Her throat bobs. “Yeah. That day.”

“You didn’t misread anything.” I scan her face, her dark eyes, that perfect mouth, remembering how easy it felt to pull her into my arms and how natural it was to lower my mouth to hers. I told myself I didn’t care that she pushed me away, that it was better we stay friends, but in truth, I always wished she’d let me have that kiss. “I wish you would have told me about Heath then. About my job being a problem for you. I would have understood.”

Her flinch is there and gone so fast that I’d have missed it if I hadn’t been trying to memorize every inch of her face. “You’re a good friend, Carter.”

Friend. There’s that word again. “I try.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch. It’s a big bed. I think we can manage.”

Right. “We’ll see.” I might be a good friend, but if she’s serious about the rules she laid out for us, the couch is the right place for me tonight.

Carter

Rich Nasser is an ass. Granted, my introduction to the man skewed my opinion, but after thirty minutes in the same room as him, I can’t imagine what Teagan ever saw in him, and I’m at a complete loss for as to why her mom and dad still adore him.

Teagan needed to meet with her mom and sister for a while, so I came down to the game room to kill time and shoot pool. Rich, Liam, and Travis, one of Liam’s groomsmen, were already in here. I thought about turning around and going back to our room, but I decided to use the time to feel out the ex who’s managed to keep a foothold in Teagan’s life.

Had I not felt the way Teagan shook when she first saw him, and were he not obviously struggling to hide his irritation with my presence this weekend, I might have even fallen for his “everyone’s best friend” act.

It’s not just that he’s hung up on Teagan. He tries too hard to be what everyone wants. And sure, during a celebratory weekend, everyone should play nice, but it’s more than that. An agreeableness that almost ventures into creepy. I’ve learned very little except that the guy puts off a bad vibe and likes to talk about all the favors he’s done for Teagan’s parents and brag about how much they love him.

My phone buzzes with a text alert. Once. Twice. Three times. I pull it from my pocket to see messages from Myla.

Myla: Sorry if I was a bitch about everything.

Myla: You don’t owe me any explanations. You said this was casual from the start.

Myla: I guess I caught feelings somewhere along the way.

“You and Teagan seem happy,” Rich says, and I quickly darken the screen so he can’t read over my shoulder.

“We are.”