Page 119 of Rafferty's Rules
Will this evening never end?
‘Actually, I’m not thirsty.’
‘Okay, lets getmea drink.’ I find my elbow in his hand and that I’m on the tips of my toes as he leads me away.
At the makeshift bar, Tom orders himself a drink.
‘Are you sure you don’t want anything?’ I shake my head, trying to keep Rafferty and Byron in my line of vision. ‘They’re not going anywhere,’ he says with a deep frown as he notices.
‘No, I imagine not.’ This is their home, after all. ‘It looks like a very intense conversation.’ His eyebrows rise and he nods. ‘Any idea what it’s about?’
‘You don’t wanna know,’ he replies, taking his drink from the bartender with a nod of thanks.
‘I wouldn’t have asked if that were true.’ But the words are out of my mouth before I can think them through.
‘Rafferty fucked Byron’s ex.’
Woah. ‘Don’t hold back, will you?’ My voice is hoarse. Why does it feel like I’ve been punched in the throat?
‘You asked,’ he almost grunts.
‘And if I asked you to punch yourself in the face, how would that work?’
‘Do you want to find out? Better still, you can do the honours.’ He turns his face, tapping his jawline. ‘Go on, give it a go. See if you can knock some sense into me. Someone should give it a try.’ When I can do nothing but gape back at him because, come on, we’re not twelve, and we happen to be at a wedding, he adds, ‘Suit yourself.’
‘Are you always this weird?’
He appears to consider the question before answering, ‘Probably.’
‘And you realise how tasteless it is to say that kind of thing at a wedding?’
‘I’m pretty sure Amber isn’t the only one who finds it tasteless,’ he remarks pointedly.
‘Exactly.’ This isn’t a recent occurrence, this much I’m sure of. Amber and Byron have been together for a while, I know. Maybe this happened back when they were kids?
‘But what I want to know is,’ he stays, turning to face me fully as he props his elbow on the bar, his chin on his fist, ‘why you’re looking so surprised.’
‘Because that isnotthe kind of thing you say to a man’s girlfriend.’
‘What about saying it to his fake girlfriend?’ My blood goes hot and cold and hot again. ‘You’re a great actress, I’ll give you that.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
My voice drips with disdain but my mouth is operating on some kind of remote, my brain unsure what to process first. Hetoldhim? Why go to the trouble of having me here if he’s going to decide to do this kind of thing? ‘Am I’m here because he slept with Byron’s ex?’
‘Apparently.’ Apparently, I also said that out loud. ‘To throw off the scent. Not that it matters. They weren’t really dating. The woman is crazy, he was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.’
‘Sure,’ I scoff, taking an extra-large glass of wine from the bartender’s extended hand. Whether it was intended for another or is a pity wine, I really don’t care. ‘Absolutely. I can see that screwing his brother’s ex would mean nothing. And it certainly wouldn’t keep him away from this place for two years.’ I take a deep gulp.
‘Yeah,’ Tom answers irreverently. ‘I see your point. Same as it wouldn’t make him bring a fake girlfriend.’
My head turns again to where the brothers still sit, deep in conversation. Tom knows, now Byron knows. Who else do I need to add to the list?
His family? The people around me?
Am I destined to always be the wedding joke?
With that awful thought, I drain the lest of my wine.
