My foot taps nervously, unsettled and restless. I know I’m unable to answer the stream of questions being thrown at me, certain I’ll say something wrong. “It’s what’s in the cards, right?”
Raine snuggles into my side, resting her head against my chest while we stare at the couple finishing up in front. “What if the cards being dealt are wrong? That you’re just settling with what’s comfortable? You said yourself that Zoey couldn’t possibly understand how stressful your career is. Don’t you think you should be with someone who does understand?”
I go to open my mouth when Troy walks in alone. He sees me with my arm around Raine. His face tightens filled with annoyance. Peeling myself away from her, we sit quietly as I smile back at him.
“We’re heading back to the bar for a drink.” It’s a statement rather than a question of whether I want to join them.
“I think I’ll stay here. I’ve drunk too much.”
“I can see. I really think you should come.” Troy’s eyes widen unable to hide his displeasure in seeing me with another woman.
“Oh, shit. This is Raine, a colleague of mine.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says with a forced smile. “I think you should come.”
“I’m fine here.”
Troy continues to persuade me, then suggests we talk in private. Raine tells me sh
e’s heading back to room five and to join her when I’m done. I nod, then wait for her to leave the room, watching her ass sway while she walks away.
“What the fuck was that? You’re fucking someone else?” he shouts.
“Of course not. I’d never do that to Zoey.”
“Bullshit. I walk into you sitting with your arm around a hot girl at a sex club.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“What I think is that you’re getting cold feet and playing with fucking fire. Zoey will have your ass if she finds out—”
“That nothing happened!” I yell back fueled by the scotch. “Zoey doesn’t fucking care anymore. Her head is in this wedding. She’s not Zoey. She’s some sort of monster who’s morphed from the fun-loving Zoey. I’m only here, so she has someone nice to walk down the aisle with.
“C’mon,” he softens. “You don’t mean that.”
“She’s fucking that guy at work.”
“Who? Slater? Why would she be fucking someone at work and planning a wedding with you?”
“Because she’s not the real Zoey. I told you—”
“Man, wake up and get out of this funk. You’re fucking drunk for starters, and that girl… she just wants to suck your cock. Prove to you that you can stray.”
“It would be nice to have my cock sucked,” I utter, purposely as an attack on Zoey.
“Okay.” He grabs my arm, the pressure tight and unnecessary. “Time to go home.”
“I don’t wanna go home.”
“Then I can’t help you. Do whatever the fuck you want to do and lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
Troy storms out of the room leaving me alone and staring at an empty bed through the glass window. I should have followed him, gone home and tried to work things out with Zoey. But instead, I find myself walking toward room five looking for a way—or person—to clear my head.
Someone to help me decide if marrying Zoey is the right thing to do.
Chapter Eight
Zoey