Page 100 of Best Man Speaking

The knocking stops, and as I pull on my bathrobe, my gratefulness knows no bounds.

Making my way across the living space, I can very easily see who’s waiting for me through the large glass doors. The fact I can see a single thing through my ridiculously cried-out, crusty-ass eyes keeps me humble and in awe of the human body.

“Coffee?” Julian asks, holding out a baby pink cup in my direction after I open the door.

I narrow my eyes on him, but I nod, taking the caffeine.

Heading to the couch, I curl up in one corner, caring very little about my appearance or if Julian decides to follow me intothe room. I remind myself that he’s likely here because he loves me, and I opened the door without yelling because I love him too. I don’t, however, love him enough to tell him I accepted the offer Marcus put on my gran’s house. Decisions made in anger and all.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask, attempting to get a read on just how much he knows.

He takes a seat a few cushions down, his own cup still nestled between his palms.

“Marcus called. Said he’d messed up big-time.”

“That’s true, but you didn’t have to come.”

A look of guilt flashes across his features. “I did.”

“Well. You didn’t have to knock.” I’m ungrateful in my heartache.

He slips me a quick grin. “Hallie, I know you well enough to know there wasn’t a single chance you’d be answering your phone.”

I ignore him, pulling a velvety-soft blue cushion onto my lap. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

I’m positive that while it might be morning, it’s not nearly before school early. But Jules is dressed down in washed-out jeans and a dark gray T-shirt. This is not his Mr. Scott teaching attire.

He shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “I thought it was about time I took a sick day.”

“You’re playing hooky?” I demure, eyes wide, a single hand pressed against my chest. “For me?”

The man had never played hooky in his life, but Julian does nothing but roll his eyes, not rising to my bait.

“I thought you were a good enough reason to take the day off.”

I’m grateful for his generosity but hate that he thought it was needed. This whole week should be one of steady, risingexcitement for him and Erica, and I wasn’t about to let my poor life choices get in the way of that.

Speaking of which. “I’m surprised Erica isn’t here with you.”

He smiles, a single dimple showing up on his right cheek. “It took a lot to get her to go to work. She loves you.”

“Well, I think you should let her play hooky today too. The two of you could sneak off and have a romantic time together. Go to the beach. Have a picnic. Build a pillow fort and binge-watch movies. You could watch all theLord of the Ringsfilms in one go.”

They all sound like excellent suggestions to my ears, and with the best friends occupied, I’d be free to lock the doors and lick my wounds. It’d give me the little bit of time I needed to be the Hallie they deserve this weekend for their wedding.

Their wedding in which I’m the maid of honor and Marcus is the best man. My heart, bruised and battered inside my chest, gives a pathetic thump at the thought. That’s if our stupidity and the breaking of Jules’s rules hadn’t lost us our titles.

Holy hell. Maybe I won’t be the maid of honor for much longer. Who could blame either of them for wanting us out of the way on their big day?

Julian clears his throat. “I came up with the truce for a reason, you know,” he says, reading my mind. Thankfully, the words are kind, even if the “I told you so” is implied.

“It wasn’t the worst idea,” I respond evenly, attempting to bury my feelings. “We needed something to keep us from committing grievous bodily harm.”

I pull my cushion a little more tightly into my chest.

“And now?”

Isn’t that just the question of the day?

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