I try to keep my voice down, realizing that people are starting to stare, “It’s not okay.”
“You were drunk,” she interrupts, “I get it. We don’t need to go there.”
I have to stop myself from responding, remembering how I felt with my arm around her waist, and I ache to touch her. I was drunk, I remember, but I also remember how I felt. It wasn’t how I should’ve felt when moments prior, I should’ve been marrying someone else. Instead of scaring her away again, I try and patch it up.
“So we’re good?”
She nods, her hair bouncing in soft waves down her back.
“Come eat with us,” I smile, reaching my hand out. Trying extremely hard not to smile as I think about how this isn’t the first time I’ve chased someone away from her. She has the worst luck with men.
She hesitates for a split second, but reluctantly, she takes it. The warmth of her touch kickstarts my heart.
CHAPTER 3
KARLY
Oh my God.
This night literally could not get any worse! My date for the night told me he didn’t like Taylor Swift or Britney Spears. I mean, one I could deal with, but both? Just no. Hard pass. Not to mention, he kept trying to touch me under the table. He gave me all the wrong vibes, which was pretty evident to the entire restaurant.
To top it off, Eric is standing directly in front of me with his hand outstretched like nothing happened the night of his wedding. But it did, and the thought made my stomach flip because I wanted it to happen, and I wanted him.
Sober. Completely fucking sober.
I take his hand that he’s offering because it would look worse if I didn’t, and follow him across the restaurant to his table. I can feel my cheeks turning a little pink when everyone turns to look my way.
“Jolene, this is my family,” He smiles, pulling out an empty chair next to him. “Sit, and you can eat with us.”
I smile, shifting my weight in my heels, “It’s Karly, and no. I don’t want to crash your family dinner. It’s very nice to meet you, though, officially.”
“Nonsense.” His mother, I presume, smiles, “Have a seat, dear.”
I give Eric an unsure smile and sit in the chair next to him, setting my clutch down on the table.
“I’m Emma,” a tiny, dark-haired girl seated on the other side of Eric says, “I’m his sister, and this is my husband, Ty.”
“And we’re the mom and dad,” his dad chortles, “but to others, we’re just Grace and Rich. Rich like Richard but not Richard like dick.”
I laugh so loud that I nearly drag all the attention to our table, “That was a pretty good intro,” I giggle, “I’m Karly.”
“Why the hell were you calling her Jolene, Eric?” Emma questions.
I roll my eyes and speak before Eric can. “He’s called me that forever. It’s ’cause I’m a ginger.”
“How long have you two known each other?” His mother asks.
“Uh,” Eric thinks, “I guess as long as I’ve known Hanna. They are best friends.”
I suddenly feel awkward. His family must be so upset over Hanna.
“How did you and Hanna meet?” Emma asks, the question catching me a little off guard. I figured they’d want to avoid her, not make her the subject of discussion.
“We met in college,” I start, “I worked at the coffee shop, and we had a couple of classes together. We hit it off pretty quickly. She is the exact opposite of me, so we even each other out.”
“Ahhhh,” Emma understands, “I get that completely. I kept telling Eric that he and Hanna were too similar. See, Ty and I are complete opposites. I’m loud, and he’s quiet. Ty is neat, and I’m a mess. We compliment each other.”
Eric pulls his whiskey sour to his lips and finishes it, but I sit, unsure what to say.