Best Man

Miles and I are actually very good at pretending the other doesn’t exist.

That’s because, despite our passionate hate for one another, we were often thrust together, due to having Aaron in common.

It was never comfortable, but we dealt with it.

And the weird thing is, when the three of us are together, Aaron’ll always mention it to us like it’s some big joke, because to him, it’s funny as hell. Aaron’s big on bringing up the past, especially the stupid drunken escapades of his college glory days, because he’s King where stupid drunken escapades are concerned. “Hey. Remember that time, before Lia and I got together? How you two…”

Yeah. Funny. Hilarious.

Usually, when that happens, Miles and I will do everything possible to pretend the other doesn’t exist.

Then I will politely remind Aaron how drunk we all were. After all, the reason it happened in the first place was because Aaron had gone off to get me that beer, and then never returned. He got caught up doing naked keg stands and passed out, as he tells it, “On the bar with my dick hanging out!”

According to local Delta Phi legend, Aaron was big on passing out naked with his dick hanging out. It seems that every brother can relate a different story about it. Just like no brother can relate a story about Miles having a good time at one of their keggers.

After the moment passes, one of us will make a comment like, “Whew! Good thing we’ve all moved past that train wreck of a night!”

And we have. Totally.

So, with an imaginary brick wall between us, we make excellent time going over the mountain range that lies between Boulder and the Midnight Lodge.

After our initial conversation, we don’t talk. Not once.

I listen to my favorite country station until I lose a signal, and then I pipe in my playlist, which alternates between country and pop. Miles puts his earbuds in and listens to whatever he likes to listen to…probably a bunch of old men disagreeing with one another. When we come down the mountain, I’m happy.

The sky is still clear, the sun is shining, I’m getting married in the morning, and Miles has effectively been beaten into silence.

Life is good.

I have to get gas in my Mini before we head back, so I pull into the Shell and stop at the gas pump. I reach down at his feet and grab my purse. The second I do, he pops out his earbuds.

“Allow me.”

He climbs out of the car. At first I think he’s being chivalrous, but then I see him reaching his arms over his head and rolling his shoulder joints. He’s just wanting to stretch, since he’s been folded up inside my car for too long.

I watch him in the driver’s side mirror as he lifts his arms to the sky, lifting his shirt just enough to bare about three inches of his rock-hard abs. I find my mind wandering down a dangerous path as I realize he’s walking toward me.

Like a moron, I squeeze my eyes closed.

Suddenly, there’s a slight tapping on the glass.

I look up and see him peering at me. “Eighty-nine okay?”

For the briefest moment, I flash to his museum-like room, lying on top of him in sixty-nine.

Yeah, believe it or not, Mr. Clean and I went at it like fucking rabbits that night, in a bunch of positions I’d never even known existed. By morning we were both sweaty and dirty and—

What the fuck am I doing?

My temperature skyrockets until I blink the image away. You moron. He’s asking about the gas.

“Ninety-one, please.” I reach into my purse and filter my Mastercard through the two-inch opening in the window.

He shakes his head. “Forget it. Early wedding gift, from me to you.”

Nice, but if you wanted to give me something I really could use, how about a lobotomy?

Trying not to watch as he fills up my tank, I grab my phone and look at my texts. The first one I see is from Eva: I heard you went with the asshole. Poor you.

I type in: Yep. Just got here. Be back in 5 hours.

I look at the clock. It’s just after two-thirty, so if we zip over to Aaron’s apartment, get the rings and don’t stop, we’ll be back at the Midnight Lodge by seven-thirty, which will give me enough time to slip into my dress for the rehearsal dinner. Perfect.

By then, Aaron should be sober. And ready. I try not to be a total nudge when it comes to him having fun, because I know how much he likes it, but if he insists on going out with his buddies tonight, after the rehearsal dinner, I’ll have to put my foot down. Last night was the last hurrah. He doesn’t need another one. And the Guppy can avoid drinking like a fish for one night.

Although, I know how he gets when all of his friends and frat brothers are around. Most of them are scattered around the country, now. He rarely has time to be with all of them together, so on an occasion like this…

I realize I’m gnawing on my lip again, thinking about what happened the last time he and his brothers all got together, nineteen months ago, for a D-Phi Almost-Graduation shebang.

It was bad.

Really, really bad.

So bad, I don’t want to think about it.

So I type in: Have you seen Aaron yet?

A moment later: Yep. He and the rest of the groomsmen have taken ownership of the restaurant. They’re eating everything in sight.

Hmm. Nice that Aaron doesn’t have to worry about fitting into his tux the way I have to worry about fitting into my dress.

I exit out of the message to her and look for a text from Aaron, but there isn’t one.

Of course not. When he’s with his friends, he reverts back to his frat boy self. Meaning that he forgets about me.

Which really worries me.

West wouldn’t put up with this shit. He’s never said as much, but I can tell he thinks his soon-to-be brother-in-law is a bit of a jerk. Which is why he didn’t go to the bachelor party. West wasn’t one for wild parties and drunken antics, even when he was in college. And though he goes through women like Kleenex, he’s a good big brother. One of my favorite people. He’s all about defending my honor.

Plus, his was the shoulder I cried on, right before college graduation, when I thought that Aaron and I were over.

I sigh as I hear the click at the pump, signaling my tank is full. Miles lifts the nozzle and puts it back in place, then takes the receipt and opens the door as I’m typing in a text to West.

West, could you please keep an eye on Aaron? Make sure he doesn’t

When I look up, I realize Miles is watching me. I can’t see his eyes through the sunglasses, but I get the feeling he knows exactly what I’m up to. Fucking Dumbledore.

My eyes trail back to the text. Make sure he doesn’t what, exactly? How possessive and stupid do I look? I’m marrying Aaron. He’s the man I trust with my heart.

At least, I should.

No, I do. That’s why we’re getting married.

He proved to me he was a changed man. Sure, we’d had a bumpy road before graduation, but it’s been smooth sailing ever since he proposed.

Delete, delete, delete.

I shove my phone into my bag. “Let’s be off!” I say brightly.

He grunts.

It’s funny. Whenever Miles is in a bad mood, it somehow puts me in a good mood. It’s like we’re absolute opposites in that respect. If that isn’t pure hate, I don’t know what is.

“Thanks for the gas, buddy!” I say, backing out of my spot at the pump. I resist the urge to give his big, flannel-clad biceps a friendly punch. “Now let’s get moving and get those rings, Samwise!”

He cocks an eye at me. “Samwise?”

“Yeah. Of course, I’m Frodo.”

“So…what? Is Aaron Gollum?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, whatever. Of course it’s not a perfect analogy, but I’m permitted to take liberties. I’m getting married tomorrow!”

“Uh-huh,” he says, burying his nose in his phone. “On to Mordor.”