Chapter One

Bo

the past

“Hey, I’m Izzy.”

Did you hear that? It was the sound of this woman’s voice.

It was pleasing to the ear, but also sweet, so sweet in fact I feared I’d get a cavity just listening to it.

It was mellifluous, but not angels singing or anything, a notch just below that.

“It’s really nice meeting you,” she said and went on. And on. And on.

I wouldn’t bore you with the play by play, but what I would say was that I thought we reached a point where I wanted to clench my jaw so tight that I might’ve cracked a molar. Man, I needed a drink.

She smiled at me, so wide in fact that I wondered if her face was tired. What I wanted to say was, “No need to hurt your face on my account.” But something told me she smiled like that often. So instead I said, “It’s great meeting you, too. I’m Bo.”

She placed both hands behind her head, fussing with her hair. Then she dropped her hands. “So you want a drink?” she asked me, practically shouting now as the bar grew louder.

I nodded. Definitely. Absolutely. One-million percent. “Sure.”

I heard the sound of a bell being rung and turned to see a big, burly man standing on a table, shouting something I didn’t quite catch. “What’s that about?”

“That’s Hank. He’s telling everyone it’s karaoke time. Kicks off when the bell rings, but for newcomers he stands on a table and formally announces it,” she paused and pointed, “just like that to alert them to what’s going on.” Then she giggled. “Well, tries to anyway. It can get pretty rowdy in here on a Friday night as you can tell.”

After ordering our drinks, I turned in my seat and looked out at the dance floor, tilting my head. “Looks like Fiona and Louie had no trouble ditching us.”

She looked, too, and then turned back around, waving a hand in the air. “Eh, they’re in love.”

”Love,” I repeated the word, but then swore not to say it again for fear that, like with the boogeyman, something would happen if I said it too many times.

The whole notion of love was ridiculous and basically far-fetched. I’d been “in love” before, but it was a conscious choice. And there laid the ridiculousness of love. There was no such thing as falling in love or tripping or stumbling or whatever you wanted to call it. Why couldn’t people see love for what it really was? I would have more respect for the whole notion if people just said it like it was: I have decided to be in love with this person so that we can tie ourselves together with a piece of paper in a supposedly sacred union. Then we can have babies and brag about the family tree we’ve created all because we decided to love each other.

That was what Louie and Fiona were celebrating, in my opinion. Their conscious decision to love one another. Their daily commitment to each other. That was what their wedding was all about.

What? Just because I was the best man didn’t mean I needed to have stars in my eyes for the whole concept.

And because you were probably already thinking it—yes, I believed Valentine’s Day was concocted by chocolate and greeting card companies who got together to make money. Frankly, it was genius. And the chocolate and card companies weren’t the only ones to make out like bandits on that day, but we were going way off topic there.

Izzy ran a hand across the rim of her glass. “Something tells me you’re not the romantic type.”

No argument there. I took a sip of my scotch and shrugged. “What, like buy a girl flowers and bring her boxes of chocolates?”

She quirked a brow and placed a hand on my arm. Her hand was small and her touch delicate. Honestly, as I looked down at it, I actually imagined holding it in my own.

No way! I shook my head and pushed those thoughts away. Far, far away. Thoughts like those were going to get me nowhere.

It was this whole wedding bull. What was it about weddings that made people feel extra lonely, like it held a magnifying glass to the one part of your life you cared to not highlight so much? You know, the one where you came home every night to an empty house?

A woman like Izzy shouldn’t be anywhere near a man like me. She was way too happy and optimistic. I, on the other hand, prided myself on being a realist. Hence the reason I could see love for what it really was—malarkey.

Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand back and smiled, the smile reaching the corners of her eyes. “Sure, flowers and chocolate are nice, but love is more than thinking about someone. It’s like,” she stopped, clearly searching for the words. Then she placed a hand on her chest and gasped. “Like that.”

I gave her a puzzled expression and cocked a brow. “Like gasping?”

“No.” She chuckled. “Like getting the wind knocked out of you.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s hard to explain.”

I held my glass in my hands. “Maybe so, but I guess I see what you’re saying.”

“So?” she prompted and looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head. “So, what?” What was she waiting for?

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Sighing, I sat back and released the grip I had on my glass. “Yes, but something tells me our past relationship experiences are drastically different,” I explained, not wanting to go back to that place, but I could tell I needed to explain otherwise this might never end. “She wasn’t who I thought she was.”

A pout on her lips, she leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm again. “I’m sorry, Bo.”

Thankfully, Fiona walked up just then and announced, “Come on, it’s karaoke time.”

Not that I had any clue what she wanted us to do about it and where we were going. I looked at Louie and shook my head. As my best friend he should already know I wasn’t getting up on stage and singing no matter how many drinks they plied me with.

Izzy, much to my surprise, seemed to feel the same way. Shaking her head, she insisted, “Uh-uh! No way.”

“Izzy,” Fiona said, tugging on her arm. “Come on.”

“Fine, but I need at least two tequila shots before getting up there,” Izzy conceded. “How about you, Bo?”

I looked at Louie again who was only laughing, sipping his beer. “What’d you expect, buddy? It’s karaoke night.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. I’ll watch.”

“Told you he wouldn’t play ball,” Louie said to Fiona as he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her close.

She turned to me and now I felt the stare of six eyes on me, but I wasn’t budging on this one. There were three things I would never do. Okay, well, there were a lot of things, but these three were non-negotiable.

First, skinny dipping. An ex-girlfriend told me it was romantic and fun, but we could just as easily get naked and hop in the shower together. See, no clothes and water. Same thing.

Second, karaoke.

And, third, let someone get close enough to break my heart. Been there, done that.

Before you went feeling sorry for me, I didn’t need sympathy. I needed to be smart enough to know that I wasn’t the guy that got the girl.

Izzy threw back her drink before slamming the glass back down. “All right!” she announced and stood. “Let’s do this. Senior year pop meets rock?” she asked her friend.

“You know it!”

“And, Bo, I haven’t forgotten about you,” Izzy said before walking away with Fiona, their arms intertwined. “You need fun in your life. And I accept the challenge.”

I looked from her to Louie, who only tossed his hands up in the air. “No idea, man,” he said when they were out of earshot.

I didn’t understand it, there were millions of women he could’ve picked from. Literally anyone else.

And it wasn’t Fiona. She was great.

It was Izzy.

“You couldn’t get engaged to literally any other woman than that one’s best friend?”

Louie laughed and sat back, his eyes on the stage. “Stop. She’s not that bad,” he replied.

I sighed, my eyes on her, watching as she laughed and smiled. “She’s just so—”

“Cheerful?” Louie supplied. “Yeah, I know. I figured it might just kill you.”

Looking at the bottom of my glass as the liquid hit my lips, I tried, “Maybe it won’t be so bad at the wedding. She’ll be busy with Fiona for most of it, right?”

And the fact that she was the maid of honor and I was the best man and we’d be spending a decent amount of time together did not elude me.