Page 141 of I Choose You

Since she’d talked about her friend going on a trip, the idea of getting away with her sounded amazing. Right now, it would be impossible. Dad was marrying Margaux, and after the ceremony, they’d be honeymooning in the Maldives. Kody and I would have to run the company. We could, without a hitch, but it would require more of my attention to be on work, not Brooke or planning a trip anywhere.

Maybe once they’re back?

I fell into daydreams on the drive to the lake house, thinking about where we could go and what we could do. It would be perfect, not only because she was perfect for me but also because we were so similar. She was as married to her work as I was to mine, and I imagined we’d both struggle with letting go and knowing it was okay to put something else first for a change.

I had a hunch I’d already put Brooke before anything else, such as this bachelor party. While I wanted Dad to be happy, I knew he wanted the same for me—and she completed me in a way I’d never felt with a woman before.

It’s one weekend. Get over it.

I’d see her soon enough, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten my fill of her—or filled her pussy—before I drove out of the city.

At the lake house, I would do my best to enjoy myself in her absence. I arrived late, having delayed giving Brooke one last kiss goodbye. Most of the men hanging around were Dad’s friends. I knew them all, and some were acquaintances I dealt with through work. I had grown up knowing these men, and I preferred that. The anti-social phase I went through as a teenager wasn’t something I planned to repeat any time soon, but I liked surrounding myself with people I trusted and had vetted. It was simply easier.

Kody was there, as well as a couple of friends and distant cousins. It was a good crowd, and we had plenty of vices to consider.

Fine liquor, fishing, playing pool, and generally horsing around. Dad had even planned for a chef to offer decent food to soak up the copious alcohol we drank.

“When do the strippers come?” Kody asked.

Dad shot him a look. “They’re not.” He rolled his eyes at my uncle, who laughed.

“Then it’s not a real bachelor party.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m not even a real bachelor. I’m a widower. And I don’t need strippers here.”

“Neither do you,” my uncle teased Kody.

“The hell I don’t!” Kody retorted, laughing.

Brooke had asked me if I thought there would be strippers. I told her there wouldn’t be, assuaging what I assumed was a flare of jealousy. And when I asked if she’d strip for me instead, she had. Or she’d tried to. I couldn’t always be that patient. As soon as she was topless, I jumped on her.

Friday night had passed well, but spending all day away from Brooke wasn’t fun. At first, I thought maybe a little space would help. Absence to make the heart fonder and all that crap. It didn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it wasn’t helped when the men who’d met her at the engagement party asked about her too, reminding me of her even more.

I couldn’t believe I had ever worried that she could be forgettable or overlooked. It was a different scenario in high school, I knew that. But as an adult? She carried such a bright energy it was impossible for someone to overlook her.

At the end of Saturday, though, I watched Kody and got hooked on a certain thought. I tried to stay away from him when he was rowdy, and he’d been goofing around with a couple of friends most of the time. Still, hearing his voice and cracking crude jokes, I struggled to not think about the predicament he’d put me in with Brooke.

I couldn’t go on hiding the truth about that prom date. It ate at me, and the only thing holding me back from explaining was not wanting to ruin things even more with the jerk who’d shared a womb with me.

Kody sat out there on the dock, drinking beer and halfheartedly fishing. It was too late to catch anything, well past dusk. The poles were just props, I assumed. Everyone was on their way to getting drunk, but I tried to limit myself, not wanting a hangover for the whiskey distillery scheduled for tomorrow. It had been a long time since I’d gone to sample drinks, and I was looking forward to it. Something different to do.

It was almost too warm to be out here. I remembered how cold the water was when we’d gone out on the boat earlier. This close to fall, the body of water got cold enough at night to hold the chill through the sunshine. Now, though, it felt balmy. No breeze lifted off the lake, and the bugs were coming out no matter how many candles we burned. I felt uncomfortable, but it probably wasn’t just the environment. I preferred not to engage him when I knew his hotheadedness would likely come to full force. Confrontations sucked at any time, but facing off with someone known to lose their cool and not pull any punches was worse.

When conversation hit a lull and he sat there alone, I approached him.

“Hey, Kody,” I said when it was just me and him at the end.

“What’s up?” he asked, tipped back in his fold-out chair.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, great. Hear that, everyone? The ‘good’ twin,” he air quoted with his bottle between his fingers, “has another mighty opinion about something.”

Yeah. This was going to go over well.

It might have made more sense to wait until he wasn’t drunk or buzzed. He likely would be all weekend, and the office wasn’t an ideal place to initiate this conversation either.

Just say it. There was never a better time to deal with him. He was consistently a jerk, even to me.