Drew pointed and went back to munching on chips and listening to Lucy and Brendan talk about surfing. Forlorn? He wasn’t forlorn. It was possible he would prefer Alexa to be standing next to him than over on the other side of the party talking to three strange men, but he wasn’t forlorn.
He watched Carlos approach her group and tap her on the shoulder. Alexa threw her arms around Carlos and beamed her hundred-watt smile at him and absorbed him in her cozy little group. Drew waited for her to look around for him. She was probably just waiting to catch his eye to signal to him to come join them. But she didn’t turn her head.
Alexa was glad she hadn’t tried to have the Talk with Drew before coming to the party. She would have made some humiliating speech about how she felt about him and how she wanted a relationship with him, and he would have looked at her with pity in his eyes.
She’d always known what the deal was. That was the worst part. She’d known from the beginning who and what he was—he’d told her so. What did she think, someone like her was going to change him?
She kept trying to snap out of it, to give herself a mental pep talk. But every time she caught a glimpse of Drew standing next to Kat, his hot blond “running buddy,” she needed more sangria to wash down the bitter taste of shame.
Thank God at least no one knew. She hadn’t told Drew how she felt, and she was almost certain she’d managed to keep her face relaxed and jokey in the kitchen with the other women. She wouldn’t be able to handle their sympathy on top of the sadness that she knew was hovering in the back of her eyes.
It would be so much easier if she could be mad at Drew. But Drew had done nothing wrong. He’d been perfectly honest with her the whole time. It was her own fault for making up stories in her head about what it meant that he looked at her this way or touched her that way or had that tone in his voice when he talked to her.
Twenty-four hours until her plane left LAX. She could keep pushing that sadness in its little box for twenty-four hours until she’d be able to let it out.
She kept unconsciously looking around the party for a friendly face. Someone familiar, who she could relax around, not be so on with, just be herself. Someone who she didn’t have to smile and fake it with. But the only person like that was Drew, and looking at him hurt now.
After another glass of sangria, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned.
“Carlos!” Finally, someone she’d known more than an hour. “I was hoping you were going to be here. How’ve you been?” She hugged him, not sure if the tears that shot to her eyes during the hug were because she was glad to see him, or because of the sangria. Probably a little of both. At least she’d get to say good-bye to Carlos. He’d been so nice to her.
“Great.” He toasted her plastic cup with his bottle of beer, his arm slung around her shoulder. “I knew you’d be here, Drew’s found ways to mention you all week.”
She looked down at her cup. Sure he had.
Drew came over to join their group, but this time she saw him coming, so she could dodge his touch without being obvious about it. She couldn’t handle that warm, firm touch on her back or around her waist right now. She’d taken such comfort in it, thought it meant so much.
But it had turned out to mean nothing at all. Instead of soothing her, now it made her angry. Mostly at herself.
She left Drew and Carlos behind and walked with Lucy to get more of the white sangria. Intellectually, she knew that she should probably stop drinking so much, but following Lucy was a good way to escape. As was the sangria itself.
Was it his imagination that Alexa was avoiding him? Probably. It was probably his imagination. But the thing was, for the past hour, she’d walked around with Heather and Emma, and Robin and Lucy, and chatted with a whole group of guys he’d never met. Every time he walked up to her, she’d moved when he’d touched her and had some reason to walk away after a minute or so.
He left her alone for a while and talked to other people, but he was always aware of where she was and who she was talking to. He told himself it was just so he could rescue her from Mike if necessary. Even in his head he knew that wasn’t true.
Finally, he saw her standing alone over by the drinks table and walked toward her, determined to figure out what was wrong. Before he could get there, Carlos came up to her, threw an arm around her, and said something in her ear that made her laugh so hard he could hear it from across the backyard. When he reached the two of them, they were both still giggling.
“Hey guys, having fun over here?” He reached for Alexa’s hand, but she switched her drink from her left to right. She’d looked in his direction but turned back to Carlos, the smile still on her face but no longer in her eyes.
Carlos grinned at him, but was that guilt in his face? What was Carlos whispering to his girlfriend about, anyway?
“Yeah, we were just talking . . . about the party,” Carlos said, flashing his eyes back toward Alexa. They shared a grin that made Drew feel like a third wheel.
“You two are looking kind of cozy. What are you, planning your escape so you can be alone together?” Drew joked. Except somehow it didn’t really come out like a joke.
Alexa looked straight at him for what felt like the first time that afternoon.
“Was that some kind of accusation? Because it felt like it.”
Carlos’s arm dropped from around Alexa’s shoulders. Drew felt a flash of anger that it had been there in the first place, especially when she hadn’t wanted him to touch her all day.
“Looks like I struck a nerve.” Why did he even say that? He didn’t really believe something was going on with Carlos and Alexa . . . did he?
“I don’t know, Drew,” Alexa shot back. “You planning your escape from me so you can figure out which of the women here will be your new ‘friend’? I can go home now so you don’t have an inconvenient sandwich at this buffet.”
Okay, something was definitely wrong.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Drew said.
Alexa’s lips curved into what some people might think was a smile.
“Pretty much exactly what I said.” She took the last sip of her drink and put it down. “Wait, you probably don’t remember—in this instance, the sandwich and the buffet are a metaphor for—”
“I know what it’s a fucking metaphor for, Alexa. I remember. What’s your problem today?”
“Good luck with this,” Carlos muttered from behind him as he backed away.
“What’s my problem today?” Alexa wasn’t even pretending to smile anymore. “My problem is that I’m tired of meeting all of your perfectly nice friends who are checking my forehead for my Drew Nichols expiration date. It was cute at the wedding, but it’s not fun or funny for me anymore, especially since I have a strong feeling that my expiration date is July 5th.”
He grabbed her hand hard enough that she couldn’t pull away and marched her into Heather’s house and up the stairs. He closed the door once they got inside Heather’s bedroom.
“Okay, now can we please talk about this without an audience?” The walk up the stairs had calmed him down. “What’s going on here? I was just kidding about the Carlos thing. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She laughed. Her laugh didn’t sound like Alexa’s laugh.
“What would it matter to you anyway if I was fucking Carlos? Like you would care.”
Whoa, where had that come from?
“What the fuck, Alexa? You know that’s not true. Come on, what happened? What changed between now and this morning?” He took a step toward her and she backed away.
“Nothing you need to worry about, Drew. Go back outside, hang out with your friend Kat. I can occupy myself.”
His shoulders relaxed. She was jealous! He could fix this; it was going to be okay.
“Is that what this is about? Monroe, nothing is going on between me and Kat—we’re just friends.” Something suddenly occurred to him. “I should have told you—I used to date Robin . . . and Emma. Did they tell you that? Were they weird to you? Is that why you’re mad?”
Alexa threw up her hands.
“No, Drew, everyone here is great. The women are nice and collegial, all welcoming me to the club of people who have had their month or so of sleeping with the great Drew Nichols, with that slight pity in their eyes when they look at me because they know what’s coming. The men all look me up and down like they’re ready to jump me as soon as you’re done with me, because they assume there must be something good in there if I’m worthy of you. Same as it’s ever been since the wedding, honestly.”
He still didn’t understand what was wrong. Maybe he was never going to understand women.
“Why do you keep bringing up the wedding? I thought everything was fine at the wedding. Better than fine.”
She took a step toward him. Finally, she wasn’t backing away anymore.
“Everything was fine at the wedding because the wedding wasn’t real! I’d met you two days before, I didn’t know you, I didn’t know anything about you, and I didn’t care about you then.”
He smiled and reached for her.
“Does that mean you care about me now?”
She dodged his hand and stepped around him toward the bedroom door.
“Fuck you, Drew.”
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say.
“No, wait, Alexa. I didn’t . . . I don’t understand. Please don’t leave.” He needed to fix this. He didn’t want her to be mad. He didn’t want this to be over.
Her hand dropped from the doorknob, but her back was still to him. He had to say something to get her to turn around. Maybe honesty would work.
“What do you mean the wedding wasn’t real? It felt real to me.” It had. From the moment he’d first touched her, it had felt like she’d belonged there by his side, smiling at him, joking with him, confiding in him, listening to him, being silent with him. Everything about this had felt real from the beginning, even when he barely knew her.
Now that he really knew her, and she knew him, it felt more than real. It felt like his life finally made sense.
He’d tried to pretend to himself all week that he would end things with her after this weekend, but he’d known as soon as he saw her at the airport that that wasn’t true. Not only that he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t.
She turned around, and for a minute he felt like he’d said the right thing. That was, until he saw the look on her face.
“Here’s how I know the wedding wasn’t real, Drew. Because at the wedding, you called me your girlfriend. In real life, I’m nothing to you.”
He shook his head. She was so far from nothing.
“That’s not—”