Rose couldn’t have thrown away her chance with a better man.
Riley had wanted to marry Brent since they were fifteen. Since before he even understood what that meant about him.
As they aged, it had gotten more and more obvious that Brent didn’t quite feel the same way. So Riley had given up on the idea.
Well, sort of. Deep in his heart, it was still the thing he wanted most in the world.
Riley brought the champagne bottle and glasses over to Brent, setting them on the table in front of him.
“And you will be happy,” Riley added belatedly. “You’re going to make someone deliriously happy one day. You’re impossible not to love.”
Brent snorted as he reached for the champagne bottle. “Apparently not.”
He peeled off the foil and twisted the cork out of the bottle with more confidence than Riley would have had in his place, a loud pop echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen.
“I kinda expected that to go everywhere,” Riley said, nodding to the champagne bottle that was definitely not overflowing right now.
“Only if you open it wrong,” Brent responded. “If it foams up you lose all the bubbles, which are… kinda the only thing that makes it different from cheap wine, really. I watched a documentary a while back.”
“Younerd.” Riley laughed, taking the glass Brent offered him when he was done pouring.
“I am a nerd,” Brent said. “I’m an accountant. I have a comic book collection. I watchStar Trekre-runs on purpose.”
“You’re adorable.” Riley shrugged. “It’s okay to like things. Nerd is a stupid insult. I think you’re cool.”
Brent laughed softly. This time, he sounded as though he meant it. “If you’re being this nice to me, you must really be worried.”
“I’d say nice things to you all the time, but I know it makes you uncomfortable. For the record, I think you’re amazing. And I think that you’ll find the right person one day, and that person will love everything about you.”
“Even my freckles?”
“Especiallyyour freckles. One day, someone will love you enough to keep a running count of them, because they’re part of you, and every part of you is special.”
Brent raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking about having them faded, actually. I… well, Rose mentioned it to me, and I’m not sure if she was serious or…”
“I’d miss them,” Riley said, his gut twinging at the mention of Rose wanting Brent to change something that was literally embedded in his skin. That didn’t sound quite right. “I mean, it’s your body, and you should do what makes you happy, but if you’re looking for an opinion, keep them. They suit you.”
Riley knew that Brent didn’t hate his freckles. He’d never even mentioned them before now, not seriously.
Maybe Riley had been wrong about Rose. Maybe she wasn’t as nice as she seemed.
If he’d been around more often, he would have known. He probably would have been able to predict this, prepare for it, maybe even talk Brent out of asking her to marry him in the first place.
But he hadn’t been around. And now he was picking up the pieces.
That didn’t feel like doing Brent a favor. It felt like penance for not having been there for him all this time. Not when it really mattered.
Maybe he would never have realized, but he couldn’t let go of the thought that he might have.
“This is good,” Brent said, sipping from his glass.
“Really?” Riley lifted his own glass, watching bubbles trail up the side and burst when they got to the surface.
“Absolutely not,” Brent admitted, taking another sip. “Burns like cheap vodka. Smells like grape bubble gum. But it’s alcoholic, which is all I’m asking from it right now.”
Riley chuckled, taking a sip from his own glass. Everything Brent said was true, but if the point was to get drunk, it’d do the job.
“Emily told me you weren’t going to leave for your honeymoon until Monday. The Caribbean seemed like a weird choice for you.”
