A Love Letter to Whiskey (32 page)

His hand was on mine now, not invasive, just resting there. I swallowed. “I don’t know how I feel about any of it yet. I really don’t. I came straight here, drank way too much, and now I can’t think straight.” The bartender topped off my water and I took a drink quickly. “I’m sure the hangover tomorrow will be a bitch — in more ways than one.”

River’s thumb grazed mine then. “I know it hurts right now, and I’m not going to sit here and bullshit you like it’s going to stop hurting tomorrow. Clearly you love this guy, enough to swallow your pride and be beside him on the most important day of his life.”

I gulped.
The most important day of his life, and I would be a supporting actress.

“But I want to be the first to tell you, since clearly you haven’t heard it yet,” he added, leaning in just a bit more. I smelled the gin on his breath, mixed with evergreen. He leveled his blue eyes with mine. “You are, by
far
, the most spectacular woman I have ever met. You’re bright, driven, intelligent, funny, kind — I could go on all night, B. I really could. And there is not one doubt in my mind that there are good men out there who would give anything just to have a
chance
to prove to you what you’re worth.” He swallowed then, and my mouth fell open slightly at his words. They were so sincere, his voice so steady. “And the line forms behind me.”

His hand slipped from mine up my arm then, treading boldly to frame my jaw before curving around the nape of my neck. His eyes were steady as they fell to my lips, but unsure. He was waiting for me to tell him it was okay, and that night, whether it was a good decision or not, I told him.

I leaned closer, twisted my hands in the starch fabric of his dress shirt, and pulled his lips to mine.

It was wrong — it was all wrong. His lips weren’t as full as Jamie’s, his tongue worked too quickly against mine, his hands were cautious and slow. He didn’t smell like honey and spice, he smelled like paper and ink — which was beautiful, but he just wasn’t Whiskey.

And that’s when I realized, he didn’t have to be.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our kiss, shedding any remaining thoughts of Jamie and Angel. Of the wedding. Of that night in general. We barely broke our kisses long enough to make it up the elevator to my apartment, and once we were inside, neither of us said another word.

River was frantic with me, like he couldn’t believe we were in my bed, like he’d been waiting years to get this chance. I realized maybe he had. I’d caught on to his flirting, but I never realized he felt how he said he did in the bar. He didn’t just want me, he noticed me — the best parts of me, and just that alone made him sexy in my eyes.

I tried hard not to, but I compared every move he made to Whiskey. The way he kissed my neck, the way his fingers felt inside me, the way he looked when he came. It was nice with River — fun, sweet, almost a little too intimate. That night, he wasn’t my shot of whiskey, but he was my cup of tea — and maybe that’s what I needed. A change in pace, a new addiction, a fresh taste on my tongue.

At least, that’s what I told myself that night. I repeated it in my head until River stepped out early the next morning and I called into work. Just like I’d predicted, the hangover hit me like a wall of a wave.

I’d gotten wasted the night before, numbed myself with booze and the hands of another man. But now, in the orange dawn of the morning after, I felt everything I’d worked so hard not to.

Jamie was getting married.

He would never be my Jamie again.

I wasn’t supposed to still love him.

But I did.

“LATER, B,” MONA SAID
, shrugging on her chic leather jacket and pulling her long ponytail free from the neck of it. “Don’t stay at work too late on your last night before vacation.”

I stood up to stretch, rolling my eyes. “I hardly call this a vacation.”

“Hey. It’s like eighty degrees where you’re going. It’s thirty here. It’s a vacation, even if all you do is sit outside the airport.”

“I’ll send you a postcard from Terminal A.”

She narrowed her eyes but smiled. “Brat. Travel safe. See you next week.”

I waved, reaching my hands up high and cracking my neck before sitting back down at my desk. It was only five-thirty, still early as far as I was concerned, and even though I didn’t really have much left to tie up before I left, I wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

The truth was, I had become the master of avoiding in the seven months that had passed since the night Jamie called me with his big news. I’d gone back to business as usual, keeping myself busy and my mind off the wedding. Of course there was the dress I had to buy for the occasion, and the planning I had to do as his “Best Lady”, but other than the few things Angel left in my hands, I’d mostly avoided.

It wasn’t that I didn’t talk to Jamie, because I did, but I just didn’t allow myself to dwell on anything once we were off the phone. That was made easier by the nights I spent with River in my bed.

He was so different from Jamie.

It wasn’t that he was a good different, nor that he was a bad different — he just was. What we had was casual, and he never asked me to talk about it — to name it — to figure it out. We just worked like we always had, hung out in the same group like we always had, and occasionally, we fell into each other’s sheets. That was it. It was simple, and it was exactly what I needed. I was avoiding, and he was letting me.

Still, I felt it in his demeanor. The longer we went on like that, the more he wanted to ask the questions I was glad he wasn’t asking. I didn’t know how much longer I had until he asked them. I didn’t know what I would say when he did.

I managed to kill another hour before I turned on my
out of office
email and powered down my computer. I stood, stretching again, and jumped when River’s hands snuck up behind me and grabbed my waist.

“About time you got out of here.”

I looked around us as I spun to face him, making sure we were alone in the office. It wasn’t that it’d be an issue if we were together, more that neither of us wanted the unnecessary attention. “You know this is early for me.”

“Yeah, but tonight is an exception,” he reminded me, locking his fingers at the small of my back. We didn’t touch like this very often, opting more for the kind of touches that went with fucking for hours. But it was nice to be held that evening. River’s brows dropped, and he pulled me a little closer. “You ready for your big trip?”

“I think so.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Avoid avoid avoid.

“Nah, I think I’m good.” River pursed his lips and I swatted at his chest playfully, putting some space between us. “I’m serious.”

“Fine. Want to pass the hours between now and boarding time, then?” He licked his lower lip before settling with an easy grin. Any other night and I would have taken him up on the offer, but for some reason his insinuation made my skin crawl.

“I really need to pack, actually,” I said, grabbing my purse off my desk. We started walking together toward the elevator as I continued. “And sleep. Because Lord knows I won’t be getting much of that once my plane touches down.”

River laughed as the elevator door slid open. He held his arm out as I stepped in and followed behind me. “That’s true. Still kind of weird to me that you’re throwing him his bachelor party.”

“It’s casual, just a night out at his favorite local bar. He didn’t want anything big.” I shrugged. “It’s actually my first time being in a wedding, so this is all kind of new to me. I’m glad he made it easy.”

“Yeah. Isn’t the bride doing some big trip?”

I nodded as the elevator hit the bottom floor, and we stepped out into the lobby of our office building, both of us tugging our coats on as we walked into the crisp spring air. “She and her girls are flying to New Orleans for a bachelorette bash. We’ll see if she shows up to the wedding with beads still around her neck.”

River smirked, tucking his hands into his pockets. For a few moments we just walked in silence, enjoying the sounds of the city as the sun set behind the buildings. It was mid-March and chilly, but I loved it. Thinking back to the sweltering months in Florida and how we hardly had a winter, I didn’t really mind that the cold liked to hang around Pittsburgh for a good portion of the year. I liked the dry, fresh feel of the air. It was promising.

“Just try not to think too much about work this weekend, okay?” River said as we reached my apartment building. “Relax, have some fun, and if it gets to be too much, you can call me.”

“Okay.” I hugged him quickly, planting a kiss on his cheek before ducking into my building. “Have a good weekend, Riv.”

“I mean it, you can call me,” he said again as I let the door swing closed behind me. I turned with a smile and waved one last time. River’s blonde hair was mussed in the cool wind, and in his light gray pea coat, he looked straight out of a men’s fashion magazine. I chewed my lip as I stepped into my elevator, wondering if spending the night with him would be such a bad thing after all. But I really did need to pack, and more than that, I needed to face my thoughts.

I’d been spending so much time avoiding, thinking that would make it all go away, but the truth was I would be on a plane the next day and then I’d be there — in South Florida — with Jamie. With his fiancé.

It was time to really think about how I felt about that.

I packed slowly, blasting the latest album from a local indie band River had introduced me to. I contemplated pouring up a glass of wine, but decided I’d rather have a clear head that night. So, I made a root beer float, instead. It reminded me of my dad a little, because it used to be his favorite dessert, but it was one of the comforting memories I had of my dad. Sometimes when I thought of him I felt pain, sometimes I felt a warm sort of sadness — and a root beer float brought me that second kind of feeling.

Once my bag was packed for the weekend and my outfit for the next day laid out, I stripped off my clothes, tied my hair up on my head, and sank down into the scalding water of a bubble bath.

I was on my second float now, and I scooped out a bite of vanilla ice cream as the bubbles piled higher around me, counting the freckles on my thighs as they disappeared under the foam. I hummed along to the lyrics of the music still pouring in from my bedroom speaker, and once the tub was full and my float was gone, I sat my glass on the ground beside the tub and slid down farther.

My toes played with the faucet, letting in little drops of water as my thoughts finally started to soak in along with the hot water.

Jamie was getting married.

I took a deep, cleansing breath, closing my eyes for a moment before blinking them open again.

It hurt. That was the first thing I realized — the first thing I admitted. Knowing Jamie was marrying another woman hurt. It was a regretful sort of pain, a twisting knot of
what if
mixed with the notion that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t just that he was marrying another woman, it was that he loved her. I’d never loved another man in my life, not even Ethan. It was only Jamie.

So it hurt.

I was going to miss him. That was the second thought that had sunk in. I knew his fiancé had put up with me this past year and a half, but I also could tell by the tone of her voice that she wasn’t my biggest fan. Once they were married, I knew she’d pressure him more and more to distance himself from me. Hell, she was more understanding than I think I would be in her position. I wanted to hate her for being suspicious of me, but the truth was she should have been — and I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want Jamie being as close with me as he was.

The last thing that sank in was the most surprising, and I sat up a little straighter in the tub as it hit me.

I was happy for him.

It hurt, I was going to miss him, but he was happy — really, really happy — and that made me happy, too. I had always been selfish when it came to Jamie. I wanted him even when I couldn’t have him, when I
could
have him but wasn’t ready to. But now, because I still loved him, I was going to put his happiness before mine. I was going to deal with the pain, if only for just that weekend, because he needed me to.

He was my best friend.

I wasn’t sure if that would ever change. I was scared it would, I felt that gnawing possibility deep in my core.