May the Best Man Win (24 page)

“Not for you, Jase. I thought I made this clear when you were in college. You're a clean-shaven kind of guy. When you feel like being a rebel, one day of stubble max. Anything more and—” She sighed. “If you ever want her back, you're going to need to pull your shit together and fix your hair.”

If he wanted her back.

That was the thing.

Brody cleared his throat, leaning forward over his arms. “You do want her back though, right?”

Scrubbing his palm over his mouth, Jase shook his head. “A part of me feels like I'm dying without her.” Like he could barely breathe every time he thought about those last words between them in that fucking cab.

The way she'd given up on wiping at the tears and just let them fall.

“I'm sorry, Jase.”

“I'm sorry too.”

How the sight of her walking away through the rain had left him gutted.

It had been bad, and it wasn't getting any better.

“So do something about it, man. Call her up. Send her flowers. Just go over there.”

Brody the fixer.

“Grovel, Jase.”

With his sidekick, Molly.

Jase shook his head. “That's the thing. As bad as this is, I don't think it was a mistake.”

“The fuck?” Sean snapped, that laid-back posture going ramrod straight. “You're kidding me, right?”

“No, man. I'm not.” And he'd stopped kidding himself too. Though it hadn't come easily. “This thing with Emily was never going to last. Hell, neither one of us was looking for a relationship to go the distance.”

Molly's mouth had firmed into a thin line. “That's bull. You might not have been looking for it, but if you were willing to pull your head out of your ass for five minutes, I think you'd realize you could have had it.”

Jase thought about his mom, back again after all these years. “Yeah, well, just because something can go the distance doesn't always mean it should.”

He'd gotten in too deep with Emily. Lost sight of his own priorities.

“Sometimes a clean break is the best-case scenario.”

The guys didn't look like they were buying it, but being guys, they shrugged. Molly, on the other hand, wasn't a guy, no matter how much she hung out with them.

Her eyes moved from Jase to Brody to Max and then Sean, her temper showing more with each stop. “You guys are such idiots.”

Brody's hands came up in front of him. “What did I do?”

She shook her head and picked up her tray again, muttering “Nothing. Just forget it” as she turned back to the bar.

Sean stared after her a second, all humor wiped clean from his face.

“Moll seeing someone I didn't know about?” he asked, pushing up from his seat and looking like he was going to follow her until Max's hand landing on his shoulder set him back in his chair.

“I got this.”

Sean brushed Max's arm free. “Screw that. You're a damned vault. No way I'm letting you go find out what bee's in her bonnet alone.”

Max rolled his eyes, but then they both got up and headed toward the servers' station.

Jase slumped back against his chair, tired. Worn out.

Brody picked up his pint and took a long swallow. Closed his eyes, savoring the dark stout. Emily had liked that shit too, joking it was like eating a sandwich.

His stomach churned, and he did what he'd sworn he wouldn't.

“She been in here at all?”

Brody shook his head. “Only been a few days. Give you a month before beating your ass for costing me a customer.”

A month.

The thought was like something unpleasant rising up in his throat.

Forcing a smile, Jase smacked the table and stood. “Heading up to the bar. You want anything?”

“I'm good.”

Cutting through the tables, Jase nodded to the faces he knew. Kept his feet moving until he was standing at the polished bar.

“Hiya, Jase. What can I get you?” Dillon asked while filling someone's Blue Moon order.

A whiskey sounded good. Or maybe three would do what his beer hadn't. Numb him up just enough to stop thinking about Emily and actually fall asleep.

“Just a water, thanks.” He wasn't going to spiral out like his father had. Not over some woman he didn't even—

The thought ground to a halt before he could even get the rest of the lie formed in his mind.

Because that's what it would be. A lie.

Well, there it was.

He loved her. He'd gone and fallen in love with Emily…which didn't change anything except his projected estimate on how long it would take him to get over this feeling of being gutted every time he thought about her.

And he pretty much thought about her all the time.

Two heavy hands landed on his shoulders, giving him a rough squeeze. Max, apparently through with Molly.

“What do you say to another game?”

Jase didn't want to. Hell, he didn't want to do anything. But he pushed off the bar and, bringing his water with him, headed back to the dartboard.

“One last game.”

* * *

Emily had moved around a lot growing up. Her father's work took them to a new city and state every couple of years until they landed in Oak Park for good when she was sixteen. She'd seen her share of the country, and of all the places she'd lived and visited, Chicago's summertime lakefront was her favorite. Or it had been.

These last three weeks, the winding paths and vast, blue-green expanse of moody water were more of an escape.

A place to turn off her mind, at least for a little while.

Because if she ran long enough and hard enough, eventually that's what happened.

Except today, it seemed.

She'd set out early like she always did, taking advantage of the cooler temperatures, the muted light, and the quiet while she had them. She'd run past Belmont Harbor and North Avenue Beach, down past Oak Street. Mile after mile. And still her head wouldn't stop taking her to all the places she didn't want to go.

So she pushed her pace, pushed it some more, and—

“Ahh!”

—stumbled to a limping stop, where she bent over and rubbed at her throbbing calf.

“That doesn't look good.”

Emily startled at the familiar voice. Pushing a few escapee ponytail hairs back from her eyes, she straightened.

“Max, I didn't see you,” she gasped, still catching her breath as she tried a few steps to see if she could walk it off.

Max was crossing a grassy area between the sidewalk and path, a cup of coffee in one hand and an actual newspaper in the other. Old school. Typical Max.

“Guess not,” he said with that stern almost-smile of his. “Looked like you were running for your life there.”

That obvious? Ugh.

“You know, angry mob of zombies,” she joked, not really knowing what else to say. “Think I lost them, though.”

“Good thing, the way you're hobbling around there, Em.” Then, more seriously, he asked, “Feel like you tore something?”

She leaned down again, gingerly testing the muscle. Stretching it out a bit. “Just a strain, probably.”

But there wouldn't be any more running today. Which meant she was going to have to count on work to distract her. And good luck with that, after seeing one of Jase's best friends.

If she was smart, she'd limp away as fast as her good leg would take her. But seeing Max was just…nice. She'd missed hanging out with the gang, but as close as she'd gotten with them over the time she and Jase had been together, calling them up or stopping by just seemed wrong.

This accidental encounter though?

Why not.

“How've you been? I was wondering whether you got that fishing trip set up with the guys from the precinct.”

Max nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, the movement stretching his T-shirt around his bicep. The man was seriously buff.

“Yeah, Richy and me and a couple of other guys are goin' end of August. Thanks again for tippin' us off to those island campgrounds.”

She grinned, happy it was working out for them. They talked a bit more about the spot. About Molly giving him the hard-core sulk when she found out it was cops only and she couldn't come. And Brody giving him a lecture, more than he ever wanted to know, on healthy versus unhealthy fish.

But nothing about Jase.

Which was probably for the best. Even if the ache in her heart was growing with every second that passed.

“It was great seeing you, Max. I've got to head back if I'm going to make it in to the office by eight. Enjoy your coffee and paper.”

She turned to go and winced.

“No way, Em. You can barely walk on that. Jase would kill me if I left you like this.”

There it was. The
J
word. And more than that, the suggestion that he was still emotionally invested in her well-being.

For a moment her heart soared, but just as quickly she tumbled back to earth. To the reality that it didn't matter if he still cared. Or that she did.

Max cleared his throat beside her. “Hey, I was sorry to hear about you guys.”

She tried to smile, but it broke a little as she answered, “Me too.”

“Aww hell, Emily,” Max groaned, the big guy looking like he was ready to bolt. “Don't cry. I can't take the tears.”

She'd heard that from Jase. She loved that such a hard man had such a soft weakness.

Swiping at her eyes, she shook her head. “Not crying. Just some pollen or sand or something. I promise.”

“If you say so. Look, I don't want you to be late for work. My car's just across the road.”

A minute later, he'd pulled up to the curb and she was carefully climbing into the black Charger.

They made small talk about plans and friends. The reverse commute. Max getting a haircut later that afternoon.

“Belmont exit?” he asked when they were getting closer.

“Yeah, and thanks for this. But, um, do you think maybe we could keep the
sand
that got in my eyes between us?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Max snickered. “And, Emily, I don't know if it helps any to hear it, but Jase isn't any better off than you are.”

Scrunching down in her seat, she turned to the passenger window.

At the stoplight a block from her place, Max let out a tight breath and handed her a tissue. “For the sand.”

July

Jase had known it was coming.

Hell, he'd planned for it. Waited nearly a whole damned week for it after Molly spilled the news that Brody had seen Emily riding in Max's car on Tuesday morning, and he'd spent the next thirteen hours working Max for intel until he hit the jackpot. Emily was going to be at some mutual friends' party that weekend.

A party he'd had a swift change of heart about attending.

So he'd known he was going to see her.

He'd told himself it would be good. The closure he needed.

But seeing Emily step out onto Shannon and Mike's rooftop hit him like a sucker punch and left him barely able to catch his breath.

Jesus, she looked good. Different from the last time he'd seen her. Even beneath the strung lanterns and burnt-orange evening light, he could see the sun showing across her cheeks and nose. Her shoulders too.

And that dress—black with some kind of big flower pattern, it tied behind her neck, fit around her waist, and then swung loose just to her knees—gorgeous.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Ahh shit, Jase,” Brody said, his arm thrown around a pretty blond he hadn't come with, their fingers tangled at her shoulder. “At least it looks like she's alone.”

“Yeah.” That was a ledge he'd been talking himself off for nearly a month now. Because the idea of her not being alone—he couldn't go there. Not yet.

Still standing by the exit door, Emily laughed at something Shannon said, that smile of hers making him ache in a way that actually felt better than the empty pit that had been growing in his gut these last weeks.

He loved that smile. He loved the way it made everything brighter.

And then it happened. Emily's head turned as she was speaking. Their eyes met and her words stopped. And that smile he couldn't get enough of slipped from her lips.

It was like the lights went out in the city.

Like someone pulled the plug in his chest, and everything warm and good that had been filling it up drained out.

“Got a plan?”

Jase glanced back and realized Brody's blond was gone.

How long had he been staring?

“I mean, we're here. And you've seen her.” Brody scratched at what had to be at least three-day-old stubble and then shoved that wild mane back from his face. “You gonna try to get her back?”

Jase's jaw hardened, and Brody nodded his head for Jase to follow. At the far end of the roof, a couple of metal washtubs were filled with melting ice, assorted beers, and other hard drinks. Jase grabbed a couple of bottles of Fat Tire and handed one to Brody, who pulled an opener from his back pocket and pried both caps off.

“So, what? You thinking about trying the friends thing again?”

Kicking at the gravel roof with his foot, Jase shook his head. “Tried that already.”

Brody's mouth pulled into a frown. “Sort of a slippery slope there, huh?”

“That it is. I mean, okay, so lots of people become friends after they'd been something else first, but for me and Em”—he thought about the way she'd looked at him in the cab, the hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she told him he didn't know her at all—“attraction was never the problem.”

Jase looked over the crowd and found her in an instant when the wind kicked up and that strawberry-blond tempest gave her away. It stirred up memories he ought to have put behind him but that instead were slamming against his mind to get out.

She wasn't supposed to get to him like this.

Not anymore. But then he thought about his dad, and those calls that had come every year or two when his mother would move. It had never gone away for Joe. And even knowing how truly toxic Clara Foster had been to his life, the man had still welcomed her back with open arms.

Or at least that was the way it looked from Jase's rather uninformed perspective. He'd been seeing his dad every week, but never at the house, and they avoided the subject of women completely.

But even with that glaring example front and center, he couldn't ignore the pull. He couldn't do the smart thing.

“I just need to talk to her,” he said, more to himself than to Brody.

If he knew she was okay, that she was good—he'd be good too. He'd be able to move on. Let go.

She'd moved over by the folding table set up with the wine at the east wall and was talking with a couple of girls whose names he should have been able to place.

Emily glanced up and their eyes met. Locked.

Connection
.

Excusing herself from the other girls, she started toward him. That's when he saw it.

The uneven gait and the beige wrap around her calf.

“Jesus, you're hurt,” he blurted out, closing the distance between them. “Is this still from Tuesday?”

Emily looked down at where his hands were on her arm and side. He pulled them back.

Right. No touching.

More comfortable, she gave him a small smile and brushed her hair back from her eyes. “It's a strain. Not a big deal, Jase.”

“It's been five days,” he pressed. Then, scanning the roof, he found the hibiscus Mike had told him Shannon made him carry up, along with half their living room furniture, for the party. Jackpot. “Come on, they've got some chairs set up and I'm pretty sure I see one of those Papasan chairs too.”

Glancing past the makeshift wall of potted trees, Emily bit her lip and then, looking back at him, shook her head. “Honestly, I'm good. Really.”

Some reluctant part of his brain made a checkmark beside the box labeled
She's good
.

He frowned and she shifted uncomfortably.

“Jase, I know why you're over here. I'm sorry for how I reacted when I first came in. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight, and my emotions just got away from me.”

The kind of emotions that said he'd broken something inside her, and it had cost him her smile.

“No, don't worry about it,” he assured her. “I get it. I knew you'd be here and it still rocked me to see you. But I mean, we've got a lot of friends in common, so—”

“It won't be a problem, Jase. We're good.”

There it was again. Another check mark.
They
were good.

He had what he'd been looking for. What he needed to hear. Time to kiss her cheek, tell her it was nice seeing her, and move on.

It's what she was waiting for. He could see it in those big, soft eyes of hers.

He swallowed. “Have you seen a doctor yet?”

Emily blinked, looking almost hurt by the question. “My friend Gail looked at it.”

“Wait, Gail with the red hair? She's an RN, not a doctor.” He had his phone out then, and was scrolling through his contacts. “I don't think you've met Dex Oldman, but he's a specialist in sports injuries.” He could take her over to his place tonight.

“I don't need a specialist.” Her arms were crossed over her chest, and he knew it was time to back off—past time.

“Getting groceries can't be easy like that, though. I was going to hit the store tomorrow.”
Pull out, man
. “Why don't you shoot me a list and I'll bring everything by?”

She wasn't even looking at him now. “Really, I'm fine.”

“They're just groceries, Em. We're fri—”

“No,” she snapped, her hands coming up between them. “Just stop. I don't need you to take me to the doctor, Jase. I don't want you helping me out or stopping by or checking on me. I don't want anything from you.”

His heart was starting to race, and he could feel that pretense of control slipping away. “You could use a hand and I've got one. It doesn't have to mean anything other than I care about you, Em.”

She let out a heartbreaking laugh. “Then leave me alone, Jase.”

“Why?” he shot back, knowing he was doing everything wrong but unable to stop.

She sighed, shaking her head like it hurt that he even had to ask.

“Because, Jase, when I look at you now,” she said, the tears in her eyes knocking him back a step, “all I see is the lie I fell in love with. And the truth just hurts too much.”

The lie.

He let her go.

Barely tamping down the need to stop her with his hands and beg her to wait, to listen, to talk, Jase watched Emily turn away from him and walk out the door she'd walked in less than thirty minutes before.

His breath left him in a slow leak.

He couldn't have blown it more if he'd tried.

He'd taken this night Emily had planned to spend with her friends from her. Ruined whatever chance they'd had of things being even remotely easy between them at the next wedding. And killed what he'd just that minute recognized as the last shred of hope he'd been unwittingly holding on to about maybe, just maybe them working things out.

Lurching to the rail, he stared down the six stories to the sidewalk below, waiting for her to emerge. Because for the first time in a month, he was seeing things clearly.

Brody came up beside him, folding his burly arms over the rail to look down with Jase.

There she was. Head bowed, her shoulders slumped.

He'd done this.

When she'd stepped into a cab, Brody's eyes cut to him.

“Let me guess. You fucked up, again.”

Jase pushed back from the rail, his stomach in knots, self-loathing clawing at him from the inside out. “Don't worry, man. I'll leave her alone.”

* * *

The cab was nearly at her apartment when Emily leaned forward and gave the driver a new address. After some indignant huffing, the guy agreed, circling back toward the neighborhood they'd just come from. Only instead of dropping her at Shannon and Mike's again so her heart could break into even tinier pieces, he cut over a few blocks east. To Sally's.

Not Sally and Romeo's. Not anymore.

No need to check if she'd be there. Despite her parents' insistence that she and Gloria move back into the Willson home, Sally wasn't going anywhere. Or anywhere other than the market or the doctor's office.

Romeo came by most days for an hour or so, but Sally said it was always right after work or in the mornings on the weekends, so Emily knew she wouldn't risk interrupting them. Not that there would be much to interrupt. From what Sally had said, if she tried to apologize or talk to Romeo, he'd just kiss Gloria good-bye and then leave. But if she just sat there, watching her husband love and play with their baby, he would stay and she could almost pretend for a little while that things were normal.

So that's what she'd been doing.

Emily paid the driver and then walked up to the big greystone's entry. She waited for Sally to buzz her in and then met her friend at her door.

Sally was too thin, her eyes rimmed red, but the smile she had for Emily as she ushered her in was warm and full.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a new mother's hushed tones.

Emily peeked past her into the classic Ralph Lauren–styled apartment and to the one mismatched piece of furniture in the place. The frilly, white ruffled bassinet with a tiny head of dark curls visible within. Gloria Santos was such perfection.

“It suddenly occurred to me that I'm a season behind on
Scandal
. And I thought that maybe if I played my cards right, I could score a little baby snuggle time and give you a rest.”

Sally's hands clutched together as she bounced in place. “A sleepover? Puh-leeease tell me you'll sleep over. I have ice cream. Really good ice cream purchased in bulk.”

Emily nodded, happy for the company as much as Sally was to have it.

“Promise I'll be out before Romeo gets here.”

“Deal.” Sally skirted around the rich mahogany occasional table and grabbed an open bag of pretzels from the overstuffed chair. “I'll put these in a bowl!”

“I'll get the ice cream.”

This was what she'd needed. The impossible-to-ignore reminder of why she couldn't let Jase bring her groceries, no matter what seeing him at Shannon's had done to her heart. No matter how he'd looked at her.

No matter how much she missed him.

Jase was a man who would never trust. Not entirely. And that lack of trust colored everything he saw. It warped his judgment. Blinded him and made him unforgiving. It made him dangerous to a woman like her. A woman who'd barely begun to learn to trust again herself.

* * *

Jase shoved a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his scalp hard. The week since Shannon and Mike's party had been rough, to put it mildly. No one could stand to be around him. Janice had stopped picking on him altogether. The guys and Molly were there for him like they always were, but now when he walked into the room, the conversation would suddenly come to a halt.

Because they'd been talking about him.

Which might have bothered him if he could focus on anything other than how epically he'd annihilated what he was pretty certain had been a real shot at happiness with Emily. But it was there when he poured his cup of coffee in the morning, when he sat down at his desk, when he heard a funny joke, when he bought a sandwich for lunch. It was there at every instant he thought he might pick up his phone and call her.

But he couldn't call her, because she deserved a hell of a lot more than a man who couldn't see past his own emotional garbage long enough to realize that he'd allowed his fear to sabotage the only thing that mattered. He'd broken her heart because he'd been too chickenshit to allow himself to be truly vulnerable with her.

And now she was gone, and he couldn't seem to shake that roiling sense of being adrift. Of knowing something vital was missing from the very heart of him.

He didn't like it. And not just because… Shit… Well, who would like that feeling? But because it reminded him of something he'd sworn would never become a part of his life. It reminded him of his dad. Of the heartbreak he'd nearly drowned in. Of the only weakness Jase had ever seen in the man who had been his best friend, his hero, and his role model in every way except those of the heart.