Megan. Control.
“Yes,” he said. “I look boss in a suit.”
I was not going to picture it. I was not. “Bring a suit plus a second outfit of shirt and dress pants,” I said, “in case there are any pre-wedding things to go to.” I stared at his bruised cheek, assessing. “That should be healed by the time we get there. If it isn’t, I’ll put makeup on it. You could get a haircut if you have time, though your hair isn’t bad.” His hair was fucking gorgeous, dark and tousled and sexy. “You don’t have to do much, just stick close to me and be charming and pretend we’re dating. And that things are great.”
He scratched his nose, frowning. “Can I ask something? Why are you going to so much trouble for an ex-boyfriend? I mean, why is he such a big deal?”
I detected a distinct note of male envy in that, and I savored it like chocolate on my tongue. Then I said, “It isn’t just the ex-boyfriend that’s important.” I explained to him about Stephanie and Kyle, and how things had happened, and how Stephanie was from my mother’s side of the family. I left out the part about Kyle being my first, because I was not giving Jason Carsleigh that particular tidbit.
“Okay,” he said when I finished. “I get it. So it’s more about your mother’s family than this guy.”
“Mostly, but the guy is part of it,” I admitted. “It’s sort of this shitty mix. I can’t just not go. I mean, would you want to look like a loser at Charlotte’s wedding?”
Jason groaned. “Man, there is no way I’d go to Charlotte’s wedding,” he said. “Just no way.”
I spent far, far too much mental energy in the next minute trying to parse that. Did he mean that he’d been so in love with her that it would be too painful to go to her wedding? Or did he mean that he was so happily rid of her that he never wanted to see her again? I’d barely ever seen them together—he’d been deployed for most of the time they’d been together, and they’d broken up shortly after Holly and I became friends—but physically, Jason and Charlotte together were… perfect. She was tall, willowy, and blonde, and he was tall, muscular, and dark. She had no flaws that I was aware of. He’d likely never ground her into the grass in a public park. They’d probably made perfect love on perfumed beds, covered in rose petals and surrounded by candles while someone played the harp nearby.
I didn’t want to picture that. At all.
He’d probably been gone on her. Any guy would be.
I put my fork down, the topic of Jason and Charlotte in bed making my stomach turn, which in turn made me angry. Why the hell did I care about it, even a little? Why couldn’t I just be over this guy already?
Jason was watching me, his dark eyes missing nothing, and for a moment the air was heavy between us. “Okay,” he said finally. “Suit, dress pants, haircut, drive to Cape Cod, don’t look like a Fight Club extra, try and be nice. When do we leave?”
“A week from Thursday,” I said, pushing my plate away. “The wedding’s on Saturday.” I glanced out the window. “Shit, it’s still raining, and I have to drive to my appointment. I have to go.”
He was still watching me, and I didn’t like the perceptiveness in the way he looked at me. “It sounds important.”
I shrugged, the motion tight. “It’s just a thing.”
“A thing you had to get off work for.” He scratched his chin. “You want me to come?”
For a second I stared at him, surprised into silence. Then the words came out, sharper than I intended, because I was in a spin and I didn’t know what to say. “Why would I want that?”
His expression closed down slowly. “Well, I have some free time, and you look upset. Jesus. I can be nice, you know.”
“No,” I said, reaching into my jeans pocket and pulling out some money. “I do not need you to come with me. I don’t need you to do anything except pick me up on Thursday morning so I can go to the wedding
“Yes,” he said. “I look boss in a suit.”
I was not going to picture it. I was not. “Bring a suit plus a second outfit of shirt and dress pants,” I said, “in case there are any pre-wedding things to go to.” I stared at his bruised cheek, assessing. “That should be healed by the time we get there. If it isn’t, I’ll put makeup on it. You could get a haircut if you have time, though your hair isn’t bad.” His hair was fucking gorgeous, dark and tousled and sexy. “You don’t have to do much, just stick close to me and be charming and pretend we’re dating. And that things are great.”
He scratched his nose, frowning. “Can I ask something? Why are you going to so much trouble for an ex-boyfriend? I mean, why is he such a big deal?”
I detected a distinct note of male envy in that, and I savored it like chocolate on my tongue. Then I said, “It isn’t just the ex-boyfriend that’s important.” I explained to him about Stephanie and Kyle, and how things had happened, and how Stephanie was from my mother’s side of the family. I left out the part about Kyle being my first, because I was not giving Jason Carsleigh that particular tidbit.
“Okay,” he said when I finished. “I get it. So it’s more about your mother’s family than this guy.”
“Mostly, but the guy is part of it,” I admitted. “It’s sort of this shitty mix. I can’t just not go. I mean, would you want to look like a loser at Charlotte’s wedding?”
Jason groaned. “Man, there is no way I’d go to Charlotte’s wedding,” he said. “Just no way.”
I spent far, far too much mental energy in the next minute trying to parse that. Did he mean that he’d been so in love with her that it would be too painful to go to her wedding? Or did he mean that he was so happily rid of her that he never wanted to see her again? I’d barely ever seen them together—he’d been deployed for most of the time they’d been together, and they’d broken up shortly after Holly and I became friends—but physically, Jason and Charlotte together were… perfect. She was tall, willowy, and blonde, and he was tall, muscular, and dark. She had no flaws that I was aware of. He’d likely never ground her into the grass in a public park. They’d probably made perfect love on perfumed beds, covered in rose petals and surrounded by candles while someone played the harp nearby.
I didn’t want to picture that. At all.
He’d probably been gone on her. Any guy would be.
I put my fork down, the topic of Jason and Charlotte in bed making my stomach turn, which in turn made me angry. Why the hell did I care about it, even a little? Why couldn’t I just be over this guy already?
Jason was watching me, his dark eyes missing nothing, and for a moment the air was heavy between us. “Okay,” he said finally. “Suit, dress pants, haircut, drive to Cape Cod, don’t look like a Fight Club extra, try and be nice. When do we leave?”
“A week from Thursday,” I said, pushing my plate away. “The wedding’s on Saturday.” I glanced out the window. “Shit, it’s still raining, and I have to drive to my appointment. I have to go.”
He was still watching me, and I didn’t like the perceptiveness in the way he looked at me. “It sounds important.”
I shrugged, the motion tight. “It’s just a thing.”
“A thing you had to get off work for.” He scratched his chin. “You want me to come?”
For a second I stared at him, surprised into silence. Then the words came out, sharper than I intended, because I was in a spin and I didn’t know what to say. “Why would I want that?”
His expression closed down slowly. “Well, I have some free time, and you look upset. Jesus. I can be nice, you know.”
“No,” I said, reaching into my jeans pocket and pulling out some money. “I do not need you to come with me. I don’t need you to do anything except pick me up on Thursday morning so I can go to the wedding
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