Authors: Carey Heywood
My evil best friend laughs and the pain that results in my head is what I imagine a train rolling over my forehead might feel like.
“I hate you,” I groan.
She drank twice as much as I did last night and is no worse for the wear. Reilly Whitmore can drink men twice her size under the table and wake up the next morning ready to do an Ironman while posing for the cover of a magazine.
She offers me her hand, which I gratefully accept, and she helps me to my feet. My walk over to my bed is far from graceful. My back is hunched with the hope of somehow keeping my torso compressed to not anger my stomach further, and my steps are cautious to keep the thudding in my head at a manageable level.
Reilly has threatened on more than one occasion to record my walk of shame from my toilet to my bed. She’s positive it’s viral video gold. Thankfully, I invoked BFF rights and made her swear on the bonds of our friendship, and under threat I’d tell Brendan Lowell she was the one who stole all of his boxer shorts during the house party he held in tenth grade, that she wouldn’t do it.
My bed is blissfully soft in comparison to the tile floor of my bathroom. If I don’t move for the next six hours, I might be human again by tonight.
“Do I get to be your maid of honor?”
What?
Squinting one eye open at her I ask, “Huh?”
“Do I get to be your maid of honor?” She repeats.
Years ago, we both pledged to be each other’s maids of honor so I’m not sure why she’s bringing it up now.
“Sure,” I mumble, closing my eye in the hopes that she’ll go away.
“Have you picked out a date yet?”
My pillow is my new best friend. It’s soft, smells nice, and does not talk to me while I’m hung over. I start to tell her this but she interrupts me.
“I think a spring wedding would be best.”
Turning on to my back I grumble, “Why are you talking about weddings?”
She plops down onto my bed making me groan against the movement. “Because, Heath Mackey asked you to marry him last night and you said yes.”
Bolting upright, I gape at her, then I realize my stomach is not as empty as I thought it was. She jumps out of my way as I dash back to the bathroom.
When I’m done worshipping the porcelain goddess, I sink back onto my butt. Turning back toward my room, I find Reilly leaning against the doorjamb of my bathroom staring down at me.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
She shakes her head.
Standing unassisted this time, I search for my phone. It’s still in my purse, which I dumped on the floor next to the door of my bedroom. Once it’s in my hand I scroll down to Heath’s number and press call.
He answers after one ring. “Hey, Ace.”
I ignore his greeting. “Are we engaged?”
There’s a pause.
“Heath?” I ask, my eyes locking on Reilly’s.
“I figured you changed your mind,” he replies after a beat.
His tone is so dejected it surprises me.
“You know me and alcohol. Last night is all blurry,” I start.
He cuts me off. “I’m coming over. I’ll be there in five.”
“Wait,” I begin but he’s already disconnected.
Dropping my phone onto my bed I groan, “Shit.”
Reilly steps into my path. “What did he say?”
Moving around her, I head back to my bathroom and turn on the shower. My hangover is long gone, banished by my mortification. There is no way I’m talking to Heath in yesterday’s clothes and with vomit breath. Leaving the door ajar so I can still talk with Reilly, I strip and hop in the shower.
“Heath is on his way over.”
The hot water is equal parts heaven and hell against my sore head. After the fastest shower known to man, I pull on my robe and hurriedly brush my teeth. Reilly is watching me with an amused expression when we hear a knock at the door.
“That must be him. Can you let him in while I throw on some clothes?”
She doesn’t argue, for once, and goes to the front door of our apartment. With little care as to what I’m pulling on, I get dressed. It’s not long before I hurry out into the living room to join them.
Heath looks as put together as Reilly does. Being a lightweight is not fair. His blond hair is tousled in that just rolled out of bed or a woman had her hands in his hair kind of way. He has that preppy-guy-who-still-surfs-every-weekend look going for him.
He looks in my direction as I approach, a guilty expression on his face. That sets me on edge. Reilly is perched on one side of our couch; the spot closest to the chair Heath is sitting in is open for me.
“What happened last night?” I ask, my gaze focused on Heath.
He presses his full lips together before he answers, “We got engaged.”
Lifting my hands, I point to my ring finger. “No, we didn’t. See, no ring.”
Shaking his head, he reaches for my hands, lowers them to my lap, and leaves his hands resting on them. “It’s the perfect solution to all our problems.”
Tugging my hands out from under his, I fold my arms across my chest. He pulls his hands away.
“Hear me out, Ace,” he goes on.
Lifting my brows in response is the only invitation I give.
“You know what’s going on with my mom, plus getting married will once and for all stop people in town from giving you grief about Jake.”
My lungs react before my brain can. I suck in air, my chest expanding before my brain has a chance to explode.
“That’s insane. I’m not going to get married just because I’m the town joke.”
Reilly butts in at this point. “No one thinks you’re a joke.”
My eyes slice to hers. “Bullshit.”
She opens her mouth to argue but I keep going, “You aren’t with me all the time. You don’t hear the whispers or see the looks of pity I get.”
“Kace,” she murmurs but says no more.
“Exactly,” Heath cuts in. “If we get married all of that will go away.”
My brows furrow as I consider his words. After I moment I disagree, “People know I’ve gone out on dates. That’s never stopped them before.”
He leans forward, his elbows coming to rest on his firm thighs. “There’s a big difference between dating and getting married.”
“You’re crazy.” I turn my head to look at Reilly. “He’s crazy.”
She stands. “She’s right. What may have seemed brilliant when you guys were both blitzed is insane. Your mom and Jake aren’t reasons to marry someone.”
Gesturing toward Reilly, I keep my eyes on Heath. “What Reilly said, besides, don’t you want to marry someone you’re in love with?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think being married to you would suck. You’re only mildly crazy compared to most girls and I wouldn’t kick you out of bed. And it would make my mom so happy. I might not love you but I do care about you and I think I’d make a good husband.”
Flying off the couch, I move closer to where Reilly stands and turn to face Heath. “I don’t want a good husband.”
He wrinkles his forehead in confusion.
“No, that came out wrong. I want a fantastic husband.”
I want Jake.
No, giving myself a mental shake I banish that thought.
I press my balled up fists to my chest as Reilly sets her hand sympathetically on my back. “I want someone who loves me, really and truly loves me.”
Heath’s eyes soften and he moves to stand in front of me, wrapping his arms around me and, with my hands still between us, hugs me to him.
“Maybe in time I could be that for you, Ace.”
“Why do you call me that?” I ask.
Heath isn’t the only person who has ever called me Ace, but he does it the most.
“It fits you. I’ve always thought you were special.”
Wow. That was unexpectedly sweet.
Gulping, I lift my eyes to his. One of his hands moves to brush away a tear I didn’t realize escaped. In slow motion, I watch him lower his head. Both of our eyes are open as he gently presses his lips to mine.
My hands turn, my fingers opening and closing again, this time clutching at the cotton of his faded tee. He doesn’t pull away and I watch in complete fascination as his eyes close. Before I know it, his tongue is pressing against the seam of my lips. Curious at the spark blooming within me, I open my mouth for him.
He wastes no time and deepens the kiss, his arms now crushing me to his chest.
Holy Shit.
Before I have a chance to fully lose myself to his kiss, the sound of Reilly clearing her throat behind me brings me back to earth. My heart pounds so loudly I wonder if Heath can hear it when I pull back. My eyes are on his face and when his eyes open, I’m surprised at the blatant hunger in them.
Could this actually work?
We’ve only ever been friends. He takes a step back, his expression moving from hungry to surprised. He clearly wasn’t expecting our kiss to go molten.
For the first time in my life, I take the time to truly consider the hotness that is Heath Mackey, and he is seriously hot. I was too wrapped up in Jake to ever notice him. Jake Whitmore has been the only guy I’ve wanted for the last twenty years. It took that long for me to finally get that he was never going to want me the same way.
Have I been overlooking the guy I’m actually meant to be with this whole time?
“I need to think about it,” I breathe.
He pushes his lips together and I wonder if he can still taste me. His taste, the feel of his firm lips, his clean soapy scent, and the warm hardness of his body are still wreaking havoc across my senses.
He starts to close the distance between us before stopping himself. “How long?”
“Heath,” is all I can say in response.
Getting it, he nods. “Let me know.”
“I will.”
He hesitates before moving toward the door.
After opening it, still standing in the threshold, he looks back at me. “When you think about it, think about that kiss. If you need any more convincing we could be good together,” his eyes slowly shift down my body before moving back to meet mine, “let me know.”
I stare at the now closed door for a full minute before I can look away. Reilly’s watching eyes are waiting for me when I turn.
“Did I semi make out with Heath Mackey?”
She solemnly nods.
Palm to my chest I murmur, “I just kissed Heath Mackey.”
She nods again and adds, “Front row seat, babe.”
Making my way over to the couch I sink down onto it before I say, “It was a seriously good kiss.”
“Better than—“She starts but stops when my eyes slice to hers.
There is no way we’re discussing that right now.
Moving on. “What should I do?”
Her eyes widen. “Are you seriously considering it?”
Shrugging, I glance at my feet.
She moves to sit next to me. “You can’t marry Heath fucking Mackey.”
My head snaps up. “What’s wrong with Heath?”
Shaking her head she replies, “There’s nothing wrong with Heath except for the fact that you don’t love him. Date him, fine. Feel each other out and then after a year or two get engaged.”
“But his mom,” I argue.
She bumps my knee with hers. “Heath should not have put that on you.”
Mrs. Mackey was a nice woman, and living in a small town we all knew things weren’t looking good for her health wise. Reilly was right that I shouldn’t take her wanting to see Heath get married before she died as my responsibility. That didn’t stop me from feeling sorry for her and wanting to help.
“We could always get divorced.”
She smacks my arm in response and even I know I deserved it.
“You don’t understand what it’s like,” I sigh.
Her arm moves to wrap around my shoulders and tug me to her. We’ve been friends since forever, growing up on the same street together. My dad still lives on that street, not that I visit him anymore, and Reilly and Jake’s grandparent’s house is still diagonally across the street from it.
Renters live there now. After their grandparents passed away, Jake found out how underwater it was in comparison to the rest of the market. They couldn’t sell it and they didn’t want the bank to foreclose on it. That house and Reilly’s tuition were the reasons Jake went away. He got a job working on an oilrig off of Santa Barbara making bank to cover both.
Stop thinking about Jake I command myself.
“This is too extreme, babe,” is her reply.
She wasn’t the town joke, though. In fact, since she’s a lifestyle reporter for our local news channel she’s basically a celebrity in town. Not only is she outgoing and drop dead gorgeous, she has never been the butt of a joke. While I don’t doubt she knows some of what I go through, she’ll never fully understand it looking in from the outside.
I’m not sure I want to risk losing a good thing. Heath Mackey is a good thing. He’s not only hot as hell, but he’s also a good guy with a great job who cares about his family and friends. And after that kiss, and the way Heath looked at me, it felt so unbelievably good to be wanted.
Reilly has dated plenty of great guys who were sexy as hell. I haven’t.
That means she’ll never understand what it feels like when the cute guys around town look knowingly at each other when they see me. Or what the girls Jake dated mutter under their breath every single time I’m within earshot. Even the nice ones who don’t say anything look at me with pity.
If I were married to Heath that would all go away. People would stop thinking there was something wrong with me. Based on that kiss, maybe we could even be happy together.
“I need to think about it,” I grumble before standing and heading toward our kitchen.
I need some ibuprofen and a cup of Earl Grey. The worst of my hangover may have been gone but that didn’t mean I didn’t still have a headache. Thinking about Heath’s idea makes it pound.
Reilly silently watches me. Once my tea is made and my ibuprofen taken, I make my way back over to her.
She waits until I sit to say, “You can’t do this.”
“Why not?” I argue.
Cocking her head, she smirks. “You can’t even sleep with a guy you don’t love, how are you going to marry one?”
After taking a fortifying sip of my tea, I reply, “I love Heath.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Since when?”
“I love him like a friend.”
Her face relaxes. “That’s not the same thing.”