“Yeah.” He was quiet again. “I have to ask you something.”
“No, I won’t give you a kidney—take one of Grandma’s.”
“She only has one kidney.”
“My point exactly.”
Travis sighed. “It’s not that, it’s…”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me.”
“So, you know how Dad’s going to be walking Kacey down the aisle?”
Jake pulled into the parking lot and sighed. “Yes.”
“She, um…” Travis cursed. “She wanted to know if it would be okay if maybe… you walked with them.”
“Me?” Jake yelled. “Why in the hell would she want me on the other side of her? Is this a joke? It’s not funny—”
“Stop yelling.” Travis swore. “See? I knew you’d freak out. It’s just that… Kacey and you were best friends for so long and even though you guys had those rough couple of years, you were still a huge part of her life, and she wants to honor you because of it.”
Well, shit.
Jake never cried.
Ever.
The last time he’d cried was when Kacey’s parents died, and even then he’d locked himself in his dorm and gotten trashed so he wouldn’t remember the fact that he’d shed actual tears.
But now… now he felt a hell of a lot like sobbing his damn eyes out. Because it shouldn’t be him walking Kacey down the aisle, or his father—but hers. Part of him, a small part, felt like it was his fault. That if he could just go back in time and fix a few things, that everyone would be alive and happy.
“Jake, you still there?”
“Yeah,” he croaked. “Can I… um, can I think about it?”
“Sure.”
“Look.” Jake hit the steering wheel with his hand. “I gotta run. Say hi to Kace for me.”
“Okay. Later, man.”
Jake turned off the car and hit the steering wheel.
Once wasn’t enough. He hit it again and again until finally his hand was so damn numb he was sure he’d have to ice it later.
One of these days he would tell her everything. He’d explain to her that her father… had saved his life.
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought about the past—about his past in general. Would Bill have been proud of Jake and his choices? Or would he have done what he did eight years ago… take him out back and make him chop wood and dig holes until his fingers bled—until Jake realized the giant error in judgment he’d made?
With a curse, Jake got out of the car and walked toward the tux shop. He’d think about it—he’d think about walking Kacey down the aisle—even if it meant he wasn’t going to be the man at the end of it. He’d never been deserving of that kind of love and he probably never would be.
Chapter Twelve
Beth snapped her fingers in front of Char’s face. “Um, did you hear anything I just said?”
Char felt her cheeks flame as she took a long sip of wine. “Sure, you were talking about work.” It wasn’t as if that would be anything new. Beth’s job as a chemist for one of the medical labs always produced dry stories.
“And?”
Char set her wine down and used her fork to spread some of her dinner salad across her plate. “And, tell me more?”
Beth sighed. “Really? I just listed the periodic table of elements and you want to hear more?”
Snorting, Char leaned forward. “No wonder I blacked out.”
“Where are you tonight? It’s girls’ night! Remember? Food? Drinks? Fun?”
Oh you know. Exactly where every other girl’s brain would be. Kissing Jake, touching his muscular chest, running her tongue along his plump bottom lip and—
“Did someone say girls’ night?” A familiar voice shot through the restaurant. Char turned and came face to face with Grandma. Well, Grandma and a blinding gold jacket with leopard fur around the collar. Her skinny jeans were accentuated that much more by matching leopard heels.
“How did you—”
“Oh.” Grandma waved off Char and took a seat at the table. “There’s an app for everything. Did you know that?”
“Yes but—”
“Anyways.” Grandma waved over a waiter and ordered three shots of tequila. The woman better be drinking those alone; no way was Char going to take shots with Jake’s grandmother! “There’s this handy little app called find a friend!”
Char grabbed her phone. “I didn’t even know I had that on my phone or that you were—”
Grandma shrugged as if she was keeping a big giant secret. “It’s how I keep track of Jake’s whores.”