The Best Man Read online Winter Renshaw

Categories Genre: New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
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Megan points. “That girl with the big blue eyes and the long wavy hair and the flowy marigold dress.”

My gaze lands on the deep yellow across the room. How I missed it the first time, I don’t know. But sure enough, the girl is shooting looks in our direction.

My direction.

Because that girl … is Serena.

“I think she used to date Grant.” I turn back to Megan. “Ignore her.”

“Maybe you should tell her he’s single?”

“What’s the point?” I shrug and sip my lemon drop martini.

“I just don’t like the way she’s looking at you. I want her to stop.” Ever the protective big sister, Megan glares back in Serena’s direction.

“She’s not worth it.” I pat Megan’s arm to redirect her attention. “Stop. Let it go.”

“Oh my God. She’s still looking over here.” Megan scowls. “I’m going to say something.”

“Don’t …”

Before I can utter another protest, she’s on her way to the other side of the bar. Her back is to me and her hands move as she speaks—never a good sign. I turn away. I can’t watch this. Sipping my drink, I peruse the bar menu before scrolling through my phone a minute or two. Checking back, I find them still going at it.

And then Serena whips out her phone. The screen lights the dark space around them, painting their faces in white-blue light. Megan leans in. And then for some crazy reason, Serena hands my sister her phone.

I’m half-tempted to go over there and investigate, but something tells me to stay put.

An endless minute goes by before Meg returns.

“That son of a bitch.” She shakes her head and reaches for her drink.

“What? What just happened? I’m so confused …”

“Well.” She squares her shoulders. “I went over there and introduced myself as your sister. I told her that she needed to grow the hell up and leave you alone. I told her that you dumped Grant. That you were done with him. And then I said he was all hers … to which she responded: what made you think he never was?”

“Meg, how drunk are you? You’re not making sense. I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

“Basically … the whole time Grant was engaged to you, he was screwing her behind your back.”

I have no words.

In fact, I can hardly bring myself to move a muscle.

I never loved him, not in any profound sort of way. But the sting of betrayal sends a searing heat to my core and a burn to my eyes.

“Hey.” Meg reaches across the table, covering my hand with hers. “Don’t cry over that asshole.”

“I’m not.” The tears fall anyway. “I just feel so stupid, that’s all.”

“He had you snowed. He had us all snowed. Just be grateful you went with your gut and got out of that before it was too late.” She gives me a squeeze. “Want to get out of here? Let’s go. We can loaf it up on the couch. Put on some Sex and the City. Maybe grab some microwave popcorn and cinnamon Mike and Ikes on the way home from that bodega on the corner?”

She’s trying to cheer me up, and I love her for that, but this is one of those things I’m going to have to sit with for a sec.

I’ll get over it.

I’m not worried about that.

I just need to let myself feel this molten wave of emotions so I know exactly how I never want to feel again: like a fool.

44

Cainan

It’s two solid hours before Grant emerges from the hotel suite bedroom, tucking his shirt down his pants and wearing a satisfied smile.

“Good to see you’re taking this Brie thing in stride,” I say when I bump into him by the fridge.

He grabs a beer, his satisfied smile fading. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like you’re in better spirits, that’s all.”

“Yeah. Well. It’s a lost cause.” He pops the tab on his Coors, and I decide not to tell him his shirt buttons are crooked. He’s probably too drunk to care. “She convinced her dad not to invest with me. He ripped up the contracts. Told me to get lost.”

“So … that’s what makes it a lost cause?”

“Obviously.” He takes two generous swallows.

“I thought you loved her?” All those phone calls, all the self-pity, all the rambling he did about how perfect she was. “Or was it always about the money?”

Resting his back against the counter, he gives me a sideways smirk. “Don’t be so fucking dense.”

“Grant, you lied to me.” My vision narrows and my jaw is taut. “You told me you met the woman of your dreams … that she was everything you ever wanted … that you loved her … you said you wanted a house in the ‘burbs and kids and a dog …”

He hides his arrogant grin with his beer. “Yeah. I said those things.”



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