“It’s not legit,” I hiss, trying to quiet her down. I don’t need the whole restaurant staring. “Well, I mean, it is legit in that it’s legally binding. But he was drunk, and I was, well, drunker. It’s not like I actively made the decision.”
“But your subconscious thought it was a good idea to marry him!” Ana says, a little louder than I’d prefer.
“When I’m drunk, my subconscious also thinks it’s a good idea to eat half a pizza at two in the morning,” I say stubbornly. “And I think you, me, and the cellulite on my ass all know there’s nothing smart about that.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty much always pro-pizza.”
I frown, pointing an accusatory chopstick at her. “If our yoga instructor knew what a bad influence you are, she’d never let you back in class again.”
Okay, yeah, she would. Ana’s a freaking size two and gorgeous. She’s such a brat.
“Don’t change the subject. You were about to tell me all about your wedding night.”
I lean my chopsticks on the side of my bowl, sighing in defeat. There’s no way I’m going to get around telling her. And maybe it’ll feel good to get some of it off my chest.
I take a deep breath. “So, like I said, we’d both been drinking.”
Ana props her elbows on the table and leans in, eager to hear more. “That’s how all good stories start.”
I give her the full recap of the evening, or at least what I can remember of it, and the unfortunate morning after where I nearly hyperventilated in front of him.
She swoons at the details of him helping me calm down, despite me trying to downplay anything even remotely cute about this story. I need her on my side, Team Common Sense. She should be rooting for me to get this annulment and go back to the way things were, before I knew details like how good of a kisser Landon is, and how fooling around with him, even with all of our clothes still on, was steamier than pretty much all the sex I’ve had in my life put together.
“The point is,” I say in conclusion, folding my hands on the table, “with our age difference and our insanely different lives, it’s ridiculous to think that things could actually work out between us, right?”
Ana twirls a noodle around her chopsticks, mulling it over, then shrugs. “I kinda think it’s romantic that he’s not willing to let this go.”
Exasperated, I sigh. “He’s not romantic. He’s a child, Ana. He’s only twenty-three.”
She disagrees with a shake of her head. “Twenty-three is old enough to vote, serve your country, drink, play a professional sport, get hitched in Vegas, and it’s most definitely old enough to fall in love.”
Grabbing my ice water, I take a long sip, hoping it will extinguish some of the turmoil inside me.
“Make whatever excuses you want,” she says, “and if you don’t feel anything for him, fine. But don’t blame any of this on his age.”
I purse my lips. “You might be right. I sound like a jaded old bitch.”
She chuckles. “You don’t, Aubree. I just think you could at the very least date the poor guy. He is your husband, after all.”
“I really wish everyone would stop saying that!” I shout just as our server appears to check on us. I fake smile up at him and pretend to not be crazy, because what’s the alternative?
Ana grins at me when he leaves. “Besides, surely there are perks to dating a younger man. I mean, his stamina and recovery time alone must be particularly impressive.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink, her grin crooked.
“I, um, wouldn’t know,” I grumble, feeling even worse.
Her face falls. “Oh. I just assumed you guys had, ya know?” Her eyebrows wiggle. “Hooked up.”
I’m sure everyone assumes that, and I haven’t corrected them. It’s really not my place to out Landon’s choice to remain celibate. If he hasn’t broadcasted it to our circle of friends, I assume he doesn’t want it shared. And it’s a secret I’m happy to protect for him, husband or not. It’s the decent thing to do.
“We didn’t, actually. We were both wasted, stumbling over ourselves,” I say. It’s true enough, so I don’t feel bad lying.
Ana nods. “Makes sense. Maybe you need to, you know, take him for a spin then.” She can’t even keep a straight face while suggesting it, but when I roll my eyes, her tone turns serious. “I mean it. There’s no harm in seeing if you have a physical connection. What do you have to lose?”
“Nothing,” I admit reluctantly. Little does she know that Landon is the one with everything to lose. I’m sure he doesn’t want to give it all up for me when this has almost no chance of lasting, and I honestly wouldn’t want him to.
After we settle the bill and slurp down what’s left of our ramen, Ana and I hug good-bye and head in our separate directions.
But for the rest of the day, her words ring through my head. I know she thinks I should give Landon a shot, but it’s not that simple. Yes, he’s gorgeous and easy to talk to when he isn’t being a total pain in the ass about this whole marriage fiasco, but there are a million reasons why we’d be a bad idea. Especially now that I’ve said yes to moving out of the country.
It would never work in the long run, and one of us would end up hurt. Maybe me. Or maybe him, when he realizes he gave up everything for me.
6
* * *
Restless
Landon
I spent all day Monday getting my ass kicked by my trainer, and then endured an excruciating sports massage by the team’s masseur, aptly nicknamed Thor. All in all, it was a good day.
There’s nothing that centers me more than some good old-fashioned hard work, yet still I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. I’ll give you one guess about what that thing might be. A certain five-foot-nothing feisty brunette named Aubree Derrick. And now the idea of going home alone to an empty apartment, well, let’s just say it’s the last thing I want to do. A root canal would rank higher, quite frankly.
I haven’t seen her since Saturday, when we spent the night together in the honeymoon suite.
She messaged me late Sunday, asking if I’d gotten home okay, but I haven’t replied yet. Mostly because I had no clue what to say.
We had a good time that night, but when things got heated between us and I told her I’ve been waiting for the right girl, she extracted herself from my lap so quickly, I was surprised she didn’t pull a muscle. And then she all but sprinted from the hotel room, calling out for me to have a good night. It wasn’t exactly my dream scenario.
Checking the time, I’m guessing she’ll be off work soon. With a restless sigh, I pull out my phone and type out a text to Aubree.
Hey. I don’t know your schedule, but I’m wondering if you have time to meet for a drink or dinner tonight, or maybe coffee tomorrow. I would like to see you.
After a shower, I see she’s replied, and as I fumble to unlock my phone screen, my mouth quirks up in a smile.
Hey, I could meet for a quick drink after work if you like?