Page 77 of Fourth Wheel
“When our parents showed up for the meeting the next day, Field and I could barely keep it together. The poor headmaster’s face when he went to pull the weed out of the drawer and couldn’t find it.” Dempsey throws his head back in a fit of laughter, and I can’t help but join in. I seriously love seeing him like this.
“Our mom was so pissed that she’d canceled her luncheon for nothing. I’m pretty sure our father suspected there was more to the story, but he never pushed, and we never told. Glenn didn’t either, obviously. Fielding and I are legends in the hallowed halls of Fletcher Rigby Academy for Boys.”
Our server stops by, and Dem orders us another round, then pulls me closer beside him.
“You look so fucking good tonight, baby girl,” he whispers in my ear as he plays with the fringe along the hem of my dress. “I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel so I can fuck you with this on and feel this fringe tickling my dick.”
I squirm along the booth bench at the idea. “Do we really need another round?” I tease, biting down on my lower lip as I work my hand dangerously high up his pant leg.
“We do,” he retorts as he lifts my hand from his thigh and laces our fingers together. “It’s our last night in the city. I want to make every minute count.”
A figure steps in front of our table, blocking out the glow of Times Square from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I look up to thank our server, only to see a woman standing before us instead.
“Dempsey?”
I watch, perplexed, as Dempsey rises and greets the woman with enthusiastic familiarity. They hug and gush, each one insisting they can’t believe the other is here. I cross my legs and recross them again as the seconds tick by, growing increasingly aware of how comfortable they are with each other as they interact.
When they finally remember they’re not the only two people in the room, Dempsey turns to me and grins.
“Maddie—this is my friend Brooke. Brooke, this is Maddie.”
Brooke.TheBrooke? Holy shit. This is Brooke.
I rise to stand and offer her my hand as we not-so-subtly assess each other. She’s gorgeous—dressed in this striking silky pant suit with her dark brown hair twisted into an intricate crown on her head.
Her eyes aren’t unkind, but they aren’t welcoming either. We exchange “nice to meet yous” and she immediately turns back to Dempsey, only regarding me again when she catches him brushing his hand with mine.
I get the innate sense that she wants nothing more than for me to skedaddle, and I’m so out of my element that I’m more than happy to oblige.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I whisper in Dem’s ear. Not because I actually have to go. But because giving them a few minutes of privacy feels like the right thing to do.
He squeezes my hand once and pecks me on the cheek in a move I know she notices. His hand slides down my back as I angle to move out of the booth, and he fans his hand along the fringe that’s just barely covering my ass as I walk away.
If there was any question about what we are to each other, he just made it perfectly clear.
Or did he?
He introduced me as Maddie, which is fine. But he’s called me his girlfriend on more than one occasion over the last few weeks. He just didn’t say it to her.
I glance back at the two of them, careful to watch my balance as I walk in high heels through the rotating, circular bar. They’re sitting in our booth now, and she’s got a hand resting on his arm. They look like long-lost friends, eager to catch up. That, or former lovers, sprinkling fuel onto embers of the past.
I huff out a sigh of frustration as I push into the ladies’ room. It’s actually harder to pee in this dress than to just hold it—the sacrifices we make for fashion—so I busy myself with fluffing my hair and washing my hands. As I study myself in the mirror over the sink, my new necklace catches my attention, and a wave of insecurity slams into me.
What the hell does it mean that we ran into his ex-fiancée in a city with more than eight million people? What are the chances that they’re both here, on the same night, in the same bar?
I toy with my necklace and try to get my head on straight. We were only ever going to be temporary. Iknowthat. So why do I keep thinking about the moment he rose to his feet without hesitation and wrapped her in a hug?
They look good together, I’ll give them that. I don’t know what I expected Brooke to look like, but she’s gorgeous; the epitome of grace and class. Probably the type of woman who dreams of supporting her husband and raising a family. She would be the perfect partner for him now and into the future.
They make sense together.
We never did.
Maybe the kindest thing I can do for him is give him this night. Maybe there’s a reason we ended up at this bar. Maybe this is why he was supposed to be in the city this weekend. I just happened to be along for the ride.
By the time I make my way back to the table, my mind is made up.
Dempsey moves over so I can sit beside him, but I give him a subtle headshake and reach past him for my wristlet.
