"Nellie gets around too much?" Braxton fills in for me. Even he knows.
"Well, that's the difference between you and me, isn't it, Liam?” Luke says proudly. “Because I, for one, never see that as a downside."
"Of course you wouldn't.” The next song catches my attention and reminds me that since the food is gone, we can get up and move, specifically, away from this irritating conversation.
I turn to Braxton and Beau and nod to the dance floor. "What are we waiting for? Let's get out there and dance. This is your song, isn't it?"
It's not Beau’s favorite song, but itis,in fact, a line dance number he perpetually poked fun at when we were young. And the fact is, it seems fitting that we embrace it, get out on the dance floor, and have a good time.
Like Beau said, tonight is a celebration of brotherhood. A celebration that at least one of us, well actually two, are engaged to the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with.
The hour gets later, and the music grows louder. We don't plan to stay late or anything, so it doesn't hurt for me to give it my all and give Beau the kind of night he was hoping for.
After a handful of songs, Beau and I clear the dance floor and head to the bar for another drink, anything without alcohol since the night’s winding down and we’re both driving home.
Beau shoulders up to the bar next to me as we wait for our Cokes. He shakes his head and smears a hand down his face. "Man, I feel so freaking lucky to be marrying Kirsten tomorrow. I can't wait."
I give him a slap on the back. "I'm happy for you, man. As crazy as that whole thing was—with Trish and Kirsten's ex, you two are coming out on top."
Beau sniffs and nudges me in the shoulder, which is code fordon't make me get emotional in public.
We get our Cokes, and Beau holds up his glass for another toast. I watch his face as he works on the words, his gaze seeming to get stuck somewhere close to, but not quite on, the dance floor.
MaybeI'mthe one who’s supposed to give the toast, I decide.
So I do. "To second chances and lasting love for each of us when the time is right."
Beau's gaze settles back on mine. A slight grin pulls at the corner of his lips. "When the time is right."
With that, we clink glasses and take a few swigs. Beau sets his glass back on the bar and looks at me once more. “Speaking of timing, I have a feeling that Ashley will be ready to talk things out soon and that you two will get past this."
I feel the truth in those words because, man, I love her, and I know she loves me.
I nod, look down, and sniff while giving Beau the shoulder bump this time.
"Well,” I say, “I don't want to hold my breath, but I'm not giving up hope yet, even if Idoget stuck going on some double date with Luke."
Suddenly, a darkness creeps over me. What if that wasn’t the truth I was sensing with Beau’s words? What if it was straight-out delusion?
I gulp down the possibility like a jagged pill, then tell myself that if Ashley doesn’t come around, I’ll move on somehow and hopefully find what Braxton and Beau have found. Still, the mere idea of loving anyone but Ashley makes me feel like a fraud.
"You ready to get back out there?” Beau asks. “They’re playing your song."
I can hardly believe my ears as I tune into the familiar melody blasting over the bar. Beau could never have known it, butthiswas the very song playing on the night I tried to stop Ashley from marrying Ross.
“Yeah," I say, forcing a crooked grin. Inwardly, I feel like one of the bowling pins in the path of Luke’s killer spin ball. The room actually spins as the beat plays on, the background music to the replay in my mind: to the desperation coursing through me as I attempted to get Ashley back all those years ago. Sure, Club 12 has been remodeled since then, but so many things areexactly the same—the sights, the smells, heck, even the music now.
"You go on ahead," I tell Beau. "I'll catch up with you guys in a minute." I'm tempted to drag one of the barstools over, plunk my butt onto it, and let the moment, the sorrow, and the acceptance burn through me like a refining fire. Heck, I could start a whole new bar tab and wallow in my feels until closing time. Sure, I’m no longer Liam Hurt Heart, but I still have to accept that Ashley may never come around.
But, I assure myself, this is not the time. I need to push through. When I get home, I'll flush it out with a midnight trip to the gym. Then, I'll show up for Beau's wedding tomorrow and do my best to celebrate with him there, too.
I spin around and head for the dance floor, vaguely feeling as if I'm walking through a field of ashes. The burnt remains of my hopes for a future with Ashley. I can't believe I actually have to accept it a second time. I loved her, and I lost her. I loved her again, and I –
"Umph," comes a female voice as I walk right into someone just a few feet from the dance floor.
I’m struck by a phantom scent of Ashley, tangy sweet like apples, and know my mind’s messing with me.
But my eyes must be deceiving me, too, because that silky black hair and the adorably short height have me wondering if I accidentally got the wrong drink. One with a double shot, maybe.
