Page 31 of Try Hard
I stared at her deadpan.
Unfazed, she laughed again and shook her head. “That’s a no.”
“Indeed.” I glanced around the room. “So, this wedding is going to be a big one, huh?”
She shot me a knowing look. “What clued you in?”
“The fact that you’re about the fortieth bridesmaid I’ve met. Nice dress, by the way.”
Tanika grabbed the skirt of it and twirled. I could see Eveandher friend watching now.
My heart pounded painfully.
The bartender placed our drinks on the counter before us, moving away before we could pay.
“Kim’s got a tab,” Tanika explained at my confused expression. “But, seriously, there are nineteen bridesmaids, two maids of honour, six flower girls, four pageboys, two best men, and nineteen groomsmen.”
I blew out a breath. “I can’t even think of nineteen people I like, let alone ones I’d invite to be my bridesmaids.”
“And nobody is surprised about that.”
I shot her a look, eyebrows raised.
When we’d first met, Tanika had been every bit as shy as I was. Two kids, placed next to each other in a history class by a seating plan. But, over the weeks, we’d warmed up to each other, become friends—and we had a lot of classes together. It was nice to see a familiar face in the crowds. We’d become friends. But, as we got older, Tanika had gotten more outgoing, more bubbly. That was great for her, and it hadn’t impacted our friendship, but I’d never travelled that same path.
She grinned as if she could tell exactly what I was thinking. “And there’s about two hundred and fifty guests.”
My brow furrowed and I worked to keep my posture relaxed. The effort was in vain. Tanika could already see through me, and things got even worse when Eve cleared her throat and said, “Don’t worry, Fia, I’ll keep you safe in the crowds.”
Chapter Ten
Eve
“Archer,” Ophelia said, shooting me one of her characteristically guarded looks. “I didn’t even know you were attending.”
She looked beautiful. That navy blue suit fit her like a dream. Her hair was a flash of fire against it and, like a fool, all I wanted was to fly into the flames.
I could tell she was thinking about the fact that I’d been texting her when she was getting ready to leave. Our parents didn’t live far apart. She knew I’d have needed to leave around the same time to make it here. I hadn’t been trying to keep it from her. I hadn’t realised we were headed to the same place. And, honestly, I hadn’t wanted to admit I was completely ignoring the person giving me a ride to text her instead.
I smiled, holding her gaze and attempting to seem casual, as if her attention didn’t fill me with enough energy to run an entire pitch without breaking a sweat. “I didn’t know you were either, but I can’t say I’m disappointed.”
She sucked in a breath that felt so similar to other breaths I’d seen people take. That look, that pause… It was usually followed by flirting, kissing, sexual tension. I wasn’t foolish enough to assume it was the same thing with Ophelia—just foolish enough to wish it was.
Her gaze flickered to the woman beside me—Sammy, Kim’s future cousin-in-law and one of the many, many bridesmaids Ophelia and Tanika were talking about. I got the feeling Ophelia wasn’t taking to her, but then, Ophelia didn’t take to many people. She managed to get along fine with them, but she didn’tlikethem. Back in school, far more people had liked her than she’d ever seemed to like or feel comfortable around. It was part of why she was so intimidating—and part of why getting even a smile from her felt like winning an Olympic medal. Well… I’d done that too and getting smiles from Ophelia was ten times more challenging.
“I’m Sammy,” she said, reaching a hand towards Ophelia, suddenly equally guarded. “I’m Kieran’s cousin. The groom, you know.”
“Fia,” she replied, a placid smile on her face as she returned the handshake. “I went to school with Kim and Kieran.”
“Yeah, she’s mentioned you, actually,” Sammy said, and I could sense the tense undercurrent in her tone, a million miles from how she’d been five minutes ago.
I wasn’t ignorant enough not to put the pieces together, but I was busy trying not to beam over the fact that Ophelia had introduced herself as Fia—and over the fact that she’d referred to me by only my last name again. Sure, some people did that to keep a distance between you and them, and, sure, as an athlete, I’d had plenty of people just call me Archer over the years, but it felt different with Ophelia. A public callback to our private conversation. Not anything others would bat an eyelid at, but something just the two of us fully understood.
“Interesting,” Ophelia said plainly.
I’d seen her be less standoffish with people—though I’d seen her be more so too—but there was still something magnetic about her. Perhaps it was from the fact that she’d never given into that subtle training that women needed to be pleasant and polite and constantly nice.
Sammy seemed to be having a difficult time figuring her out, too. The predominant emotion was annoyance at having our conversation interrupted. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”
