Page 6 of Miss Belief

He ran his hands over his silky locks making me wish my hands were touching him instead. Maybe I should re-evaluate my suggestion for him to get a haircut. He was adorable as it was.

“So what you’re telling me is I’ve turned into an overweight, shaggy, sleepy alcoholic.”

“Self-deprecation will not solve the issue. You simply need to start taking better care of yourself. You’re—” Incredibly hot, too adorable for words, battery-operated-friend worthy. “You’re still a nice-looking guy.”

He let out a deep chuckle. “Don’t worry. Just because I’m holding on to your compliment like the last crumb of my self-esteem doesn’t mean I’m weird about it.”

We both grinned at his humor.

“Glad to hear it.”

His grin faded, and he heaved a heavy sigh. “This wedding is a disaster waiting to happen. Everyone there will be hoping we’ll reconcile.”

As much as it pained me to ask, I had to know. “Do you want to get back together?”

“No.”

He didn’t elaborate, but his resolute answer was a relief. Nevertheless, I absolutely hated the idea of him attending a wedding alone with everyone plotting to get him and his ex back together.

“Maybe you should take another woman with you as your date for the weekend.” I tamped down on my jealousy as I made the suggestion.

“Yeah, like who?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone you previously dated? It would certainly send a message if you brought an ex-girlfriend to a destination wedding.”

“I’ve never had another girlfriend.”

My eyes went wide. “Never?” Reid was thirty-two years old, about to turn thirty-three on September tenth—because yeah, I’d been obsessed with him long enough to have learned that sort of detail. But I certainly hadn’t thought his fiancée was the only woman he’d ever dated.

His face flushed. “I dated other people, you know, in between the breakups, but it wasn’t ever serious with anyone else. Definitely not anyone I could call up out of the blue and invite to a destination wedding two weeks away.”

In between the breakups. The words bounced in my brain. How many times had he and his fiancée broken up and gotten back together? Sounded as if it was their pattern. No wonder people might believe they’d reconcile yet again.

“Any chance you can skip the wedding altogether?”

“I’m a groomsman, and frankly speaking, pride won’t let me bow out, so no. But your suggestion of taking a date could work if…” His face lit up with whatever idea he had.

“If what?”

His expression lit up. “If you’ll go with me.”