Page 132 of Wrecking Us
My skin is crawling and I so badly want to leave, but something tells me if I go without talking to Trey, he’ll hunt me down and make everything worse.
“That was—” Andre says, letting out a breath.
“That wasn’t the right way to go about apologizing,” Paul says quietly. “At all.”
“He’s upset,” I say, not sure why I’m defending him.
“Of course he is,” Andre says. “But making a scene in the aisle right before the grooms walk down?” He shakes his head. “What the hell was he thinking?”
“Here you are,” the bartender says. “Do you want to start a tab?”
“Yes,” the three of us say.
“I got it,” Paul says.
“No, I have it,” Andre says, nudging Paul out of the way to hand the bartender his card. “And you can start a tab. Anything they get goes on this.”
“Of course, sir.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, reaching for my glass. I take a mouthful then stare at it, wanting to drink the rest, but knowing getting drunk likely won’t help.
“Well, wouldn’t be a wedding without some fucking drama, am I right?” Alex says from behind us. We turn to find him walking in with Jordan.
“Little ridiculous,” Andre says with a small shrug.
“Well, I thought it was romantic.” Alex grins. “And entertaining.”
Jordan shoots him a knowing glare. “You would.”
“And almost ruining your friends’ wedding?” Paul asks.
“Not cool,” Andre adds.
“I’d hardly sayruined,” Alex says.
“Okay, enough,” Jordan says. “We don’t need to get involved in whatever is going on.” He looks at me carefully. “Though I would really like to know what is going on.”
I shoot back the rest of my whiskey, then pull the glass from Paul’s hand and drink that too.
“We’re going to need some more of these,” he says to the bartender.
She nods and gets to work on our drinks.
Trey and Mandy come walking in. He scans the area, and when his eyes settle on me, determination crosses his face.
“Damnit,” I say, turning to face the bar. “This isn’t working fast enough.”
“Just breathe,” Paul says.
Despite the fact my heart is racing and this drink isn’t going down fast enough, I can’t get the image of him in his grey suit out of my head.
“Can we talk now?” Trey says.
“Just give him a few minutes,” Andre says.
“No offense, but no,” Trey says firmly.
I get my drink from the bartender, shoot it back, then stand. “Fine.”
