Hands that feel all wrong coast up my chest. I grab her wrists and ease her back. “No. I’m getting you a cab and sending you home. I’m sorry, but this isn’t working out.”
Her face drops.
I scrape a hand over the back of my neck. “Look, this is myfault. It was a mistake to invite you here tonight and I truly am sorry.”
Her gaze zeros in on me like a sniper taking aim. I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or punch me in the face. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” I say.
“So, you’re gonna take her word over mine?”
“Depends. What’s your word, Alexis?” I lean against the wall, hands sliding into my pockets. Her word means nothing, tonight alone has made that clear, but I am curious to see how she tries to spin this.
She tilts her head to one side. “That Gretchen is weak,” she starts. “That she only has herself to blame for every guy that thought they wanted her and chose me instead. You want to pick her over me? Be my guest. Good luck trying to get lucky with that one.”
I laugh without an ounce of humor. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong.” The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby and I push off the wall. “Any guy that girl gives the time of day should consider himself the luckiest guy in the world.”
Alexis stomps past me and I follow her all the way out the door. I don’t stop until she’s in a cab, brake lights flashing as she drives away.
I turn to face the hotel, eyes panning up the many floors that climb endlessly into the night sky. Gretchen’s up there somewhere. Hurt. Disappointed.Mistaken.
She needs to understand I’m not interested in Alexis—it’s the bare minimum of what I have to explain to fix this. But it doesn’t address what got me in this mess in the first place—that I want my best friend’s little sister. That I never stop thinking about her. That I think I’m in love with her.
I weave through the lobby toward the elevator as Drew’s words from last night and three years ago echo through my mind. Only, they weren’t just words—they were warnings.
For a moment, I let myself imagine what could happen if I sayto hell with Drewand go after everything I want with Gretchen. Hecould cut me out. He could cut her out too. Maybe with time he could make peace with it. But what if he can’t? Gretchen and Alexis were best friends and one person’s betrayal irrevocably mangled that relationship. Drew could see what I’ve done—the feelings, the secrets kept, the year worth of texts and phone calls—and think it the same thing. A betrayal.
The air inside the elevator is stale, suffocating. I undo my bow tie and release a few buttons on my shirt. Even as the doors open to the ballroom floor, I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
Gretchen is my friend as much as Drew is. How do I navigate this without losing one of them? Or worse, both.
Back inside the ballroom, the music thrums, feeding off the packed dance floor. I scan the dimly lit space for the girl with the midnight hair, matching black dress and heart of gold that makes my knees go weak, but I can’t find her anywhere. I step back outside the ballroom to the place I last saw her and spot an exterior door on the far wall.
Through the doors, I come to a terrace. And there, off to my right, at the far corner of the balcony, stands Gretchen. Back to me, that black dress sweeps low, down to the soft skin at the lowest part of her spine. Back fully exposed, her hair hangs in long waves, wisps blowing in the wind. The satin molds to every curve from shoulder to upper thigh before flowing loosely to the ground, fabric fluttering in the breeze.
She turns as she hears my steps, eyes flashing with surprise. “You came back.”
“I sent Alexis home.”
“Oh,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry, but I was eavesdropping on your conversation earlier. And I need you to understand something.” I close half the distance between us. “I don’t like Alexis. I don’t want Alexis. I never should have asked her to come here and I would never choose her over you.”
She averts her gaze. “But you did choose her. Last night I thought that—” She sucks in a breath. Her hand tightens aroundthe stone railing with a white knuckled grip. “Why did you ask her to come?”
“Because I’m an idiot and I’m sorry,” I plead.
“You never told me you met someone.”
“I didn’t. She was just a bartender at one of the bars from your brother’s bachelor party.”
“But you got her number.”
“She put it in my phone. I didn’t ask for it.”
Confusion splits her face. “But youdidask her to be your date.”
A rush of air escapes my lungs and I shrug. She turns to look out over the city.
