“So, yes.”

  “No, it’s just… rude!” she exclaims.

  “Maybe she doesn’t think we’re together given how far away you’re sitting,” I say, gesturing to the space that could fit two people comfortably. She huffs and tucks a hair behind her ear. “Your hair is longer.” I’ve been staring at it all night. She’s always had gorgeous hair and if anything, it’s gotten more beautiful. It’s full and healthy and has those natural waves that women damage their hair trying to obtain. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Of course, you noticed,” she murmurs, more to herself but I hear it despite her low tone and the dull roar of the lounge. “Anything else?”

  I narrow my eyes and wonder if this is some sort of test. I lean forward. “Are you asking if there’s anything else that’s different since the last time I saw you? If I noticed the tattoo peeking out from under the strap of your jumpsuit?” I point at the ink I’d never seen before. It’s sitting just below her clavicle, which means it must be small because it’s somewhat hidden beneath the strap of the halter strap that is probably only an inch wide. “That you don’t wear eyeliner anymore, just mascara and, quite frankly, that suits you better. You were nineteen the last time I saw you, so I don’t think you’re taller and your figure looks pretty much the same. You’ve always had a gorgeous shape and if you want me to comment further on that I can.” I give her a smile and her lips part and her teeth sink into them and if I’m not mistaken a quiet sigh leaves her. I swallow down a groan, wishing I could lick that pouty lip. “Is that a yes?” I raise an eyebrow at her. If she wants me to go down this road, I am more than willing to.

  “It’s not a no…” She trails off and her cheeks pinken, probably in realization as to what she’s just said.

  “This jumpsuit highlights your slim waist. I remember how I could grip your hips when you rode me. They fit my hands perfectly.” She swallows, her brown eyes not leaving mine not even to blink. “Every time you turned around in this tonight, my heart stopped. It hugs the curve of your delicious ass so perfectly. Since it’s a wide leg pant, I can’t really tell if those thighs you got from cheerleading and dancing are as juicy as I remember them.” I lower my voice and my gaze to find her breasts. “And those.” Goose bumps erupt on her flesh and I take that as a good sign that I can still affect her with just a look and my voice. “Your perky tits.” I groan, thinking about what they used to feel like in my mouth and how they’d pebble under my gaze. “I used to think that your tits had the power to make me do anything.” I chuckle. “All you’d have to do is pull your top off and I’d be on my knees in front of you.”

  “I never had that much power over you,” she interrupts and I frown at her.

  Is she serious? When we were together, all she had to do was look at me and I’d do anything for her. “What world are you living in? Yes, you did.”

  “Clearly not. Because you left. After I begged. Pleaded. Cried. Begged more. Don’t tell me that all I would have had to do that night is pull my top off and you would have stayed because I will get up from this table right now.” Her words are hard but I see the pain in her eyes and the tears she’s trying to keep at bay. I ball my hands into a fist again to keep from touching her.

  “Baby.”

  Her eyes harden and she turns away from me. “No.” In that moment, our drinks arrive and I barely pay our waitress a glance as I grunt out a thank you. When she leaves, I speak again.

  “Whitney.” She looks at me as if to say, okay what? “I made a mistake.” She looks down at her drink and takes a tentative sip, followed by a large sip of water as if to counteract the alcohol she’s putting in her system so she can maintain some semblance of control. “I love you.” Her eyes widen and I shrug, laying all my cards out on the table once in for all. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve never stopped loving you. Don’t marry him.” Her lip wobbles and I know she’s seconds from losing it. “Can I take you somewhere more private? We can go to my house—”

  “There you are!” The voice of Chloe stops me and unfortunately penetrates the haze that Whitney and I are in because I think Whitney was going to agree to coming back to my place. Fuck, Trey seriously? I give him a look and he winces and gives me a look as if to say what the fuck did you want me to do?

  Chloe slides in next to Whitney forcing her slightly closer to me which I’d love if not for the fact that Chloe is in fact here. Trey slides in on the other side closer to me. “What are we talking about, what are we doing?” Chloe bounces in the seat, her blonde curls bouncing with her. She snaps her fingers between the two of us and I laugh at how drunk she clearly is. “Where do we get drinks? Do we have a waiter or do we go to the bar?”

  “Baby, I think you’ve had enough,” Trey says and Whitney and my eyes both snap to his.

  “Baby!?” Whitney shrieks. “Let me at him,” she says, trying to push Chloe out of the booth so she could get to my younger brother.

  “Relax, Whitney,” Chloe says before shooting a look at Trey as if to say really?

  “We’re together, everyone just has to get with it.” Trey gives Whitney a pointed look as if he was talking specifically to her.

  “WHAT!?” Whitney blinks her eyes several times before shaking her head. “I don’t believe this. For how long? Until you come later?” I wince at her harsh words.

  “Whitney.” I give her a look and she narrows her eyes at me. Because although I was thinking something similar, it’s really not our business.

  “Are you kidding me? You have zero room to talk about anything.” She looks at Chloe. “Bathroom.”

  “Whitney…”

  “Move it,” she says through gritted teeth. “Now.”

  Chloe rolls her eyes and gets up before casting a glance at Trey. “Can you order me a vodka soda, please?”

  “Of course.” She smiles and moves to his side of the table before pressing her lips to his quickly. When she pulls away, they’re both staring at each other with the goofiest smiles on their faces. Whitney’s wide eyes find mine and we share a look of confusion before Chloe and Whitney leave for the bathroom.

  As soon as they’re out of earshot, I stare at my brother prepared to not only berate him for ruining the moment with Whitney but for whatever the fuck has happened in the last hour since we left Whitney’s parents’ house. “Okay, first of all, you have the worst fucking timing. I told you, I’d let you know when to meet us and second of all, what the fuck?”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Chloe is touching up her makeup and not even paying me any attention as I pace the length of the thankfully empty women’s room. “You and Trey? This isn’t a good idea!”

  “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” she says as she pulls her mascara wand away from her lashes to cast me a sideways glance. “I’m fairly certain what I’m doing isn’t hurting anyone. Or what would you call what Trey and I just walked in because you looked about five seconds from mounting him in the booth?” She looks at my engagement ring and then back at me.

  “We’ll come back to your judgment in a second. It’s going to hurt you,” I respond, referring to what she said about how starting things up again with Trey wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  She puts her mascara back in her purse and lets out a sigh. “Maybe it does. But I still love him and maybe I don’t owe him the chance he’s asking for…” She shrugs. “But I owe it to me.” She leans against the sink and crosses her arms. “There’s a reason I still love him, Whitney. He didn’t do anything to me. I broke things off with him.”

  “Because he wouldn’t commit!” Memories of her being so depressed she refused to get out of bed come charging back into my head. These Price brothers did a fucking number on us both.

  “But that’s something that can change. It’s not as if he was too into his work or slept with someone else or he wasn’t good in bed. The problem was that he wasn’t ready for more a year ago and now he is. I’m available, he’s available. He wants to be with me, Whitney. I’ve wanted this for so long and maybe things don’t work out but I just want to give it a chance.”

  I sigh because it actually does make sense and if Trey is actually willing to commit to her this could actually be great for the both of them. They were, at one point, very good for each other. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  “And I love that and you. You’re my best friend Whitney, you always have been but I’m your older cousin. You don’t have to look out for me all the time.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and gives them both a squeeze before dropping her hands. “Now circling back to my ‘judgment,’” she says, using air quotes. “What did I just walk in on? What are you doing here alone with him? Whitney, you know this is a bad idea.”

  “Well, he showed up at my house so thank you for warning me that he’d left my parents’ house. I could have assumed that he’d come after me but I wasn’t anticipating him surprising me at the house I share with my fiancé!”

  She puts a hand over her mouth in shock. “Oh my God, really!?”

  “Yes, and Parker saw him on the door camera and—”

  She puts a hand on her forehead. “Wait, you let him in?”

  “No! I saw him pull up because I was waiting for you to show up and I met him outside before he could even get to the door.”

  “So how did Parker see? I understand if he rang the doorbell because I get those alerts too from the Blink app but… how would he have seen…?”

  “I guess he got an alert when I opened the door?”

  Chloe narrows her eyes at me. “Why? You can turn that off, you know.”

  I feel like I can hear where her thoughts are going and I really don’t want to go down this road with her about that too. “Chlo…”

  “It just reads a little… controlling.”

  “Parker is not controlling, he just worries!”

  “Worries that you realize you’re out of his league and you leave him?” She snorts. Like the rest of my family, Chloe wasn’t necessarily Parker’s biggest fan. But hers more came from just not really meshing with his personality. She was exuberant and loud and bubbly and Parker could really only handle her in small doses. Well that and the fact that he’d cheated on me.

  “Chloe,” I snap, already getting fed up with this conversation. “You can’t chastise me about Jacob and Parker in the same conversation. Pick a lane.”

  She blanches. “Sorry.”

  “So, he shows up and he wants to come in and I say no and then he’s like can we talk and then Parker calls and is asking all these questions about him and I think he accepted my answer when I said who he was but then I just felt like I was doing something wrong…” I know I’m talking a mile a minute and I feel myself getting more worked up by the second. “So, we left and came here and… he told me he loved me and not to marry Parker and then asked if I’d come back to his place so we could talk in private and then thank God you showed up because I was honestly going to say yes.” I take a deep breath because I don’t think I did the whole time I was speaking. “I am a shitty person.”

  “Have you done anything with him?” she asks.

  “No, we just talked.”

  “Then you’re not a shitty person. Although I will say, Whitney, you’re going down a slippery slope because for you and Jacob? Talking sounds a lot like foreplay.” We are walking out of the bathroom and immediately my eyes find him. I wasn’t even looking for him and yet my gaze lands on him instantly from across the room. He’s staring at me like if he blinks, I’ll disappear and a part of me wants to. I want to run so far away from this bar. Run away from Jacob and my feelings and nineteen-year-old Whitney who’s begging me to give him another chance because this is Jacob.

  JP My JP

  “He’s still in love with me,” I say as I guide her toward the bar nestled in the corner of the lounge.

  Chloe leans against the bar and pushes my hair behind my back so she can see my face better. “That much is obvious. The question is are you still in love with him?”

  “I’m trying to do the right thing, Chlo. I’m engaged to another man.”

  “One doesn’t have anything to do with the other. Doing the right thing means admitting the truth to yourself. It means walking away tonight, breaking up with Parker so you can be free to be with the man you love. You’re twenty-two years old, marrying Parker when you’re still in love with someone else out of some weird sense of obligation because you said ‘yes’ to his proposal, isn’t doing the right thing, Whitney. You haven’t done anything wrong, yet.” She winces. “But I see the look he’s giving you and the one you’re giving him and I think you’re one drink or brush against him away from falling into bed with him and then that isn’t doing the right thing.”

  “Weren’t you drunk like ten minutes ago? Where is this voice of reason coming from? And where is all this logic when it comes to you and Trey?” I ask her as I drink the glass of water that the bartender placed in front of me that Chloe had motioned for.

  She shrugs. “The logic comes and goes.” She chuckles. “And it’s easier when it’s not your own life you know that.”

  I nod in agreement, because I know that’s the truth. It’s easy to cast opinions when your heart isn’t the one invested. We begin walking toward our seats and my skin begins to prickle in anticipation at being close to him again. “I… I don’t know what to do.” He scratches his beard and runs his thumb over his bottom lip before darting his tongue out to lick the skin. God, he’s fucking hot.

  “Then I suggest you put a pin in this and go home until at the very least, you’re sober,” Chloe advises.

  I let out a breath, trying to ignore the blood heating in my veins and the tingling in my sex. “You’re right.” I nod, and as if the universe is in complete agreement my phone begins to vibrate in my purse that’s currently resting against my hip. I open my bag and see Parker’s name on my phone. Perfect timing. Amazing timing. “Let me take this, I’ll meet you at the table.” Chloe heads back toward them and I swipe my finger across the screen.

  “I love you.” I tell him instantly. “I miss you. How are you?”

  “Where are you?” he asks and I frown that he didn’t respond to any of the things I said.

  “At a bar with Chlo,” I tell him and he sighs in response. “What’s wrong? I told you I was going out.”

  “You’re just with Chlo?”

  I freeze. There are moments in life where you’re forced to make a decision where the choice isn’t obvious but you don’t have a chance to weigh the pros and cons because you only have about a second to give an answer. The lie comes out before I have a chance to stop it. “Yep. Mason is still at my parents’, I think.”

  Guilt washes over me at the idea of lying to him. But what was the alternative? Tell him I was here on what is shaping up to be some kind of double date? Or even if I left out the tidbit about Trey and Chloe getting back together, he’d still question what I was doing drinking with my parents’ friend without my parents or even Mason. It would lead to questions and perhaps accusations that would be well warranted.

  I’ll tell him the truth when he gets home. I’ll tell him everything. Just not on the phone while he’s across the country and working. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “When are you going home?”

  I frown, also recalling my earlier conversations today. I feel like I’ve been interrogated all day and I’m officially over it. “Parker, stop it. I asked you a question, one I’m realizing you’ve been avoiding answering all day.”

  “I’m working, Whitney. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s past midnight in New York on a Friday night,” I say, looking at my watch. “There’s no way you’re still at the office. You run a chain of clubs.”

  “I’m the financial advisor for a chain of clubs, you act like I spend much time at any of them.” And that was true, I went to his clubs with Chloe more than he did. He didn’t mind me going, my guess because everyone knows I’m his fiancée and he has people keeping an eye on me. That wayward thought comes out of nowhere and throws me off slightly.

  “It still doesn’t change the fact that I asked what you’re doing and your response is to continue to interrogate me like you’ve been doing all day.”

  There’s a door where I’m standing that leads out onto the patio and I push through it and I’m happy to have some fresh air. There are people taking pictures and drinking, some rowdier than others but it’s still quieter than it is inside.

  He lets out a sigh and I can already picture him pulling at his hair like he always does when he’s agitated. “We went to dinner earlier at a steakhouse owned by one of the investors. Now we’re just at a rooftop bar. I wish you were here,” he says finally. “Everyone has their significant other here and I just… miss you.”

  Finally!

  “I miss you too. I’m sorry I’m not there.”

  “You could come tonight?” he says immediately. “I could get you a red eye and you could be here by the morning,” he offers and I freeze. “There’s an impromptu meet and greet before we open tomorrow night, I’d love it if you were here with me.”

  “Parker, I can’t… I have a huge paper due Tuesday.”

  “And yet you’re out tonight.”

  “Yes, for a few hours and I was planning to spend the entire day tomorrow, Sunday and Monday working on it, maybe even at the library. There’s a big difference between a few hours tonight and a cross-country trip that wouldn’t allow me any time to do any work.”

  “I’ll leave you completely alone until tomorrow night. I have work to do too. The suite is so nice, you can do your paper on this terrace with a view of Central Park and—”

  I wince, wondering how I’m going to let him down easily. “Parker, there’s a reason I didn’t come this time. It was just bad timing, remember? I have a lot going on with school.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Baby, don’t do this,” I plead with him. “Why have you been so pissy with me today? You’re acting like you don’t trust me here without you almost.” I swallow. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”