“Of course I do, Sebastian. I … I thought you’d changed your mind.”
I shook my head slowly, pulling her more tightly against my body.
“Never that, Caro, but I didn’t want to marry you if … if I couldn’t be a man … with you. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be using a fucking stick when I walked down the aisle.”
“They don’t have aisles in City Hall,” she cried out, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
I rocked her slowly, repeatedly kissing her hair. I can’t deny I was fucking relieved by her reaction.
“So what else did Ches say?” she mumbled into my chest.
“He said that he’d decided if he still hadn’t heard from me by Labor Day, he was going to come out here and kick my ass himself.”
“Good idea,” she agreed with a murmur, “he should do that anyway. Did he say anything about me?”
I couldn’t help smiling at the note of insecurity I heard in her voice; it was so unlike Caro. She’d been so strong through all the shit I’d given her the last few months.
“I guess he was surprised—and pleased, I think—that you hadn’t kicked me out. He’s cool, Caro, don’t worry about him.”
“And Amy?”
“Oh, she just wants to kick my ass, period.”
I felt her smile. “I think I’ll get along with her.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered, only half joking.
I held her face gently and looked into her eyes.
“Just promise me you won’t turn into one of those bat-shit crazy women about the whole wedding thing, Caro.”
“Such sweet nothings you whisper,” she teased me. “Don’t worry, Sebastian, that’s not my style.” Then she slapped my chest. “I don’t care if I get married in jeans.”
“Jeans?” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Well, my favorite jeans,” she replied, with a challenging stare.
“Okay, jeans. Cool.”
“Now, let me finish cooking or we’ll have nothing to serve our guests.”
I looked at the mound of food already prepared in the kitchen and shook my head. I also wasn’t too sure that they were ‘our’ guests, and I definitely didn’t think I was going to get along with them. They were older, older than Caro, and they’d all been to college and earned a ton of money in the city. They’d wonder what she was doing with some unemployed grunt with a crippled leg.
She said they’d only care that she was happy, but even that was a comment that cut me to the core, because I knew how fucking miserable she’d been when I’d been giving her crap. And I also knew she’d been talking to them. I didn’t blame her for that, but with everything stacked against me, I was pretty sure they’d hate my guts. I would if I were her friends.
Yeah, I was a pessimistic son of a bitch.
But there was something else that I hadn’t told Caro because it would upset her; they sounded exactly like the kind of women I used to hit on when I was single—tough, career women who told themselves they’d never fall for me—older women who reminded me of Caro.
Shit, it was going to be a long day.
As soon as we heard a car pull up, Caro leaned out the window, waving and looking excited. I wanted her to be happy, but I couldn’t help muttering, “Incoming.”
She ignored me and ran out the door. I stayed standing in the living room, not sure what to do. I guess I thought it would be best if I let her greet her friends by herself.
They started squawking before they’d even climbed out of the car.
“Oh my God! It’s so good to see you, Lee!”
It kinda pissed me off that they called her ‘Lee’, as well.
“You’ve lost weight, beotch!” one of them shrieked.
“I’ve brought chocolate and champagne,” said another.
Thank fuck there were only three of them.
And then one of them screamed at a level that sent dogs barking.
“Omigod! Omigod! Is that what I think it is?”
I glanced through the window, sizing up the enemy. I could see they were all staring at Caro’s engagement ring. Then I heard her quiet voice.
“You guys are all invited to a wedding in the Fall.”
Then there was more screeching and hugging and shit. The screaming was making me tense. It was too much like … I blocked it out.
I was still standing in the middle of the living room when Caro walked in with her friends. She introduced everyone calmly, and they pretended they weren’t judging me already.
Nicole was the chick I’d talked to when we were in Italy. She was the rich bitch banker—and the one with voice like nails on a chalkboard.
Jenna was the attorney and her eyes narrowed when she saw me, probably wondering if she’d seen me in front of the judge.
Only the one named Alice looked as though she’d give me the benefit of the doubt. I think Caro said she was a professor at NYU. She probably thought I was dumber than dirt.
But then I caught Nicole checking me out. Gotta say that felt pretty good—it had been a while.
They all sat down, looking more at ease in Caro’s living room than I did. I was marooned in the middle of the floor and I’d left my walking stick by my chair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I limped across the room, praying I wouldn’t fall over, feeling their eyes all over me. Then I collapsed into my chair and everyone went quiet. It was fucking painful. But Caro came and sat on the arm of my chair, leaning against me, so I could rest my hand on her knee. I needed to be able to touch her, and I think she knew that.
“Well, you know what I’ve been doing,” she said calmly. “I want to know what all of you’ve been up to.”
Gradually the conversation began to flow: for them. They talked about people I didn’t know; bars and restaurants and galleries that I’d never been to; books I’d never even heard of, let alone read.
But then the thin one, Alice, turned to me.
“Lee says you were thinking about going back to school?”
“Um…”
“What are you interested in?”
Good fucking question.
“I was going to study Italian and English Lit,” I said, “but that kinda got interrupted.” I glanced at Caro, not sure how much she’d told her friends about how and when we’d met. “But I don’t know now.”
I sounded completely lame.
“Lee says you speak several Arab languages, too.”
“Plus French,” Caro added.
I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes. They were all staring at me, waiting for my reply. “Well, yeah,” I admitted. “I can speak Arabic, but I don’t read it well.”
“Could that be something for you?” Alice asked.
I shrugged. “I thought maybe I’d look into some paralegal studies. I’ve kinda been helping out a neighbor who’s got immigration problems.”
“You didn’t tell me about that idea, Sebastian,” Caro said, sounding surprised, but pleased.
“I haven’t decided anything yet, Caro, I’m still thinking about it.”
“Well, there’s plenty of time—you don’t have to decide now,” she said brightly—more for their benefit, I thought.
“No, I can just continue sponging off you,” I sneered.
There was an ugly silence, and I could have kicked myself for being such a douche. I mean, yeah, that’s what I really thought, but even I knew this wasn’t the time to bring it up.
Caro’s friends looked embarrassed. Good job, Hunter.
“Sebastian, no,” said Caro, sounding upset.
“It’s what all your friends are thinking, Caro,” I grit out, unable to stop once I’d started down that road. “I can see it in their eyes.”
“Don’t assume you know what I’m thinking,” snapped Jenna.
“I agree,” said Nicole evenly. “Because I was actually thinking that nearly dying in the service of your country earns you the right to have some time off—and if my friend is having as many orgasms as she says she is, you must be doing something right.”
What the actual fuck?
“Is that what she said?” I muttered, glancing over to Caro, before looking back at Nicole.
“I’m paraphrasing, of course,” she snipped, meeting my gaze.