Page 48 of Untruly With You

Through giggles, she says, “But did he tell you about how inlovewe were?”

“Cass,” Frankie warns, squeezing her eyes shut, “let’s leave all that in the past.”

Cassidy holds up her hands in a small surrender. “Whatever. I’m just saying, ifIwere Laine, I would want to know, especially because Sutton and I shared all our firsts. First kiss, first dance, first engagement.”

My throat tightens.

“That’s enough,” Frankie says, practically begging now.

“Well,almostengagement,” Cassidy clarifies. By the look on my face, she must understand that I, in fact, knew nothing about the engagement. I have no right to be jealous, but I feel that little green-eyed monster crawling up my back anyway. And he’s heavy.

“Sutton and I were in that young kind of love. But when he moved to New York for school, I knew it wouldn’t last much longer. We tried to make it work for a while. But whenDuke…you know…Sutton came home, and he was all wild and erratic.”

“Cassidy, please,” Frankie urges, eyes sharp with panic.

Ignoring Frankie, Cassidy continues. “Sutton got into thisha-ugefight with his dad in front of everyone and stormed off. When I found him, he asked me to marry him.”

My throat cinches tighter yet, as if being coiled by a snake. I rub it, coaxing oxygen to flow through again.

“I said no,” Cassidy says, looking proud. The Uber pulls to a stop outside of the bar.

I throw the car door open. After taking a few steps toward the bar, I backtrack. Unable to hold back, I duck my head down into the backseat just as Cassidy is shimmying out. “Was that before or after he found you messing around with his brother in his truck?”

Okay, now I can go. My hands tremble at my sides while I leave the other girls behind. Frankie hurries to catch up with me, looping her elbow around mine so we can walk in together.

“It’s fine,” I mutter before Frankie has to think of something to say.

Itshouldbe fine, considering the fact that Sutton and I aren’t even an actual couple.

The music is loud, the patrons are wild, and the lights are colorful. It’s exactly the kind of place I could see myself going on impulse, just to see what it’s about, and making the most of it no matter what. But now, this bar is just reminding me of dancing with Sutton at The Cowboy Cantina, which reminds me of the feeling of his arms tightening around me and that happy, almost hungry, look in his eyes.

Thankfully, there is a silver lining in the center of the room. And it’s mechanical.

Cassidy runs over to it immediately, and everyone steps aside to let her cut the line once they see her veil-toppedcowboy hat. She hops onto the mechanical bull with the confidence of someone who's had one—or four—too many drinks. The crowd cheers and hollers as the bull jolts alive. She keeps one hand on her hat and the other on the bull’s handle, laughing heartily through the spins.

I pull my phone out. All night, I’ve been resisting the urge to text Sutton, but I’m losing willpower with every drink that enters my system. And as much as I’d love to see Cassidy get thrown off the bull, talking to Sutton is even more tempting.

Did your stripper have ass-less chaps too?

Within seconds, three dots appear.

Couldn’t say. As soon as I heard the opening notes of “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” outside the door, I hid in the bathroom.

That could have been your soulmate.

Missed opportunity. But I do see this gorgeous girl at the bar we’re at. I think I’m going to make a move. Wish me luck.

My stomach sinks. Sutton is out charming some beautiful stranger while I'm here trying to keep up appearances at a bachelorette party I sincerely don’t want to be at.

I try to push the feeling aside, reminding myself that we're not truly together, and he's free to do whatever he wants.

Within seconds, though, I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me into a warm embrace.

“Miss me?” Sutton's voice murmurs in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I’m too drunk to worry about reining my grin in when I turn around to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Wells wanted to show us all how good he is at riding a bull. And though he insisted he wanted the real thing, I convinced him that this would be a suitable—and safer—alternative.”

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