The bathroom is mercifully empty.
I brace my hands against the cool porcelain sink, head bowed, water dripping down my face. My reflection stares back at me, rumpled shirt, tie hanging loose, jaw tight like I’ve just gone ten rounds with myself.
I haven’t seen Hayley since the ceremony. Not properly. We were at the same table, sure, but parked at opposite ends, and she spent most of dinner laughing with Ben or chatting to Lily. Every time I looked up, she was looking anywhere but at me.
And now she’s gone. Vanished.
She ran off the second the dancing started, and I haven’t seen her since.
I told her finally, about Ben’s party, about how long I’ve known her, about why I was so desperate to be here in the first place.
She didn’t say a word. Not about the kiss. Not about me. Nothing.
Maybe she believes I really am the cliché. The smug bastard with a reputation. The guy who lets women paw at him like he’s part of the entertainment and never bothers to push them away.
And yet this morning, for one fleeting second, I thought we’d turned a corner. She looked at me like maybe, just maybe, she really saw me. Wanted me helping. Wantedme.
But now? She’s avoiding me.
I grab a paper towel, scrub the water off my face, and straighten my tie. No use brooding in here.
The corridor is quiet, tucked away from the main flow of guests. The second I step out, someone grabs my arm.
“Tyler,” Helen purrs, too close, the gold on her fingers flashes under the corridor lights, a warning before she even speaks.
Her perfume hits first, too floral, too sweet, and it makes me nauseous. I can’t believe I ever thought that smell was attractive. She’s tipsy, I can smell the booze on her breath, and her free hand is already skating across my chest like she has a right to touch me.
“Helen.” I step back just enough to break her grip. “You’ve had a few drinks. Maybe you should…”
“Oh, relax.” She laughs, too loud for the corridor. “You don’t have to do the whole chivalrous act with me. I know you, remember?”
She steps closer, fingers trailing up my arm like it’s supposed to mean something.
“You don’t have to pretend you’ve gone all… noble,” she murmurs, leaning in, her lips almost brushing my ear. “We’re good together, Tyler. Always have been. You just need reminding.”
I catch her wrist before her hand can go any higher. “Helen.” My voice is firmer this time.
She tilts her head, smiling in that smug way she does when she thinks she’s winning. “What? Afraid your little bridesmaid will see?”
I grit my teeth, the words barely more than a mutter. “This isn’t happening.”
“Oh, come on.” Her laugh is syrupy, almost mocking now. “It’s a wedding. You can play knight in shining armour with her tomorrow. Tonight, you can…”
She slides her other hand toward my waistband, uninvited.
“I said no.”
That wipes the smirk off her face.
Helen blinks, then recovers fast, smile turning razor sharp.
“Oh, please,” she sneers. “You’re really going to throw away everything we had forher? The jester? She’s a mess, Tyler. She’s embarrassing. Always putting on some big show like she’s themain event, when everyone knows she’s just there for comedy value.”
Something hot and immediate flares in my chest.
“Enough.”
She startles at my tone, but I’m past polite now.
