Page 63 of Broken Vows

Lexie: I can’t accept it.

Theo: You can and will.

Oof… that demanding tone. I can just picture him saying this as his dark eyes narrow, as his jaw flexes under that facial hair. I press my thighs together and bite back a grin.

Theo: Besides, I’m learning the stupid wedding dance later this week, so consider this my apology—paid in advance.

I text back a thank you as the Uber pulls over. I shrug my purse over my shoulder and brace myself for what’s in store.

28 Lexie

Inside, the dark wood, ambient-lit bar is lively. Some people are sitting in deep-black leather booths, some gathered around high top tables, some hushed in a corner. Wait staff carrying trays of champagne and appetizers weave in between the crowd, and the line at the bar is two-to-three people deep.

I take a breath as a wide-grinned, open-armed, slicked-back hair Cody spies me from the corner and beelines my way.

Kill me now.

“Lexie! I’m so glad you could make it.” He pulls me into a hug. One that lasts a beat too long, where his deep musky cologne has now seeped into my clothes, which I’ll now need to burn. He steps back, but doesn’t drop my hand, and instead twirls me in a circle like I’m a ballerina on top of a music box. “What a dress, huh?” I swear to God if this vendor didn’t give us the below-market rates we need, I would’ve marched my ass away.

As Cody grabs himself a double and hands me a glass of wine, he proceeds to talk at me for the next thirty minutes about deals on specialty items he can “get us”, and the big-name clients his firm landed that he’s sworn to secrecy about. I almost scoff and tell him that I’m managing a Barlowe account, but I bite my tongue.

Can I leave yet?

“You’ll have to excuse me,” I say, interrupting his God-awful monologue. “I need to use the restroom.”

After weaving through the crowd, I escape into the bathroom and rummage through my purse, looking for my lipstick—any excuse to stall and buy myself more time alone. But my fingers skip past it and curl around my phone instead.

Lexie: With the way you keep warning me about dancing, I’m starting to think you’re underselling it. Are you really *that bad*?

The dots pop up immediately. Like the phone hasn’t left his hands since we last messaged, waiting for me.

Theo: I really am.

Lexie: I don’t buy it. Don’t athletes have control over their body?

Theo: What makes you think I’m an athlete?

Lexie: Call it an educated guess.

I send a gif of a cartoon character flexing its massive biceps with smoke shooting from its arms.

Lexie: Just saying.

Theo: (laughing emoji) I love that this is how you see me. And for the record, I have excellent control over my body.

Oh I bet he does. My body heats at the implication.

Lexie: Bold claim from a man who’s already admitted he can’t dance.

Theo: You know I can’t resist a challenge.

I check my watch and realize I’ve been hiding out in the bathroom far longer than I should have. As much as I’d love to stay hidden, I need to make the rounds. I fire off a quick text to Theo that I have to head back to the party, and re-enter the room, hoping I can avoid Cody.

But the moment I step back into the crowd, he catches my eye. Escape becomes impossible, so I reluctantly make my way over to the bar, where he’s deep in an animated conversation with a group of guys.

“There you are,” he says, rattling his empty glass at the bartender. “I was about to send out a search and rescue team.”

“Sorry, I had to take a call.”