Page 20 of The Plus One
Indira shot her a dirty look, but it was quickly replaced by a melting smile when Evie, Lizzie’s toddler, popped between them and gave Indira a sloppy kiss.
“Cheesecake!” Evie shrieked, before crawling onto Indira’s lap. Indira, a hopelessly adoring aunt, was wrapped around Evie’s pudgy little finger. Lizzie and Rake beamed at their daughter.
Rake and Collin had become close over the years with how much time Lizzie and Indira spent together, earning him a groomsman spot. Jeremy and Lizzie had also formed a special bond, particularly after Jeremy discovered Lizzie’s immense talent for erotic baked goods. Not only was she his groomsmaid, but she was also making the wedding cake. There was no chance it wouldn’t be perverse.
“I know this can’t be fun for you,” Lizzie whispered, tracing her knuckle across Evie’s soft cheek, “but that’s no reason to blaspheme the Cheesecake Factory.”
Indira shot Lizzie a bland look.Funwasn’t even in the top one-thousand words she would use to describe this night.
“Don’t hog the sweet angel,” Thu said, leaning toward Indira and blowing raspberries into Evie’s neck. She let out a squeal and squirmed on Indira’s lap.
Thu wasn’t technically part of the wedding party, but she was close to Jeremy and Collin, and also known to bully her way into any event that provided free food.
“I’m absolutely not sharing,” Indira said, hugging Evie closer. “I need all the cuddles right now.”
“Feel free to keep her for a day or year,” Rake said from Lizzie’s other side. “She’s become quite the cot escape artist. I haven’t slept through the night in nearly two years.”
“Don’t be modest, dear,” Lizzie said, patting him on the cheek. “They know the real reason you’re up all night… As insatiable as ever,” Lizzie said, shooting Thu and Indira a lascivious wink. Rake blushed crimson.
“Say the word and I’ll verbally annihilate him,” Thu said, taking a prim sip of her drink and shooting a dark look across the table. Chris and Lauren rubbed their noses together while Jude silently studied his piece of bread.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Indira said out of the corner of her mouth, sharp prickles radiating across her skin. She was surprised, albeit relieved, at how little she missed Chris, but seeing him flaunt his new infatuation was a particularly bitter pill to swallow.
“I’ve been storing up insults for that man for as long as I’ve known him,” Thu whispered, an evil smile ticking up the corner of her mouth.
“Go on,” Indira encouraged, taking a big gulp of her drink.
“I’d start with how Chris is the most embarrassingly stereotypical example of the frosted-tip frat-boy-to-cryptocurrency-bro pipeline. I’m even considering making a PowerPoint that showcases every time he unironically used the terms ‘on that grind’ and ‘the city is my playground’ in a conversation, and how I believe I’m entitled to compensation for emotional and intellectual damages as a result. But if I need to go off the cuff at some point tonight, I’ll go for a quick but deeply personal attack on how unsettling his Vineyard Vines polo collection is, and end with an empirical review of how his favorite IPAs reflect all of his worst, and only, personality traits.”
Lizzie nodded in agreement.
Indira stifled a laugh as she took another sip of her drink, a buzzy type of warmth filling her. “I can’t let you destroy him without Harper around to witness. She’s quietly hated him more than you this past year, I think.”
“Her on-call schedule is really interfering with my hobbies,” Thu said, pouting. “She needs to reassess her priorities.” The three women giggled.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Collin said from the head of the table next to Jeremy with a voice that very much conveyed the opposite. “But it seems like you haven’t started any of your paintings. I just want to make sure you’re taking this seriously. Look at Rake—he’s already completed two.”
Rake blushed and bowed his head with a smile like a teacher’s pet.
“Oh, I’m taking thissooooseriously,” Indira drawled, jamming her brush in black ink and dragging it over the canvas. “Don’t you like it?” She turned around the tiny canvas to show Collin a rough outline of a hand giving the middle finger. “Inspired by how much I love you.”
Collin’s handsome face fell into a scathing frown, causing wondrous satisfaction to flood through Indira. “You’re so immature,” Collin snapped.
“Maturity is a social construct upheld by the patriarchy with an incredibly narrow, white, cis, neurotypical scope to enforce conformity and then implemented as an othering and shaming tactic for anyone that steps outside of that paradigm.”
Collin blinked at Indira, a notch deepening between his eyebrows as he processed that.
A rough sound from across the table grabbed Indira’s attention. It was the echo of a memory, rusty and worn, but still recognizable.
Jude had laughed.
Indira stared at him, and Jude looked back, eyes wide like the sound had surprised him too.
Jude was quiet by nature, but his silence since he’d been back was different, tinged with an undercurrent of hurt that Indira didn’t fully understand.
Their gazes held, and Jude’s face lost a bit of its tension, a bit of its strain, something close to warmth and maybe even happiness peeking out of those coffee-black eyes.
Indira’s throat constricted painfully, a little voice in her head saying,Ah, there you are.
