Why?
Because he was a fucking idiot.
It wasn’t as if you could actually blame drinking for the predicament he was in. He’d had a single glass of champagne that night ten years ago. Ten long years ago, on a certain woman’s birthday, the same woman who had a birthday tonight. A single glass of champagne that had ended in a change of a future. A bet…a promise.
Because, of course, when it came to him and his best friend, there had to be a dare or a promise that couldn’t be broken between them. Not that many people knew that about him and Bristol. It was something they kind of kept to themselves, like the whole idea of the deal.
Ten years ago, they had decided—somehow, in a weird, twisted way of who they were—that if neither of them was married by the time Bristol turned thirty—tonight—they would get married.
That was not the stupidest thing in the history of the world, right? More ill-conceived things had to have occurred since then, but he couldn’t think of any. And it didn’t help that every time he thought of what could happen tonight, he thought of the feelings he refused to allow himself to venture into.
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed that she had forgotten.
It had to be a joke, right? They hadn’t really mentioned their promise or the event at all over the past ten years. She’d traveled the globe and, sometimes, he went with her for a moment in time. And in all those instances, they’d never mentioned what had been agreed upon, or what would happen beyond this moment.
Oh, in the past few months, he might’ve noticed that she’d started to look at him differently. If he were honest with himself, he might have looked at her in a way he shouldn’t have either, but he hadn’t allowed himself to go beyond those blips. He hadn’t slept much these past few months. His stress levels had gone through the roof just thinking about what he was going to tell her tonight. What he should say.
He didn’t know if she still remembered. Surely, she had forgotten. He’d let himself forget over the past decade, even if it had been in the back of his mind every once in a while. He’d been in relationships, as had she, and yet…here they were.
It was only a silly joke, a gamble of faith, and an agreement between friends. People did that in the movies and on TV all the time, and no one ever actually got married after saying that they would be their friend’s second choice. That they would somehow rely on each other for marriage. They’d skip the steps of temptation and uncertainty and move on to finding forever—with each other.
He knew Bristol wanted children…just like he did. He knew she wanted someone to be her partner in life because they’d talked about it. And his goals were the same as hers. Happiness, a family…a future.
He couldn’t actually add the words love or sex to that because thinking about having sex with Bristol or loving her in a way that he didn’t already love her would make him want to throw up. No, that really wasn’t the right thing to think. Because he didn’t want to vomit. Not unless it was because of stress.
He thought about Bristol that way…had let himself, once or twice. How could he help it? She was fucking hot and amazing and sweet, and he was a red-blooded male, who happened to have thoughts every once in a while.
And because he was so damn afraid of losing his best friend, he’d repeated his mantra over and over again. He did not want to have sex with Bristol. He didn’t want to love her. Not that he didn’t already love her, but he didn’t want to fall in love with her.
Not any more than I already have.
No, he was not going to think about that.
Dear God, now he was thinking himself into circles, and he sounded like Bristol. He let out a breath and tried to focus on the others in the room, only he couldn’t, and his mind drifted.
At one point, when she had been with Zia, her ex-girlfriend, he had thought maybe he could get out of the promise made between the two of them. Zia and Bristol had been hot and heavy and had great chemistry. He liked Zia. She and Bristol had been serious enough that he’d thought they were on the path to marriage. Maybe he’d even been a little bit jealous. But that was only because she spent so much time with Zia and not him.
That was the cause of the jealousy.
No other reason.
Then the two had broken up, though they remained friends. And now Zia was off with a man in her life, and happy—possibly getting married.
And now he might be getting married.
No. He was not getting married.
Bristol had forgotten.
“Why are you growling over in a corner at your best friend’s birthday party?” his mother asked as she walked towards him, his father on her arm.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said quickly, knowing that was a lie.
“I don’t know what your son is doing, Alex. But you need to make sure that he is prepared for this next phase.”
Next phase? Did his mother know? Oh, God, had he written what he and Bristol had planned down somewhere, and she had figured it out?
“Old age?” his father asked, grinning, and then winced as his mother punched him in the shoulder. “You know, you still have the same strength you did when you were in college playing softball, love of my life. Come on, Joan.” His dad reached around his mother, and when his mother’s eyes widened, and she gasped, Marcus tried not to flinch.
He did, however, roll his eyes. “If you two could stop fawning over each other and groping one another for a minute, that would be great.”
“Why are you so growly, son?” his mom asked as she moved closer. “Is there something we can do?”
Not in the slightest. Because how could he tell his mother that he might end up engaged tonight because of a promise made between two people who’d vowed to never break their word? Or the fact that he did, in fact, want Bristol. Even if he told himself that he didn’t. That he couldn’t. “I’m fine. Promise. And what do you mean, prepared?” he asked.
“I was only asking if you’re prepared now that you’re in your thirties.”
“Mom, I’ve been thirty for over a month.” His tone was dry, and when his mother raised a brow, he knew he was right on the edge of getting that tone from her. He’d lived on that edge his entire life, even if he was the so-called quiet one. He was used to it.
She waved him off. “True, but now that Bristol is thirty, I feel like you’re actually in your thirties. Don’t give me that look. You’re still my baby, but because you guys have always been joined at the hip, now that you’re both thirty, it counts.” She clapped as she said it, and he snorted.
“It’s good to know that Bristol needs to do something in order for it to count for me.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. I love that little girl like she’s my own daughter. It’s a shame that you two never actually got together. I would love for her to become a Stearn.”
Marcus smiled, shaking his head, even as his stomach clenched. Well, his mother might be getting her wish.
That thought sent shivers down his spine, even as it warmed him. Hell, he had no idea what to think. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
“Hey there, what are you doing over in the corner?” his eldest sister, Vanessa, asked as she came forward. James, her husband, was right behind her, grinning.