05

Jake

I should really turn around and go to her.

I didn’t like the look of hurt on her face. She deserved to have a smile permanently stay there, lighting up the world around her.

Leave it, Jake. Let her sort it out with him. They’re going to be married in a week, after all.

I didn’t quite know how to describe how I was feeling about all of this tonight.

I was still reeling, I guess, and for a number of reasons.

When I left a couple weeks ago for Bangkok, Brandon was still dating Simone. She seemed like a good match for him—gorgeous, polished manners, financially independent. She was always the kind of woman I thought Brandon would eventually end up with when he was ready to settle down. For all his appreciation of attractive women and convenient relationships, he was the marrying, family-guy kind. He was too much like his father and he doted on his family like no one I knew. And then I came home to what I thought was a prank invite to his engagement party. I went there ready to pull him aside and maybe shake him a little because this was, frankly, a little insane. I’d known the guy for twenty-nine years. He’d never demonstrated this kind of impulsive streak before so clearly, something else was at play here.

Oh, it’s something else, alright.

Brandon was just plain besotted with his fiancée. He couldn’t stop gazing at her, couldn’t stop touching her as if he needed the constant contact. I knew he cared a lot about Simone but how he was with Charlotte was at an entirely different level, no matter how he tried to play it down and pretend it was nothing unusual.

And looking at Charlotte, I could see all the things about her that didn’t match Brandon’s preferences but despite all that, she seemed perfect—just absolutely perfect—for him.

No, she wasn’t a classic beauty like Simone or Anna. Her combined features made for a pretty enough face to an objective eye. What caught you off guard and made you look a second time though was this sense of brightness that just seemed to flow from her—in her sparkling green-eyes that seemed laughing half the time, the impish tilt of her mouth as if she were holding back from saying something mischievous, and her impatient energy as if she needed to be doing something other than stand there and be pretty and polite. She was a stark contrast to the poised, elegant females in Brandon’s history but her playfulness and sense of humor seemed to be the perfect antidote to my friend’s often too-serious view in life.

And that was probably why I didn’t vocalize a single protest even when I’d come to this party armed with a hundred of them.

I was sold—until my bonehead friend thought it was a brilliant idea to invite Simone to the party. Worse, he danced with her. I tried to talk him out of it before Charlotte could spot him but he was adamant that it was harmless. He should’ve seen the hurt on Charlotte’s face and he’d know just how harmless it was.

For a split-second she’d looked crushed and that made my heart ache a little. How could he do that to her ? He should consider himself damn lucky she agreed to marry him. He was going to bask in that light all his life but instead he decided to catch up with Simone who should’ve known better than to make an appearance tonight. She was probably smarting from Brandon’s abrupt change of heart but one look at him and Charlotte should’ve made it very clear that she never had a chance.

Just like you don’t have a chance with Charlotte, Jake.

I rubbed my jaw as I coasted along the quieting night streets, trying to wrap my head around where I stood exactly. I was feeling a bit disoriented, realizing that I was too impressed with my best friend’s fiancee when I had no business to be.

I admired Charlotte right away. Adored her instantly. And I wouldn’t mind being in Brandon’s shoes standing under all that light. But at the same time, I couldn’t reconcile the sight of Charlotte with someone else other than Brandon. That it couldn’t be anyone else making her beam happily like that other than him. The two of them together made such perfect sense—as if they fueled each other’s fire and together, they could only glow.

Warm and fuzzies, alright.

I smiled, remembering Tessa’s comment. She said it at first with such indifference as if the fact bored her. The next second, her temper crackled and her dark, gold-flecked eyes flashed with indignation as she riled me for being the ultimate proof of why she couldn’t give any semblance of love or committed relationships much credit.

She was spectacular in those rare moments when she lost her cool and calm composure and flared hot and angry. It was discomfiting sometimes because it was a Tessa I didn’t know too well but before I could catch her at a standstill and investigate, she’d close up—coolly and calmly as always—and move away. It was a little maddening. Like trying to catch an ember and finding it gone.

My smile mellowed but it didn’t leave my face as I found myself pulling up in front of a familiar condo building. It was late but we had some unfinished business.

I had to take a chance.

« Hey, » I said when she picked up at the third ring. « You still at the party ? »

« No. I went home after you and Charlotte left. »

« Perfect. Wanna grab some ice cream ? »

« What ? All the French dessert they served at the party wasn’t enough ? »

I grinned. « It was all too fancy. I just need some plain old chocolate ice cream from the store. »

« I’m already in pajamas, Jake ! » Despite her reluctance, I could picture out Tessa wrinkling her nose in self-debate. She would never say it out loud but I could always see her rationalizing her actions, as if she detested doing anything she didn’t plan on but craved a little bit of that spontaneity. She would never do it on her own so someone else had to prod her into it. Which was why I occasionally called her up to grab some random food. Tonight just happened to be the only time that it was late and probably inconvenient. But she needed to loosen up and stop hating me after her mild outburst earlier tonight and I needed company. She was one of the few girls I knew who wouldn’t spin a late night drive for ice cream into a soap-operatic romance.

« Put your robe on and come downstairs. We’ll stop by at a convenience store where no one knows us and we’ll sit in the car and eat, » I told her, imagining the look of horror in her face at my suggestion.

« No, Jake. »