30. MADDIE

CHAPTER 30

MADDIE

" M addie, why aren't you with the others? I'm about to toss the bouquet."

I groan into my club soda.

I made a decision before coming to Meg's wedding. Option one, get thoroughly sloshed so I could put up with the full night of torture among Mom and other equally bad, or worse, relatives. Or option two, stay sober so I could drive away at the earliest chance. I chose the second one, and I regret it, because I haven't found a window of opportunity to hightail it out of here.

Every time I try, Mom seems to read my mind and gets between the exit and me. And apparently even the bride can now read my intentions, because I was just thinking this might be it. Most of the attendees who aren't dancing or still attacking the open bar are getting ready to watch the bouquet toss, which will be followed by the garter toss.

"It's okay. Your law school friends seem to not need any further competition."

We turn to the group of women. A couple of my sister's friends from the good ole days have even removed their heels so they can maneuver. That's how committed they are. Or maybe their feet hurt and they should've worn flats like me. We'll never know.

Meg shakes her head at them and shifts her attention back to me. She runs her hand down my arm until she grabs my hand. "Don't mind them. I want you there. You've looked gorgeous but sad all night, and this should be fun."

Swinging our hands, I say, "Dude, you've had a chance to look at me all night? I thought your eyes belonged to your hubby already."

"Looking at his beard gets tiring after a while." She grins. We both know they've been making moony faces at each other since the day they met in law school and that it'll be that way until the day death do them part.

According to Mom, she and Dad were the same until death did do them part. I've always yearned for something like that, even though deep down, I've never believed I would get it. I don't want another fresh reminder of how this whole thing isn't for me, so I try gently shooting my sister down again.

"I think I'm okay, but thanks."

"Is this related to that plus-one of yours who didn't show up?"

I grimace. "That's a bold assumption."

"Not quite." She shrugs one delicate shoulder. "It's all the harpies have been talking about tonight. Not even the shrimp caused such a sensation, unfortunately."

And the shrimp were massive. Here I thought it'd capture their attention for a bit.

I fold my arms. Even if the whole… thing with Aran hadn't gone down, I'd still have probably been miserable here, and we both know it. Mom's still annoyed by the fact I'm not wearing the bolero she spent extra money on to hide my arms with. She still tells everyone my work options are open after graduation. My cousins still openly call me a loser for never having a boyfriend. One of the bridesmaids keeps pushing me to the corner spots in pictures, probably to crop me out later. And I'm really hungry, because for some reason, the vegetarian options flew off the tables first.

As if that all wasn't enough, I just had to add some severe form of heartbreak to all that, huh?

"Yeah, well. If you know, you wouldn't want to rub my eternal singlehood in my face."

"It's not that, silly. I just want to see you have a little bit of fun. Will you give me that gift tonight?" Meg has the nerve to pout all cutely, and even if I try, there's no way I could get angry at my sister. She's the only angel in this family, and to date, I don't understand how she can transform into an intense bloodhound in court.

"Fine."

"Yes!" She pumps her fist and leans forward to give me a one-armed hug, mindful of not squishing the famous bouquet between us. When she pulls away, she says, "That guy's a complete bonehead and doesn't deserve any of your time. You'll find a better one who worships the ground you walk on. You'll see."

I'm not sure if I'm smiling or grimacing. I'm sure there are better guys than Aran out there. Somewhere. Probably in Iceland or in Laos. Where I'll never meet them.

She drags me toward the fray and squeezes my hand one more time before letting go. As Meg takes her position and the cameras start rolling, I let the throng of women swallow me. The ones who show the most interest in catching the bouquet elbow their way to the front quite violently. I'm happy to hang out bruise-less at the back.

"Ready?" Meg screams, and the hyenas screech in response.

It is kind of funny. But it's also kind of sad that we're all out here desperately looking for love in a silly tradition when men are so… unavailable. Let's call it that.

My sister swings the bouquet once, twice, and throws. Amid squeals, the women struggle, trying to trace the arch. It's pretty high. The beautiful arrangement of white roses and pink peonies spins in the air, tendrils of decorative ribbon making quite a lovely swirl in the air. This will show up in the highlight reels of the night.

I frown. Goodness, Meg should've been a football quarterback. This thing is still going.

Straight to me.

"Oh, crap." The pack of hyenas skid as they try to change tack. I take a few steps back, one eye on them and one on the flowers.

One thing happens and one doesn't. The one that does is that I shut my eyes tight and extend my hands just in case, but instead of protecting me, something soft and perfumed lands in them. The one that doesn't happen is that I don't get run over.

I crack one eye open. The women groan, some glare. But no one's busting the hockey enforcer moves on me to steal the bouquet. Beyond them, Meg is doing a happy dance, as if this was her plan all along. I wouldn't put it past her.

Mom materializes right next to me. "Smile for the cameras, sweetie."

This time I'm sure there's a grimace on my face instead of a smile.

"Isn't this great, Maddie!" Meg makes her way over, grinning from ear to ear. "Can't wait to attend your wedding next."

"First she has to find a man," Mom says through a tight smile as we get pictures taken. "Any man will do at this point."

"Gee, Mom. I'm only twenty-one, and this isn't the Regency era."

She's squinting at something in the distance instead of paying attention to me, though. "Who is that?"

"Who?" Meg asks, standing on her tippy-toes to try to see around the people on the dance floor.

"Anyway, I'm going to?—"

My words die in my mouth because a stirring in the crowd catches my attention too. Between the strobe lights flashing in the dark and the people coming and going or dancing out of sync to a DJ relying mostly on playlists, it's hard to see. But I see it, all right. It would be impossible to miss a guy who is a foot taller than me.

I turn into a statue, which my Mom and Meg notice immediately.

And Meg, being the smart one of the family, immediately says, "Wait, is that your plus-one?"

He's wearing the tie I got him.

I should've run away earlier.

Aran makes a determined straight line toward me, and I try to peel away, but Mom's vise grip on my arm won't let me.

"Maddie, I'm sorry I'm late," he says, as if anyone asked him. Before I can react, he extends his hand to my mom. "Hi, I'm Aran Rodriguez, Maddie's plus-one."

"Oh?" Mom looks him up and down. Twice. And then turns to me with a cocked eyebrow. "Is that so?" If disbelief turned into a human being, it would be her right now.

Meanwhile, my sister says, "So great you could come! You've missed a lot of the fun, though."

Aran is his usual impassive self, and tonight, it irritates me. I wish he had the capacity to look contrite, at least because it would mean he cares enough to feel that. But maybe I shouldn't expect feelings out of someone who hasn't committed to them. That's my fault.

"Mom, Megs. I need to talk with Aran for a moment." I hand Mom the flowers and add, "Alone."

"Of course." Meg laces her arm with Mom's and pulls her away, saying, "Let's go see if Justin's ready for the garter toss."

"But—"

"Come, Mother."

Crap, why did I send them off? As much as I didn't want them to engage with Aran, I also don't want to be alone with him. I've been avoiding it for a week for reasons. The main one being that looking into his eyes makes me want to bawl mine out.

I keep my attention on my folded arms as I ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I figured you may need a friend." If he notices my flinch, he ignores it and keeps going. "And friends are there for friends in need, right?"

"Is that what you think we are now?"

That gets me no response. Slowly, I take in his frame, pausing at the tie and the handkerchief neatly tucked into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, then continuing on until I finally reach those piercing eyes of his. And by the look of them, he's trying to read my mind.

"And who is this tall drink of water?"

Oh, great. It's my cousin Stacey, the Lori of the family, along with my cousin Leah, her lackey. I forgot that getting Mom to give us some privacy didn't extend to the rest of the family.

She slides next to us, closer to Aran. Funny enough, he slides right up to me.

"I'm Maddie's plus-one" is all he says, the fabric of his jacket brushing my arm. So close and yet so far.

Stacey's eyes ping-pong between us. "Really. Maddie, did you really have to hire an escort service to impress us?"

Leah snorts a laugh.

I check in on Aran. He doesn't seem insulted, but even so, I tell him, "I assure you not everyone in my family is as disgusting. Just about half of them."

"What did you just call me?"

Aran's lips twitch. He leans down to whisper in my ear. "I'm game if you want to give them a show."

Of course he is. As long as it's for fun only.

Well, no more. I can't go ahead with our fake dating scheme. Or the kisses that make me want more. I'm done. I don't care if my relatives think I had to hire some hot guy so I wouldn't look pathetic. I don't give a crap about what anyone else thinks anymore.

I offer a saccharine smile to my cousins. "You guys go find someone else to belittle. Heaven knows that's the only thing that makes your miserable lives keep going. My plus-one and I are leaving."

As if on cue, Aran circles my waist with his arm and leads me away. I keep going even when he stops, and he has no choice but to follow me out. At the front of the converted barn, a teenage boy asks for my coat ticket and makes a face when I fish it from my bustier. Aran doesn't give him a ticket, though, and we wait in silence until I get my coat.

Outside, his steps echo in the quiet night, the party noise well behind us.

"Why are you here, Aran?" I finally break the calm, keeping my attention ahead while crossing the expanse of grass toward the parking lot.

"I told you."

I stop and turn around, catching him in the middle of rubbing his head like he does when he's stressed out. There's a crease between his eyebrows. This is the expression I wanted to see earlier, but now it brings no satisfaction. I feel…

Empty.

"We're not friends," I say, my voice soft but surprisingly firm. "I don't know what we were, but it wasn't exactly that."

His shoulders sag when he drops his arm. "Maddie, we are friends. We've been friends all along. We can keep being friends."

"Maybe that's what you think, but I can't." I shake my head several times, my eyes lowering progressively until they fall into the abyss between us. "I can't keep seeing you if I want to have any hope of getting over you."

Aran swallows so thickly even I hear it. His voice comes out like gravel when he says, "So, what? Are we supposed to be strangers now? Is that… Is it really what you want?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to contain the tears pooling in them. Bundling into my fluffy coat, I turn my back on him and say, "You can't have your cake and eat it too." And with an even more quiet voice, I add, "Sorry you came all this way for this."

And again, like that night at the Bolt House, Aran doesn't follow.