“That sounds like a good idea. I don’t want to be the one bringing bad energy to Cristina’s wedding week. Let’s be civil.”
“Civil it is. We’ll give it the old college try.” There’s a trace of a smile on his face as I’m pretty sure we both mentally revisit a few choice things we tried together in college.
“Just out of curiosity,” I ask, “what brought around this sudden change of heart?”
He picks up his beer and takes another sip. “I don’t want to mess with anything Jason has going on this week, and my reason for annoying you seems trivial in comparison.”
“And what reason is that?”
He pauses, seeming to reconsider something before saying, “That even after all this time, I’m still so mad at you.”
I look away at his words, watching as a couple gets seated at a small table in the back of the dining room. They’re holding hands and the man is laughing at something the woman said. I’m oddly irked by them.
“Fine,” I say, turning back to face him. “And for the record, a big part of me is still mad at you, too.”
“I guess we’re even, then.” He’s staring at me with something more than just annoyance when I notice Cristina waving us over.
“Our table is ready.” My voice is as biting as winter wind and I make no effort to stop my shoulder from bumping into his as I push past. I can sense him walking behind me a few seconds later as I follow Cristina, Jason and the hostess into the dining area.
We arrive at our rectangular booth and the happy couple sits next to each other, leaving me and Ryan to slide in side by side. Once settled into our seats, it doesn’t take long for me to realize that sitting next to Ryan is going to be a problem. The booth is tight and his upper arm touches mine no matter how I position myself. Considering our somewhat hostile greeting, I don’t think he’s doing it intentionally, but maybe he is.
Maybe I want him to.
I bang my shoulder into the wall as my last thought jolts me into whipping away from Ryan’s arm, shifting sharply in the booth to break the contact. Ryan doesn’t look at me, but his back straightens as he keeps his eyes glued to the menu.
“Well,” Cristina says, no doubt sensing our awkwardness. “I don’t know about you guys, but Jason and I are starting with the gnocchi mac ’n’ cheese. I would bathe in that stuff if I could work out the logistics.”
Neither of us says anything and Cristina clears her throat as she goes on, “Okay then, how about we talk wedding business instead?” She reaches into the tote bag beside her and slams her thick wedding binder onto the table, rattling the cutlery and glasses.
“Yes,” I agree, inching closer to the table. “I cross-checked the seating chart before I left, and all two hundred and eighty guests are accounted for.”
Ryan lets out a slow whistle at the final head count. This wedding is no joke. I nearly fainted in relief when Cristina asked if it would be okay for her cousin to give the toast at the reception instead of me, since I usurped her by becoming maid of honor. The mere thought of speaking in front of that many people had me instantly scouring the internet for a doppelgänger to recite the speech in my stead. This is New York City, after all—I bet it could have been doable.
“Also, I’m picking up my dress from the tailor on Tuesday. It’s only a couple of blocks away from the bridal salon, so if you need me to grab anything for you or any of the other bridesmaids, just let me know.”
“Perfect.” Cristina opens the binder and pulls out a pen. “The big day is almost here and it’s imperative we all keep our focus.”
Jason looks at me with a trace of fear and I take a big sip of my water. This is going to be a long night.
An hour later, our main courses are brought out and we have only just finished reviewing our nuptial responsibilities for the week. Cristina had no trouble laying down the law as Jason and Ryan jumped in every now and then with baiting comments. I just tried to enjoy the bread basket and not make any sudden movements.
“So, Ryan, tell us about how you and Kara met.” Jason is smiling as he looks at us over his pork chop, blissfully unaware that his question just dropped onto the table like an unpinned grenade.
My fork stops in midair.
“I know you guys dated for a bit, but how did it all get started?”
My eyes dart to Cristina and she gets the message. She’s a second away from changing the subject when Ryan quietly rests his fork down on his plate.
“We had a class together my junior year,” he says.
“And you guys just started talking?”
“Sort of. I sat down next to her and pulled the romance novel she was reading out of her hands.”
“Did you really?” Jason asks. “Well, that’s one way to go about things. Did you always steal girls’ books?”
“Not usually, no.”
“So Kara was special, then.”
I think Jason is trying to kill me.
Ryan doesn’t answer and I’m ashamed to say that his silence scrapes at my pride.
“Or maybe it had nothing to do with me,” I decide to say. “Maybe he was just an obnoxious guy who liked to bother innocent girls.”
Ryan laughs to himself and sits back farther in the booth, pivoting to face me and boxing me in.
“That’s funny, coming from the most uptight eighteen-year-old that ever lived.”
“I was not uptight.”
“You almost clawed my eyes out like a crazed possum when I didn’t give the book back.”
“That’s because it was personal.”
“It was personal because you were reading literary porn.”
“It was a historical romance!”
“My mistake,” he says calmly. “It was literary porn masquerading as historical romance.”
“Stop calling it porn. That’s not what it is.”
“That’s
