Page 88 of Playing the Backbeat

“To the happy couple.” Chris raises his glass. It’s our first night at the resort and the first time we’re all gathered in one place for this week-long vacation.

Aiden and Bec have been here for a week already, enjoying their honeymoon. I thought it would be weird to join them for their version of a belated bachelor and bachelorette party, but I don’t have any regrets coming here. With the wedding taking place right before the holidays, we haven’t been able to get together as a larger group. Plus, escaping Ohio’s January weather? You won’t find me complaining.

Conversation carries on around me, and for once, I’m not overthinking.

If the Dylan from months ago had come on this trip, I would have been using humor to hide the anxiety I felt over leaving work for an entire week. I would have been counting and checking and feeling shitty for trying to hide all that from my friends. But today? I’m not thinking of any of that. I’m staring at the woman sitting at the other end of the table.

Dee’s stunning in a bright blue dress. It’s light, and lacy, flowing loosely around her body. Everything about her screams relaxed and carefree. She leans back, throwing her head around in laughter as Abby tells a story.

My chest is light, and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and listening to the sound of waves crashing on the nearby beach. The humidity sticks to my skin, but I welcome the heat. The food smells fucking incredible and tastes even better.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I have to smother my annoyance at the interruption, but I glance at the notification anyway.

“Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath.

“What’s up? You good?” Dom asks, sitting to my right with Ellie on his other side.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my voice low. “That apartment we liked on High Street…it’s available. I can get the keys next week if I want them.”

“If you want them…” he says, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want them. This was the one within walking distance to the Bridge, right?”

I don’t have the energy to get into my depressing, uncertain future with the Bridge, so I nod.

This place was the best option when I toured apartments with Dom, but they weren’t supposed to have anything available for another three months.

My stomach sours, the delicious meal turning over uncomfortably as my thoughts begin to race.

Dee’s still laughing with the girls, absolutely radiant and beaming with joy, oblivious to the rock that just dropped onto my chest making it hard to breathe.

What will happen between us if I tell her I can move out? Are her feelings for me dependent on us being forced to spend all of our time together?Fuck, that’s a depressing thought. I don’tthink that’s what’s happening here. At least, it doesn’t feel like it. But what the fuck do I know? I’m not exactly a relationship expert here.

But Dom is a great husband. A real friend. And a solid dad. He’d have some wisdom to share, right?

“Something kind of…happened.” I keep my voice low, raising my eyebrows at Dom before glancing at Dee, hoping he gets the hint without me having to come out and say Dee and I are sleeping together.

He shakes his head, clearly still clueless. “Okay, that’s cryptic as fuck. What’s going on?”

I grind my teeth, glancing around to make sure no one is listening. “Dee and I…you know.”

His eyes open comically wide, and I bite my lips to keep from laughing. “Holy shit, Carissa is going to win the over-under.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, not important. Just…book club stuff I’m not supposed to talk about.”

“Well, now you have to fucking tell me.”

“Okay, but only because you twisted my arm,” he relents. I didn’t, but I’ll let him think that if he’ll tell me what he knows. “The girls made a bet on how long it would take you two to hook up after you two matched on that dating app. The one you used to set each other up on dates before the wedding.”

I fall back against the back of my chair, trying to make sense of it all. We matched on the app? Why didn’t Dee say anything?

That means she couldn’t have been as surprised by our attraction to each other as I originally thought. And the girls all seemed to sense that something was going on if they’re betting on us hooking up.

Does this help or hurt my case? This thing between us has to mean more than just some casual hookup to her too, right? Thiswould all be so much easier if we hadn’t been avoiding thewhat the fuck are we doingconversation.

“Now you have to fucking tell me what’s going on between you two.”

“Later,” I murmur.