golf set that highlighted my curves— no matter how much I dreamed of the day I could be that carefree.Soon.
To make matters infinitely worse, Brooks and the other guys looked annoyingly good in their athletic shirts and pullovers, their broad shoulders and obscene biceps showcased in the most unfair way.
Fiona’s smile faded slightly as she studied my expression. “Okay, look,” she said, lowering her voice. “Brigham backed out because of his shoulder, and Gideon invited Brooks. I assumed that was fine since, you know… you’re going to the wedding with him. But judging by your face, I may have miscalculated.”
“Mm hm,” I said, teeth clenched. “Totally fine.”
He knew what he was doing.
I forced my greatest acting performance to date and plastered a grin on my face.Do this for Fiona. You love her.
“Morning, gentlemen,” I said cheerfully, stepping up to the group.
Brooks’s eyes lit up like he was enjoying this way too much. “Hey, Mitch.”
The way he said my name—too familiar, too easy, too much—made my spine stiffen.
“Y. Mitch-y. Isn’t that the universal nickname for Michelle?” he asked, a smirk teasing his lips as he realized his error.
I didn’t dare look at Fiona. “Nope,” I said smoothly. “Shelle is.”
If Fiona caught on to the wrong nickname, she would never let it go. Brooks just grinned knowingly.
“Let’s start,” I said, desperate to end this interaction.
“I got us two carts—figured you and Bummy could share,” Gideon said happily, practically beaming at Fiona. He looked at her like she hung the damn moon, and I wasn’t enough of a selfish asshole to break up the lovefest. She deserved the world and then some.
“Perfect,” I said through my teeth, setting my clubs in the back of the cart. Fantastic. Trapped in a tiny moving vehicle with Brooks. His body was so large and took up too much room. I couldn’t escape his intoxicating scent even if I tried.
I grabbed my nine iron and teed off first, channeling all my irritation into the swing. The ball soared dead center down the fairway.
Brooks let out a low whistle. “Nice shot. Never thought to take you for a golfer.”
I refused to let his praise fluster me. “I’m full of surprises,” I snapped, shoving my shoulder into his as I walked past.
Brooks just chuckled under his breath before stepping up for his turn.
Fiona, completely oblivious, cracked open a beer in the golf cart.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, huh?” I teased.
“Hell yeah, it is,” she said, holding up the can in a mock toast.
Then, casually, she said, “Oh, I meant to ask you yesterday, but the party got away from me. Is your brother still coming around? Gid and I were talking about it. We want to help.”
My heart stopped.
My eyes flicked to Brooks, who was lining up his shot. Did he hear?
If he did, he didn’t react.
Thank God.That was the last thing I wanted to discuss with him. That would cause too many questions and I didn’t want to go down that route.
