Page 83 of Best Man Speaking

“Let me be more specific, then. What are you doing with Hallie?”

The question has me pulling up short, my stomach dropping.

“Excuse me?” I bite out as I turn back toward him.

“You heard me.”

“Well, I’m hoping I heard wrong.” I look a little closer, noticing the body language that’s slightly off, arms crossed, shoulders tense.

“Marcus, I’ve seen you.”

A kernel of panic blooms in my chest. I’ve been careful. We’ve been so incredibly careful, specifically around Jules. While I might not care for the rules Hallie and I had imposed upon ourselves, I’m not looking for either of us to be uninvited from my brother’s wedding.

“What do you think you’ve seen?” I run an overly warm hand through my hair, knowing my chances of being able to talk myself out of this are slim.

Jules had asked me to do one simple thing, and I’ve not been able to follow through—and have lied to him in the process. It seems I’m forever going to make the same mistakes.

Julian rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with my evasiveness. “You mean, did I see you with your tongue down Hallie’s throat on the plane? Yes. Actually, I did.”

Well, shit.

He shakes his head, stepping away from his door. “I thought I told you not to do this, not to scare her away.”

“Hallie’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you or anyone else to pick which battles she wants to fight in her life, relationships, or otherwise.”

Julian’s stance changes then, his shoulders relaxing just a little. “Relationships? So this isn’t just a one-off, then?”

I decide then it’s time to drop the shit, at least with Jules. “Can this be off the record? I’m not about to run my mouth and then have you tell me I can’t attend your wedding.”

His smile is sly. “You’re asking for sibling privileges?”

“Always.”

Jules rolls his eyes, but his overly dramatic sigh lets me know I’ve got my brother listening. “Fine. But can I eat while you talk?”

“Go for it,” I answer, gesturing to one of the bags of chips. But Jules ducks into his room, and I follow him in, only to find the asshole has ordered himself a small feast. On a table in line with his bed is a burger, with separate baskets of fries, onion rings, and tater tots.

The smell is grease-laden and divine.

“Sure you got enough?” I ask, dragging the chair from the room’s desk and sitting my ass on it.

“I’m sure it’s not my eating habits that are the topic of conversation here,” he says, picking up his burger and nodding at me tocarry on. Well, all right, then.

“Hallie and I slept together,” I start bluntly, even as his face morphs into ano shitexpression. “Fine. Have been sleeping together, and it’s not to fuck with her. It started out as a kiss, and then…” I pause, my eyes narrowing. “Hold on. Why am I hearing about you seeing us kiss just now? Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

“I’d hoped it might’ve been a one-off, the two of you on the plane, but when you disappeared this evening, I figured this was more than a kiss.”

And he isn’t wrong; it’s more than just a kiss. It’s beginning to be the most complicated kiss.

I scrub a hand down my face, suddenly exhausted with it all. “I don’t want her to leave again.”

Something like surprise flitters across his face, softening his features. “You’re on the same page, then? You’ve been completely honest with her?”

I’m unable to stop the grimace from appearing on my face. “Not exactly.”

Whatever ease Julian had been feeling disappears as quickly as it’d arrived. “I don’t believe Hallie would’ve been okay with any part of her body touching yours if she didn’t trust you.”

I think back to our first kiss, how it’d consumed us in an instant, our bodies melding together, the disdain for one another forgotten. Or maybe our dislike made it hotter.

---