I expected something else. Shock. Anger. A question. Anything.
Instead, I got logistics.I have to get these drinks to the groomsmen.
The absurdity of it hits me hard enough that I almost laugh.
I step back against the wall because my knees feel unreliable. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been building toward for months. I thought the bomb would take Damian out, not my knees.
Footsteps approach. When I glance upward, it’s Jason. He leans against the opposite wall like this is some casual intermission between groomsmen duties. “Why are you pale?”
I push off the wall. “I…I’m fine.”
“You always get that look when you overthink things,” he adds lightly.
I stare at him. “What do you want?”
He grins a familiar grin. The one that used to disarm me. Used to make me forget what I was angry about. “You know,” he says, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “it’s my last few hours before I’m no longer a free man.”
My gut knows where he’s heading with this, but I will play dumb as long as possible. “Congratulations.”
“How about,” he continues, stepping closer, “you and I find a room around here and do what we do best?”
Damn him for proving my gut right. “What?”
Please don’t say it again. Say anything but that.
He chuckles and reaches out, lifting my chin like he has the right. “Me. You. A private room?—”
I jerk away. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m nostalgic, and we had some good times, Per. We can have them again if you?—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” I say, my voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. “Ever.”
His smile falters. “Oh, come on?—”
“I am not your backup plan,” I snap. “I am not your anything.”
Something flickers across his face—surprise? Offense? “You used to be.”
“Not anymore. Go to the groom’s suite, get some coffee, and forget all about whatever the hell you just tried to pull. That’s my plan.”
He braces a hand on the wall behind me, leaning in far too close. “Per, you know you want me.”
“I don’t want you,” I say clearly. “Not even a little.”
He straightens slightly. “That’s not what it looked like on New Year’s.”
“I was angry,” I say. “That’s over. I don’t want you, Jason. I’m not sure how to be clearer about that.”
He watches me, trying to read something that isn’t there anymore. “You’re different.”
“I am.” I step around him.
He doesn’t stop me.
As I walk away, heart hammering, I realize something terrifying.
In ten minutes, I detonated everything.
