Page 84 of Best Man Speaking

“Jules, trust didn’t have anything to do with it at the start.”

“Maybe. But what about now?”

Now, I’m still unworthy of the second chance I want.

“I’m not sure.” But my words are a lie.

There’s nothing I can say that doesn’t leave me screwed. I might want Hallie, but I’d gone into this agreement believing she wouldn’t want me again, not in any of the ways that mattered. I would’ve put money on it. And considering my current situation, I’m set to lose any way I look at it. As soon as I tell Hallie I’m in touch with her dad, regardless of my intentions, we’ll be done. Guilt churns even though she’s shut me down each time I’ve tried to bring up her dad.

“Will you tell Hallie you went after her once before?”

Julian’s question is one I don’t see coming, snapping me out of my thoughts. And I don’t move, don’t even breathe as I try to figure out just how he has that knowledge. I didn’t tell anyone my plans. Only…

“Oh, you think I didn’t know?” he asks, and I can’t work out how he feels about it as he dips an onion ring into ketchup.

“Erica?” I confirm, already knowing the answer.

I hadn’t asked her to keep it a secret from Jules when I’d called her for Hallie’s address, but I’d assumed she had when he never mentioned it.

“She told me you asked for her address, and you were going to Europe, after all—didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But then you came home more surly and dedicated to work than ever, and Hallie, well, nothing about her wasdifferent. It seemed like you’d decided that you weren’t the best fit after all.”

That trip to Scotland wasn’t something I’d thought about for a long time. On a stoop a few yards down from Hallie’s address, I’d waited for her to return home. Finally, I’d caught sight of her coming down the street, but she hadn’t been alone, and I’d been glad to have been sitting a few doors down. The guy she was with was tall—the build of a rugby player—with dark auburn hair. A long-haired border collie had been running through their legs with each step, and whatever he’d been saying had Hallie in peals of laughter, her blond hair blowing around her face. The joy in the sound filled up the otherwise quiet street, and I’d known I couldn’t be the one to cause the sound to stop. All in all, I’d spent less than a day in Edinburgh, getting the last flight of the night back to London. Talking about my glimpse of her life upon my return hadn’t been an option, and so I’d told Erica I’d decided against the visit altogether. Obviously, Jules knew me well enough to know that wouldn’t have been the case. That I wouldn’t have been able to help myself.

“I saw her from a distance, and she looked happy. I didn’t think intruding on that was the right move.”

The look my little brother gives me is humbling, like he understands something that’s still just out of my reach.

“You should tell her. She might be my best friend, but you’re my brother. I want you both to be happy. Tell Hallie the truth, and let her decide what’s next with all the facts.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hallie

Imight’ve technically been in Vegas for Erica and Julian, but I never would’ve known it. My brain is one hundred percent committed to thinking about Marcus, the way he touched me, and how I never wanted it to stop. As far as I’m concerned, I’m straight-up losing my mind.

The other two bridesmaids—Katie, Erica’s best friend from high school, and Rhianna, one of her ex-work colleagues—thankfully know each other. They’ve met a few times before, and I’m beyond grateful, as all the orgasm-induced dopamine is making my brain soft. I’d tried my best to be present during our spa day today, but I found myself relieved when it was time for my personal massage. It’d given me a solid hour where I could flip between daydreaming about last night and panicking about the days to come, about what it was going to be like to see Marcus again tonight.

Arriving at the restaurant first, we’re led over to a long, dark wood table set for eight. Erica and I take seats directly across from one another, each of us left with a spare seat besideus. Doing my best to tempt fate, I place my small rainbow-embroidered clutch on the chair beside me.

The waitress is only just pouring water into our glasses when Julian’s groomsmen, Graham and Matt, greet Erica, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a shoulder squeeze before moving to take seats across from Katie and Rhianna. I don’t have to wait long before a warm hand comes down on the back of my chair, a thumb stroking over the exposed skin of my upper back so quickly that I could’ve imagined it.

In the next moment, Marcus is looking down at me, a single brow raised.

“Hey, Hallie,” he says with a small smile. “You mind if I sit here?”

The words are the same ones he asked me just a few short weeks ago, and while my body still might be emitting a low-level hum in response to him, it’s no longer volatile. For all that we still have to work out between us, I want him next to me. I truly do.

“Not at all,” I reply, shooting him a heated look before reaching for my water.

Once again, he’s wearing a button-down shirt, the rolled-up sleeves exposing thick forearms, which only drags my attention to his hands. Hands I would very much like on me. Tonight, however, his shirt is a blue so light, in a linen so fine, it’s almost transparent.

I briefly consider the glass of water in my hands. What would happen if it accidentally slipped? Surely, the wet, transparent fabric would cling to him in all the best ways.

Marcus pulls out the chair beside me. When he notices my bag in his seat, a small flash of amusement lightens his features. But instead of giving it back to me or placing it on the floor, he simply holds the bright clutch while he sits, then puts itback down to rest on his lap beneath the table. It’s sweet and unexpected.

Leaning in close, he whispers in my ear, “I’m beginning to think you’re just saving seats for me now.” The rough tenor of his voice sends a pleasurable shiver along my skin. But it’s the truth of his words that causes my cheeks to heat. And the flush must be obvious as a quick grin finds his lips before he settles back in his chair.

Jules is the last to arrive, taking the seat directly across from Marcus, and I know I’m not imagining things when I see his eyes flick down to where our arms touch. The slight lift of his brows is the only way I know he’s caught the contact, but he doesn’t look my way, doesn’t acknowledge it at all. Regardless, my heart rate picks up a little, and I fight the urge to pull away.

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