Page 19 of Mr. Swoony

“There didn’t have to be a wedding. I wasn’t the one who got on bended knee, or was it your father demanding you marry me to make you a company man?”

He alluded to that once when he was drunk, and when I asked about it the next morning, he said he didn’t remember or know what I was talking about.

“Damn, baby, you’ve been different since Saturday. Did the bachelorette party really go that badly?”

I stare at him, but he’s too busy pulling his phone out of his pocket to notice. “I told you about my night. Penelope was drunk. The drink I had poured on me.”

He laughs and drops his phone on the table, exchanging it for his beer. “Oh, yeah, how much did that QR code make us? Will it cover the liquor cost for the wedding?” His head rocks back in laughter. “Fucking Penelope.”

“She did what she could in the small amount of time she had.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ashley told Merrick the whole night was a mess.”

I hope Ashley didn’t tell Merrick about Conor because I don’t want to explain anything about him. I’m not even sure I could if I wanted to. I’m still confused about everything.

“It was fine. Wait here, I want to show you something.” I stand from the chair to head inside, wanting to change the subject.

“Not another wedding question. I’m tapped out, baby. Just call my mom.”

“It’s not wedding related.”

I head through the French doors and grab my list out of my purse. He’s back on his phone when I return, and I take a moment to watch him from behind. Tristan is attractive. He’s tall and lean but muscular. He’s always put together and turns a lot of eyes when we’re out. But he’s different than Conor. Where Conor holds a cockiness in his stance, Tristan is more arrogant. Although Conor is way more well-known in the world, Tristan thinks everyone should know who he is when he walks into a room.

Jesus, what am I doing comparing the two? This is madness.

I stop by the side of his chair. “Is this seat taken?” I ask, eyeing his lap.

He mindlessly wraps his arm around my waist but still concentrates on his phone.

“Tristan?”

He shuts off the screen and tosses the phone on the table again. “Sorry, work thing.”

Does he think I can’t tell it’s his friend group chat?

He lowers his feet to the ground, and I sit on his lap.

“So, I have something I want to share with you, and I was hoping tonight… well.” I open the sheet of paper.

“This is cryptic. Are you about to tell me some secret about yourself?”

I ignore him because I’m so scared to show him my list, and I don’t know why, except that Tristan likes to poke fun at my expense quite often. “When I was twenty-five, Jade and I wrote these lists on a girls’ trip.”

“Oh, this should be good.” He laughs, but it’s not a good-natured one. In fact, it comes off as patronizing.

“It’s a bucket list. Of things I wanted to do before I turned thirty.” I hold out the paper to him and bite my lip, waiting for his reaction. I watch him read it over, my heart beating faster with each second.

“You want to smoke a cigarette?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Adopt a puppy? You know I’m allergic, so that’s never happening.” He frowns.

“I want to cross some of these off. What do you think?”

“I think you turn thirty in November, so it’s not going to happen. I’m good, but I’m not a magician. There’s not enough fairy dust to get this done.”

I take the list back, and he willingly gives it up. “I’m not asking for all of them to be done, but I think it would be fun to do a couple. Like, we could get tattoos together.” I hate the note of hope I hear in my voice.

“And have my dad disown me? No, thanks.”

“How about dying my hair? I could be a brunette.”

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