Текст книги "I Do"
Автор книги: A. J. Pine
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Chapter Eleven
Griffin
Griffin sipped his champagne, which was tough because he wanted to drain his glass in one long gulp. Bullshit artist or not, he could have gotten them all in deeper trouble by trying to impersonate a litigator or whatever he was doing, yet somehow here they were.
Duncan leaned across the aisle and clinked his glass with Griffin’s, then reached around to the seat in front of him and did the same with Noah. Then he threw back his bubbly like it was a shot of whisky.
“I thought you said you had a concussion,” Griffin said. “Should you be, you know, drinking?”
Duncan waved a hand. “Possible concussion. I’d have to go to hospital to confirm, but”—he shook his empty champagne flute—“I’m feeling quite excellent right now. And, mates—that was simply brilliant. I mean, fucking brilliant.”
Noah turned in his seat to face them.
“Which part? Us barging in on that bullshit episode of Law and Order and helping you figure out your shit, or Reed snagging us a free upgrade to first class with his threat of litigation?”
“All of it,” Duncan said. “The whole bloody day—well, since you two arrived. It was absolute shite before that, but now?” He raised his glass as a flight attendant walked by to offer him a refill. “Aye. This is how a day should begin for a man about to get married. It’s all gonna work out, lads. I can feel it.”
Duncan’s smile fell.
“Then why aren’t you smiling anymore?” Noah asked.
Duncan sighed. “Because maybe I don’t feel it, but I’m trying to convince myself I do. I know Elaina loves me, but I think she’s been waiting for me to grow up, to not be the guy who wakes up on the grass outside his flat because he was too drunk to find his key.”
“That’s not what happened today,” Griffin said.
“Aye. But isn’t this some version of it? Duncan McAllister getting himself into a right mess? I don’t want to be a mess she has to clean up.”
“You’re not a mess,” Griffin told him. “You’re the guy who not only got the girl but got the girl’s father to trust you enough to give you a really great job. Everything’s fine now,” he assured his friend, hoping he was telling the truth. “But you could have used my phone when I texted Maggie.”
Duncan scrubbed a hand over his face, his fingers stopping to rest on the growing bruise beneath his eye. Then he shook his head.
“You told her I’m all right, yeah? That I’m on my way? I need to do the rest in person, face-to-face. Today was important,” he said. “Almost more so than the wedding, what with our families meeting for the first time.” Duncan laughed, but this wasn’t the typical merriment Griffin remembered of his friend. This laugh sounded bitter, a harshness to Duncan’s tone he hadn’t heard before.
“Hey, man. She loves you. She said yes to marrying you. And today? Today wasn’t your fault.”
Duncan shrugged. “Wasn’t it, though? I waited till the last minute for the tartan, got on the latest possible plane I could so I could stay in Aberdeen a bit longer. One day earlier, and this wouldn’t have happened.”
Noah shook his head. “You don’t know that. There could have been a bigger asshole on yesterday’s flight.” All three of them chuckled, and Griffin could feel this interaction getting into dangerously emotional territory. “The way I see it,” Noah added, “is that we’re all fucking clueless. There’s no rule book or manual for any of this. Best we can do is make up for the times we mess up by getting the big things right.”
Duncan relaxed into his seat.
“Elaina, she’ll be mad, aye,” he told them. “She’ll be mad, but if I get it all right from here on out, you’re saying that will make up for it?”
Noah nodded.
Griffin wasn’t so sure—not about Duncan, but about how each day he lied to Maggie, he was making a bigger and bigger mess. He swirled the pale gold liquid in his glass. He should be proud of what he’d done—getting them all on the flight back to Thessaloniki, with upgrades. But all it did was remind him that he’d been playing a part. Putting on a show. And he realized that’s exactly what he was doing with Maggie. He could use her migraine as the excuse for not immediately thrusting the envelope in her face, but what about all those hours on the plane he had her undivided attention? He needed to say something, to get this off his chest and out into the open before it was too late.
“Oi, Griffin?” Duncan roused him from his thoughts. “My lad Noah says Elaina’s going to forgive me. You’re supposed to be helping me celebrate.”
Griffin set the flute down and looked at Duncan, all his bravado for their Athens adventure having melted away.
“Maggie—she’s okay, yeah?” Duncan asked.
Griffin nodded. “So this is, like, the sharing hour now?”
Duncan didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes and waited.
“Fine,” he said. Maybe he could stand to get a little advice from his friends. “I took a shot in the dark and won a fellowship with AmeriCorps, the place I work for now. It’s extremely competitive, and I wasn’t expecting to get it. I just wanted to see if I could, you know?” Both Duncan and Noah nodded. “But I got it. And now that it’s mine, I want it. But if I accept, I have to move to D.C. for a year this fall.”
Okay, so maybe he was supposed to say all of that to Maggie, but what the hell? A guy could only take so much, and even if this didn’t solve his problem, it felt good to say out loud, to admit that he wanted this.
Duncan emptied his glass again. “See! This day is back on track. Good things for everyone!”
He clapped Griffin on the shoulder, but Griffin shook his head.
“Maggie doesn’t know,” he said.
“Why not?” Noah asked.
He took in a measured breath. It wasn’t his place to tell them about Maggie’s medical past, even if she survived a brain aneurysm and the surgery to remove it. God, she really was the strongest person he knew, so why couldn’t he say to her what he just said to them?
“I don’t know,” he admitted, throwing his head back against his seat. Then he groaned. “Shit. I’m ruining your moment, Duncan. We’re celebrating your freedom, right? I’m sorry, man. Maybe Keating has more wisdom to lighten the mood.”
Noah averted his eyes and cleared his throat. Well shit, Keating was hiding something, too.
“Out with it,” Duncan said, nudging Noah’s shoulder. “We’re all getting in touch with our feelings, Keating. Your turn.”
Noah pulled his messenger bag out from under the seat in front of him. He reached inside an inner pocket and retrieved a small velvet box.
“Well, bloody fucking hell,” Duncan said under his breath.
A tiny weight lifted off Griffin’s chest. He realized in his unfortunate encounter with him on their last flight how much Noah was willing to sacrifice for Jordan. He’d already let go of any mistrust he had for the guy. But this? This confirmed what an ass Griffin had been to ever doubt how much Noah cared for his friend, and for the first time since he’d left Maggie in Thessaloniki, he’d smiled and meant it. No pretense. No show. He was just damned happy for Jordan—and for Noah, too.
“Congratulations,” he said, raising his glass.
“She still has to say yes,” Noah said, but he raised his flute as well.
“Mates, we have turned this shite day around. Jordan is going to say yes. You and Maggie are going to figure out this fellowship thing, and Elaina is going to marry me—after she forgives me, of course.”
If Duncan could turn a day like today around, then Griffin could get over whatever the hell was holding him back. He wasn’t the guy he was before he met Maggie. He was the version of himself she made him want to be. And that meant laying all his cards on the table no matter what the outcome—even if one possible outcome could destroy him. He owed her his best self.
“Slainte,” Griffin said.
“Slainte,” Noah and Duncan repeated in unison.
And they drank to the women who would hopefully say yes; who would forgive and say I do; who would understand the paralysis of fear and still believe that chasing a dream meant nothing if it meant doing it without her.
Griffin thought about his first date with Maggie and their repurposing of UNO cards into a Truth or Dare kind of game—minus the dare. A WILD card meant the bearer could ask the other anything he or she wanted, big or small, and the question had to be answered with the complete and utter truth.
But Maggie shouldn’t have to draw a card to get that from him. He needed to trust her, to offer it willingly, to give her everything.
Not just the WILD card. Griffin was going full deck. All in.
Chapter Twelve
Miles
“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Maggie asked, and Miles made an exaggerated effort to examine his neatly trimmed fingernails.
“Manis and pedis, Mags? I mean, I am well-groomed, but I draw the line at spending money for someone else to do what I can do for myself.”
She shrugged. “I’m just flattered the bridal party invited me along. Plus, it’s Elaina’s cousin, so it won’t cost much.”
“So there’s still going to be a wedding?” he asked as Jordan strode up behind Maggie.
“I don’t know,” Jordan said. “Elaina is pissed. I told her the guys found Duncan and are bringing him back. Noah said he wasn’t ditching her, that he’d actually been hurt and detained and was afraid to tell her about it in a text. They were rushing to get their flights figured out. But no matter what I say to her, she just gets angrier.”
“Why?” Maggie asked.
“Because Duncan called Griffin instead of her. Look, all I know is she’s going through with everything that was on the docket for today. And if Duncan shows up…I mean when he shows up…” Jordan hesitated, winding a lock of hair around her finger until the tip turned white.
“Whoa,” Miles started, watching Jordan fidget where she stood. “I’m sensing I’m about to get more drama than I bargained for.”
Maggie backhanded him on the shoulder.
“What?” he said with a laugh. “I’m just glad the spotlight’s off of me.”
“It’s okay,” Jordan said. “He’s right. I am being a little dramatic. It’s just…Duncan and Elaina? They’re the ones who got it right from the start, you know? Zero drama. He liked her. She pretended for maybe five minutes not to like him, and then bam. Perfect couple. And now?” She shrugged. “They’re going to be fine, right? If he was never thinking of bailing, then they’re still the model couple.”
Miles nodded to Maggie, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. “This is why I keep my distance, Mags.” Then he turned to Jordan. “Look, I’m sorry if I seem like an insensitive asshole, but I’m good without the whole mani-pedi thing, and I’m good without”—he waved his hand in the air—“the drama of will they or won’t they.”
Miles kissed Maggie on the cheek and backed toward the rear of the restaurant.
“I’m gonna go walk on the beach.” Clear my head.
Maggie glanced out the window and then back at him. “It’s not as warm as it looks out there. I think the taxi driver said it was just below forty degrees.”
Miles zipped his black leather jacket over his hoodie, then winked at her and grinned.
“I know people who’ve hitchhiked in worse.”
She rolled her eyes, and that was enough to convince him she wouldn’t push him to share what the hell was up his ass—because, honestly, he wasn’t 100 percent sure. He was just…off.
So what if somewhere in this city was a guy who’d driven him crazy in an airplane bathroom? Somewhere in this city—right. Like Miles had the city to hide him. Come this evening, Alex would probably be working the party. What were the odds that a restaurant’s sous chef was not working the owner’s own daughter’s wedding? When he’d walked into that bathroom with a stranger, he expected to part just the same. But something happened in that confined space, in that miniature pocket of time, and it wasn’t about the foreplay that almost was.
He watched as Jordan pulled Maggie toward the group of women who were converting part of the restaurant into a miniature salon. Then he exited to what was, for the season, an unused patio.
The wind was brisk, but the cold air felt good. It felt like freedom.
He threw up his hood and headed toward the water.
He breathed in the salty air, making it close enough to the shore for a fine mist to spray his cheeks.
“You are a grade-A asshole,” he told himself. But that? He glanced back toward the restaurant. That was why he was no good at weddings. Watching two people pledge their lives to each other made him long for something he’d convinced himself a long time ago wasn’t in the cards for him. And watching an almost-couple like Duncan and Elaina almost not make it? All it did was remind him that wanting something and holding onto it were mutually exclusive. He’d experienced that firsthand. So he taught himself not to want anything more than fun, and that was working out pretty well for him. Did he want Duncan and Elaina to crash and burn? Of course not. Did he see that as more of a possibility than Maggie and Jordan did? Sure. But he didn’t need to spread his jadedness all over their hope for a happy ending.
After a few deep breaths, he turned to walk a stretch of the hotel-lined beach. Short white buildings bordered the sand, and even in the cool weather there were tourists enjoying coffee on a balcony and a couple a few yards off removing their shoes to dip their toes in the surf.
He jumped back as a wave rolled in, coming closer than the rest. Then he laughed at himself for being afraid of the consequences of making contact with the water. What did that say about his emotional state? He could write his doctoral thesis analyzing it, but with only five months to go in his program, it probably wasn’t wise to change topics now.
He checked his phone. There were a few hours before he had to get ready for the rehearsal dinner—provided it was still happening. He’d run inside and make sure Maggie was cool with him taking off for a bit, and then? He’d just walk.
As he started to hike back up to the patio, he spotted a figure leaning against the restaurant’s concrete ivory facade. The guy stood with one leg crossed over the other and his arms folded in front of his chest. After nodding in Miles’s direction, the man took a drag from the cigarette dangling from his lips and then reached for it with his right hand. He waited to speak until Miles was in earshot.
“Did you know?” Alex asked, an almost-smile playing at his lips. “You weren’t surprised when I told you my name in the airport. Did you know who I was?”
Miles played with the idea of a lie, but that wasn’t him. No matter what came of this situation, he was nothing if not upfront.
He retrieved Alex’s business card from his pocket and held it up for him to see.
Alex nodded slowly. “So why not tell me? You sat there the rest of the flight pretending you didn’t know this might happen.”
That was a legitimate question. But what was he going to do? Tell this stranger that kissing him in an airplane bathroom felt anything but strange? That he’d let his guard down long enough to wonder what it would be like to kiss this man again only because he’d thought he was safe from that ever happening. And now here he was, staring at those lips again, wanting what he shouldn’t want.
“It’s complicated,” was all he said, and he rolled his eyes at himself. God, he hated that word, hated that he’d become the kind of guy who used it as an excuse to shut down.
Alex took a long, slow drag of the cigarette, then turned his head to the side to exhale.
“We were on a fucking plane, Miles. Strangers on a goddamned plane. We could have had a nice chat about what I do, about how you know the Tripoli family. It’s just talking,” Alex said. “You sat there the whole time knowing who I was, knowing my name…”
Miles studied his own shoes before looking at him again.
“I know,” he said. “I’m just– I liked you. I like you now. And I don’t want to.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Liking a stranger is one thing. We meet. We make out. We never see each other again. And I may wonder, What if? But there’s nothing I can do about it. But knowing your name and that I might bump into you again? That changed the game.”
That almost-smile that threatened to undo Miles on the spot disappeared completely.
“I’m not playing a game, Miles.” Alex shook his head. “You’re a piece of work,” he added. “So sorry for your predicament.”
Jesus, he was doing this all wrong. But something about this guy made him do ridiculous things like say exactly what he was thinking and want to press him up against the building and kiss him again.
Alex straightened, took another drag, and then pushed off the wall.
“Vlakas,” he said. “You knew we’d see each other. We could have made a fun weekend of it, no expectations. But since things are so complicated, I’ll leave you to your brooding on the beach. I’ve met enough guys like you, Miles. I don’t need complicated, either.” Alex strode off around the side of the building.
Miles wasn’t the type to chase after anyone. But he found himself following Alex, telling himself it was for no other reason than to clear the air, if only to avoid Alex sneezing in his soup later that night. It had nothing to do with those lips, the ones he could still taste if he closed his eyes.
“Hey, Alex. Wait a minute. I didn’t mean I was playing games with you.”
Alex extinguished the cigarette on the side of the building and tossed it in one of the many trash bins that hid behind a short wall next to a door.
“Are you here to complicate things?” Alex asked, shaking his head as his lips parted in a smile. Then he laughed, a genuine laugh, and for a second Miles forgot what he came here to say. All he wanted was that smile to stay right where it was and for those full lips to take his again.
Fucking focus, Miles.
“No,” he said. “Maybe. I don’t know what vlakas means, but I’m sure I deserved it. I guess I just wanted to say that I’m usually much better at not being complicated.”
“I don’t know you,” Alex started. “I don’t know what you deserve. Vlakas—stupid—that was for me.” He paused. “Because I liked you, too.” He ran a hand through his thick, sandy hair, and Miles clenched his fists at his sides, willing them not to relive the feeling of those locks against his own skin.
Seriously, Miles. Do not let one stranger throw you off your game. Not that it’s a game. Shit. He was already in over his head, which was brand-new territory, considering how safe he’d been playing it for years.
“It’s not as if I asked you to marry me in an airplane toilet.”
Miles chuckled. He didn’t mean to, but the thought made him wonder how many proposals did happen in such a location.
“I know,” Miles said. “But—”
Alex shook his head, cutting him off. “Or move in with me,” he added. “What gives you the right to think I expected any more from what happened than you did?”
Okay, Miles thought. Now you’re a grade-A asshole. Because Alex was right. He hadn’t asked Miles for anything other than a few minutes of fun. Miles hadn’t withheld the truth about knowing who he was because of Alex’s expectations. He’d done it because he was terrified of his own.
“Why don’t you have an accent?” he asked.
“What?” Alex’s dark brows pulled together, and Miles took small pleasure in catching him off guard.
“I could tell you weren’t American,” he said. “But your accent is so slight, I wasn’t sure you were Greek until you translated for that woman on the plane.”
Alex pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door next to him, pausing in the frame before stepping into what Miles could see was the restaurant’s kitchen.
Miles stepped inside after him.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked, the corners of his mouth curling up again.
Miles shrugged. “I’m not expecting a proposal—or for you to ask me to move in with you. But it seems a shame for us to profess our like for each other and then walk away.”
Alex nodded and backed farther into the kitchen.
“My father is Greek, my mother American. They never married. He lives here, and she lives in New York. After spending my summers in the U.S., I decided to stay for university. Hence the accent—or lack thereof.”
Alex took one more step back, then turned and walked farther into the building. He left the door open.
This was an invitation. For what, though? Miles wasn’t about to ask. He wasn’t going to overthink. He was just going to accept.
He turned back to the door and pulled it closed behind him.
