Page 71 of For Keeps. For Always.

“What?” I balk.

“Him.” He gestures toward the ballroom. “Your best friend.Brooks. Have the two of you been anything more?”

I can’t bring myself to lie, but I don’t know what I would classify us as, so I choose my silence.

“Fuck. Blondie in there told me you cheated with him a few years back.”

I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “That was a long time ago. We were young—”

“It’s true.” His head tips back, a frustrated growl catching the attention of people walking past. “Fuck, Henley. You invited me to a wedding you knew your fuck buddy was going to be at? What kind of fucked-up shit is that?”

“He’s my best friend, not my. . .” I can’t bring myself to call Brooks myfuck buddyto devalue him that way.

“You were all but salivating over one another on the dance floor in there. It wasn’t fucking, Henley. You werelovingone another.In front of me,” he roars.

“Alex.” I reach out to touch him, but he yanks his arm away from me.

“Do you love him?”

I bite my tongue, tasting the warm, metallic tang of my own blood in my mouth.

“Tell me I’m wrong, and we’ll go back in there,” he commands. “Tell me you’re not in love with yourbest friend,” he says the words like they’re dirty, like they’re tainted.

“I . . . It’s not. . . You can’t. . .”

“Fucking hell.” He laughs humorlessly. “You’re a piece of work, Henley. Don’t call me again.”

Hand covering my mouth, I watch him leave, begging myself to chase him down to tell him what he wants to hear, what he needs to stay, but I can’t get my feet to move. As the door opens and he disappears into the night, I can only find relief flooding my body.

Glancing back at the ballroom, I can’t bring myself to walk back inside. I glance around the opulent space, choosing to move to the hotel bar instead.

Three glasses of champagne later, I wobble onto my feet. My head feels light. It buzzes with pain and self-loathing and a little bit of numbness andjusta dash of zero fuckery.

My boyfriend just broke up with me.

I bark out a laugh.

My boyfriend just broke up with me at a wedding.

I bend over in giggles, unable to stop the hysterical laughter bubbling from my lips.

23

BROOKS

“I went through your messages,”Grace accuses, but I barely hear her as my eyes ache to search the space for Henley.

I can’t feel her in the room, the weight of her stare or the race in her heart when our eyes meet.

“You were involved,” Grace continues.

“Hm.”

“Brooks,” she bites out loud enough to make me pay attention.

“Yes. We were involved,” I admit distractedly, physically moving Grace, spinning her to give my eyes access to the whole room.

“More than once,” she pushes, shunning my hands from her body.

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