Chapter Eleven

Brent

By the time I get down to the bar, Phoebe and David had already left and went to bed.

A few of the other people in the wedding party are still in the bar but have disbanded into smaller groups and they all seem to be in deep conversation that I'd rather not disrupt.

I walk up to the bar and take a seat.

I feel someone take a seat next to me. In the corner of my eye, I see him—Ben.

"Hey, Brent," he says, slapping my shoulder.

"Hey," I say back and then glance toward the bartender.

I need a drink.

"Sorry about earlier. I didn't think it was a big deal. Seems crazy that you and Zoey ended up together in the end," he says, taking a drink off the beer that Phoebe must have given him back.

I turn to him.

"What does that mean?" I ask, defensively.

He puts up his hands.

"Sorry man, I don't mean any disrespect. I just meant that it's good to see you two finally getting together. I thought she was going to end up with Liam, and he's a fucking tool. I always thought Zoey was too good for him."

That puts a smile on my face.

"She is too good for him," I agree.

However, when they started dating, I still looked up to the guy, so I didn't see it that way. Now, I feel differently about it after the way he's treated her and the fact that Ben's right—Liam is a tool.

"Honesty, I thought it was a funny origin story for you and Zoey. I didn't think Liam, or you would have taken offense to it."

It would have been a good story, if that story wasn't the beginning of the end of Zoey being single. Only a few days later, she was dating Liam.

"Who gives a shit about Liam?" I ask.

"Not me," Ben says, shaking his head. "Anyway… are we good?"

Ben is a good guy. I know he didn't mean any harm. And if Zoey and I were actually together and the entire event that led to me telling Liam who I was interested in hadn't happened, I would have laughed at it, too.

"Yeah, we're good," I nod.

"Okay. I'm headed to bed to sleep this off," he says, setting his empty beer on the bar. "See you tomorrow at ice skating?"

I nod. "See you tomorrow."

Ben starts heading for the exit when he yells something over his shoulder at me.

"Good to see you again, Brent. I'm glad you got the time off. David's wedding wouldn't be the same without you."

"I'm glad to be here, too."

I watch him as he heads out of the bar.

It's good to hear that I'm not the only one that thinks that Zoey deserves better than Liam.

"Back again? What can I get you?" the bartender asks, resting his hands on the bar top.

He's a guy probably ten years older than me, dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down white shirt with the arms rolled up and slightly faded tattoos along one forearm.

"Can I get a beer?" I ask.

"Do you have a preference?" he asks, grabbing a napkin from under the bar and setting it down in front of me.

I shake my head. "Whatever you have that's good."

He nods and reaches down under the counter. I hear an under-counter fridge door open and glass bottles clinking around.

When he straightens back up, he has a local IPA in his hand. He pops the top off the long neck bottle and sets it down on top of the napkin.

"Thanks," I say.

I reach for the bottle, pressing the top of the bottle to my lips as I take a pull off the ice-cold beer—the hoppy amber liquid fizzes against my tongue.

It's good.

"Are you with the wedding party that was just in here?" he asks.

When I was down here earlier, there were two bartenders, and it was the other one that made me and Zoey's first order. His shift must have already ended because this bartender seems alone for the night.

"Yeah, my best friend is getting married here this weekend," I tell him, looking around the bar to see who's left but everyone must have left while Ben and I were talking.

"Got it. Is everything okay with the woman in the dress? Seems like you two weren't here long," he asks, wiping down the counter to the side of me.

Great… glad we made a scene big enough for the bartender to notice.

"Woman in the dress?" I ask with a raised brow.

He just shrugs—He has no intention of apologizing.

Can I blame the guy for noticing?

Hell no.

Zoey was cute during our freshman and sophomore years of high school. She was beautiful during our junior and senior years. But now… with a few years on her, Zoey's a goddamn knock-out, and I'm not surprised he noticed her.

And in that dress… fuck, I'm only surprised he didn't jump over the bar and propose marriage to her on the spot.

If Zoey didn't hate me and we weren't faking it, I would have already been down on one knee.

"She's fine… I think." I take another pull off my drink, though I'm not sure if my answer is correct.

Though I left her upstairs with the last man on earth who has any intentions of doing right by her.

But that wasn't my choice.

I have no idea what's happening upstairs, and I don't want to.

None of it looks good for me.

He lifts a brow in question. "You think?"

"She's upstairs talking to her ex," I admit, though I don't know why I'm telling him this.

I take another pull off my beer and then study the label like I give a shit—I don't, I'm just trying to busy myself.

"The asshole that was sitting in the corner with the blonde?" he asks.

That gets my attention, and my eyes dart up to his. "How did you know that?"

"You notice things as a bartender, and from here," he says referring to behind the bar. "The room is more like a fishbowl. We can see all the angles. He didn't take his eyes off her after she walked in… I mean, unless he was glaring at you." He lets out a chuckle.

That's probably accurate too since I could barely keep my eyes off her too.

"They were engaged. Then he left her for the blonde right before their wedding," I tell him, giving him a quick play by play.

"He left the woman in the dress for the blonde?" he asks, a look of surprise on his face.

I nod, spinning my beer around on the bar top.

"And you left her upstairs with him?"

I give a slow nod.

"You're either an idiot or looking to be single real soon."

I bite down on my lip and grip my beer, a little tighter than necessary—my fingertips turning white.

I already know he's right but again… not my decision. This is what Zoey wants, and I agreed to help her if she helped me with my gran.

This is the exchange rate and I'm paying for it.

I wish I had known that Zoey had rented a room for us after prom. I had asked her to prom because Liam had broken up with her right before. I wanted a shot with her, but I didn't think she had any feelings for me. I thought she just saw me as a friend who asked her to prom after Liam broke it off.

If I had known about the room, I would have told Liam to go to hell when he called to tell me to call off prom with Zoey or our friendship was over.

I thought he was going to show up and take my place at prom. I didn't know he planned to leave her waiting in her kitchen to make me look like the bad guy.

I went down to the rink and sat on the ice.

I didn't shoot a single shot.

Instead, I watched the time move slowly, telling myself to stay put and not ruin her night by showing up to prom while she was there with Liam.

But if I tell her any of this, then maybe she'll be pissed enough to hate Liam… but then I just become the default—the second choice.

I want to be her first choice or nothing at all.

If she can forgive Liam for all the shit, he put her through, but she can't forgive me for something that happened ten years ago, then that's my answer.

"If I don't give her a choice, then did she actually choose me at all?" I ask him, though I'm not looking for him to respond.

I already know the answer.

"That's a tough question," he says, cleaning a glass. "You're a better man than me. I wouldn't have let her out of my sight. Not with that asshole around. Good luck," he says genuinely, and then walks over to help a couple that just walked into the bar.

I finish that beer and then another while watching the replay of a football game on the TV screen above the bar.

It's been over an hour since I left Zoey upstairs with Liam. I think I've given them enough time to talk.

I just hope I don't walk into the honeymoon suite to find them doing more than talking.

For all I know, Liam broke it off with Shelby and told Zoey that he wants her back. Or the cheating asshole could have just lied to her about breaking it off with Shelby.

But would Zoey go that far when Liam still thinks that we're together?

I have no idea what to expect but I know Zoey is better than that. At least I think she is.

I take the elevator up and head for our room.

I pull out my keycard in my back pocket and slide it over the door.

The green light indicates that I'm free to enter.

Zoey didn't lock the door.

That's a good sign, right?

I brace myself as I push through the heavy door.

The lights inside the room are all off except for a small stream of light in the bathroom.

I don't hear a sound, so I hope that means what I think it does.

Further into the dark room, I look over to the bed.

There's only one lump on the left side of the bed.

Zoey.

And she's alone and asleep.

I exhale a breath and then head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a leak.

I don't know what happened between them tonight or what they talked about. For all I know, I don't have a fake girlfriend anymore, but I guess I'll find out in the morning.