Miles and I are actually very good at pretending the other doesnât exist.
Thatâs 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, Aaronâll always mention it to us like itâs some big joke, because to him, itâs funny as hell. Aaronâs big on bringing up the past, especially the stupid drunken escapades of his college glory days, because heâs King where stupid drunken escapades are concerned. âHey. Remember that time, before Lia and I got together? How you twoâ¦â
Yeah. Funny. Hilarious.
Usually, when that happens, Miles and I will do everything possible to pretend the other doesnât 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, âOn the bar with my dick hanging out!â
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, âWhew! Good thing weâve all moved past that train wreck of a night!â
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 donât 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 toâ¦probably a bunch of old men disagreeing with one another. When we come down the mountain, Iâm happy.
The sky is still clear, the sun is shining, Iâm 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.
âAllow me.â
He climbs out of the car. At first I think heâs being chivalrous, but then I see him reaching his arms over his head and rolling his shoulder joints. Heâs just wanting to stretch, since heâs been folded up inside my car for too long.
I watch him in the driverâs 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 heâs walking toward me.
Like a moron, I squeeze my eyes closed.
Suddenly, thereâs a slight tapping on the glass.
I look up and see him peering at me. âEighty-nine okay?â
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 Iâd never even known existed. By morning we were both sweaty and dirty andâ
What the fuck am I doing?
My temperature skyrockets until I blink the image away. You moron. Heâs asking about the gas.
âNinety-one, please.â I reach into my purse and filter my Mastercard through the two-inch opening in the window.
He shakes his head. âForget it. Early wedding gift, from me to you.â
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. Itâs just after two-thirty, so if we zip over to Aaronâs apartment, get the rings and donât stop, weâll 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, Iâll have to put my foot down. Last night was the last hurrah. He doesnât 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 thisâ¦
I realize Iâm 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 donât 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. Theyâre eating everything in sight.
Hmm. Nice that Aaron doesnât 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 isnât one.
Of course not. When heâs with his friends, he reverts back to his frat boy self. Meaning that he forgets about me.
Which really worries me.
West wouldnât put up with this shit. Heâs 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 didnât go to the bachelor party. West wasnât one for wild parties and drunken antics, even when he was in college. And though he goes through women like Kleenex, heâs a good big brother. One of my favorite people. Heâs 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 Iâm typing in a text to West.
West, could you please keep an eye on Aaron? Make sure he doesnât When I look up, I realize Miles is watching me. I canât see his eyes through the sunglasses, but I get the feeling he knows exactly what Iâm up to. Fucking Dumbledore.
My eyes trail back to the text. Make sure he doesnât what, exactly? How possessive and stupid do I look? Iâm marrying Aaron. Heâs the man I trust with my heart.
At least, I should.
No, I do. Thatâs why weâre getting married.
He proved to me he was a changed man. Sure, weâd had a bumpy road before graduation, but itâs been smooth sailing ever since he proposed.
Delete, delete, delete.
I shove my phone into my bag. âLetâs be off!â I say brightly.
He grunts.
Itâs funny. Whenever Miles is in a bad mood, it somehow puts me in a good mood. Itâs like weâre absolute opposites in that respect. If that isnât pure hate, I donât know what is.
âThanks for the gas, buddy!â I say, backing out of my spot at the pump. I resist the urge to give his big, flannel-clad biceps a friendly punch. âNow letâs get moving and get those rings, Samwise!â
He cocks an eye at me. âSamwise?â
âYeah. Of course, Iâm Frodo.â
âSoâ¦what? Is Aaron Gollum?â
I roll my eyes. âOh, whatever. Of course itâs not a perfect analogy, but Iâm permitted to take liberties. Iâm getting married tomorrow!â
âUh-huh,â he says, burying his nose in his phone. âOn to Mordor.â