“Hardly,” Jason scoffs. “If he wasn’t grounded, he’d already have another girlfriend.”
“What exactly are we discussing?”
We all turn to Beth as she approaches. We all grin at her because the woman demands the attention of the room. As the only girl, we’ve all taken on the duty of protecting her, even Gannon and I, who are younger than her.
“Your deviant nephew,” Jason says as he stands to give her a hug.
Beth makes her rounds, accepting hugs from each of us, as well as Brooks, and they continue to talk about Jace and all the ways he seems to be challenging his parents.
My eyes land on Jules across the room. Her head is thrown back in a laugh, the flawless column of her neck drawing my attention as she laughs with my parents. The woman has been a fixture in our family for the better part of fifteen years, and I think I’ve had feelings for her just as long.
A feminine snort comes from my side, and I look over to find Beth watching me watch her friend. She smiles, shaking her head as if I’m a toddler lusting after an ice cream sundae.
The only difference is that if a child threw a big enough fit, they’d get a taste of that damn sundae. I, on the other hand, will never get a taste of Jules Warren.
Chapter 2
Jules
What is it about weddings that make you think things that should never cross your mind?
It’s Thursday, and I’m forty-eight hours from standing with my best friend as she marries the love of her life.
Maybe it’s the unconditional love rolling off both Spencer and Beth that makes the air filling the room seem magical.
Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t been touched by a man in so long.
That has to be it.
I’m just horny.
There’s no other reason for my eyes to continue to wander in Kit’s direction.
There’s no other explanation as to why I get tingles each and every damn time I hear his laughter or the deep baritone of his voice.
I’ve known the man for years and years. I’ve heard that sultry laugh and seen that brilliant smile more times than I can count.
There are other options here. Spencer has invited every friend he’s ever made to help celebrate his nuptials, and because the man has never met a stranger, that means the room is filled with countless eligible bachelors. Two of his groomsmen have hit on me, one going as far as to flat out invite me back to his room once the mixer is over.
Yet, my eyes keep straying to Kit Riggs, the only unmarried brother of my best friend, the only single man in the room that carries a prohibited sign.
He’s always had the scruff along his chiseled jawline. The tattoos painting both arms have always been present.
But somehow, this evening, those things are making my head run wild with the prospect of what that scruff would feel like on my skin and what his marked skin would look like against my own.
I shake my head, turning up my glass and draining it. The drinks are going down a little too easily tonight, but I know I can’t get drunk. Doing so would lead to things that aren’t allowed.
It’s bad enough that I’ve let the insidious thought of hooking up with my best friend’s brother enter my head more than once before today. I had a plan, and then I rejected it almost as quickly as it entered my mind.
Then I thought of it again and again and again, each time struggling more and more with shoving it away.
My eyes flutter closed when his laughter meets my ears once again.
Instead of picturing Kit naked in my head, I think of my best friend and how things will be different after this weekend. I know things will change. Marriage does that to a person. Her focus will be on her husband and the family they’ll start to build. I’m ecstatic for her, but it also doesn’t stop the feeling of loss that has settled inside of me over the months and months of planning for her big day.
I’m no longer going to be her number one person. That’s going to be Spencer’s job, and I know that’s how it’s supposed to be. I’d never begrudge her that connection. I’m just a little sad at my own loss.
I know I’m as irreplaceable to her as she is to me, and I just need to focus on that.
“Another white wine spritzer?”
A practiced smile spreads across my face as I look up at the tuxedo-clad waiter, but just as I open my mouth to tell him yes, I catch the eyes of Kit.
He’s watching me, but that’s nothing new. When the man is in my presence, he always seems to be looking my way, more so tonight than in recent years. He’s watched me like I was the moon in his cloudless sky from the time he was thirteen until the day my mother died. His attention was diverted then, and I know that’s my fault.