Rebound Envy (Rebound #2) (8 page)

I have a hard time sitting still under Jenna's watchful eye, so I pick up the grocery sack, knowing our usual ice cream selections are inside, and go stash them in the freezer until we're ready for them. "I just got tired of waiting around, Jen. Of trying to make it work with someone who obviously has such different priorities."

She watches me as I come back into the living room with two plates and an extra wine glass. I set them down on the coffee table and open the pizza box, handing her a slice of pizza on a plate before getting my own and pouring wine for both of us. "Why did you set me up with him? You had to have seen how different we are."

She shrugs, taking a bite of pizza. I could swear she's even blushing a little. "I didn't expect it to turn into much of anything. He's single and really hot. I was trying to do for you what you did for me."

"What are you talking about?" My pizza is still sitting on the table, untouched. I can't eat while we have this conversation. I'm not that hungry anyway.

"I was trying to find you a hot guy so you could get laid." She's meeting my eye, her gaze direct and unembarrassed now.

"That doesn't make any sense. You were so invested in us getting together."

She shrugs and looks away again. "You seemed happy still dating him, like you wanted it to work however unlikely the match seemed on the surface. I figured encouraging you wouldn't be a bad thing. I thought you saw more in him than I did since you were getting to know him as a romantic interest, not just a work colleague." She pauses for a moment. "Like I said, I wanted to do what you did for me. It's because of you that I met Brian. I was trying to return the favor."

I sit back on the couch, pulling a throw pillow into my lap, folding and unfolding the tag while I think over what she just said. A laugh escapes me. "You know, Scott said the reason he wanted to take things slow was because he didn't want to be just a quick fuck. But that's exactly what you intended him to be."

Jenna smiles, her cheeks turning pink. She talks about sex more openly than she used to, but crude language still makes her blush most of the time. "Well, you kept complaining about your dry spell, and then things with Adam didn't go well. I thought a one-night stand or a quick and dirty fling might be good for you. Boost your confidence a little."

I refocus on the tag, folding and unfolding it some more. "I appreciate the concern, Jen. I could probably find myself a one-night stand or a quick and dirty fling if I wanted. I'd prefer to have something more than that, though."

I can feel her eyes on me and I look up. Her face is sad and wistful. "I know. I figured that out when you kept dating Scott."

I open my mouth, but then press my lips together, wanting and not wanting to say what I'm thinking. Jenna notices, though. "What is it?"

I shake my head, not meeting her eye, still messing with the tag on the pillow. "Nothing."

She sighs. "Spit it out, Amy."

I look up at her and then away again. "I'm jealous. Of you. And what you have with Brian." My words come out in spurts, my mouth clamping shut between each tiny sentence. I don't want to say it, but once I've started the words force their way out despite my desire to keep them in. "I want that too. With someone."
 

I risk a glance at her, not able to bring myself to say the last part. That I'm jealous she's had it twice and I haven't even had it once. Even if the first time was tragically ripped away from her. I can't say that because it would hurt her, and Jenna's my best friend.

"I know." Her face is a mask of pity. It's too much.

I toss the pillow at her. "Stop looking at me like that. You know I get maudlin when I've had too much wine."

She reaches for another slice of pizza. "You said you weren't drunk."

"I'm not." I pick up the half empty bottle of wine. "But I've been working my way through this all afternoon. I'm not drunk, but I've had a steady stream of alcohol in my system for several hours now."
 

Jenna laughs and hands me my untouched slice of pizza. "Eat. You probably need something in your stomach if you've been drinking all afternoon and intend to continue."

"Yes, Mom." She sticks out her tongue at me and I grin around the pizza in my mouth.

We settle back and continue watching
The Office.
After we eat all the pizza we want, Jenna retrieves the ice cream from the freezer. She's just opening hers while we wait for the next episode to start. "I don't get one thing, though."

I stop with the spoon partway to my mouth. "What's that?"

"If you weren't that into Scott, why the moping and the drinking and the binge watching Netflix?"

I let the ice cream melt on my tongue, savoring the combination of chocolate and cherries in Cherry Garcia, before answering. "I'm sad about the idea of Scott. And the fact that I stuck with him for two months when I knew a lot sooner that it wasn't going to work out. I'm throwing myself a pity party. Parties need wine." I turn to her and smile. "Thanks for bringing the pizza and ice cream."

Jenna smiles back. "Any time. You can always invite me to your pity parties. I'll show up every time."

We sit back and watch a couple more episodes of
The Office
. Jenna leaves around eight thirty, ready to go meet her fiancé who's on his way home from The Barrel Room.
 

I take a shower, feeling fuzzy and gross after a day spent on the couch drinking wine and watching TV. Despite that, I'm feeling better about my life after my pity party. While it's still true that I want what Jenna has, I'm also aware that I'm not going to settle and wait for someone to become who or what I want him to be. Life's too short for that. As nice and beautiful as Scott is, I'm glad it's over.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I plug my iPhone into the stereo system in my car and start Alice Cooper's "School's Out." Singing along at the top of my lungs on the way home, I replace "teachers" with "students" in the line about dirty looks.

It's June 10. I told my students goodbye for the year, signed yearbooks, and wished the graduating seniors success in their future endeavors two days ago. My classroom is cleaned up, things stored for the summer, and my grades turned in. I'm officially on summer vacation.

Not that this next week will be much of a vacation. Brian and Jenna are getting married next Saturday, and the next week will be full of parties and get-togethers. And all that craziness starts tonight. Brian's family has flown in from Wisconsin, and we're having a little party at The Barrel Room tonight for the wedding party and out-of-town family and friends that have arrived already.

Jenna's bridal shower will be at brunch on Sunday. She insisted on waiting until now so that Brian's mom and sister could come. That will be at my house.

The bachelorette party will be on Thursday night, the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday, and the wedding on Saturday. And somewhere in there we have to find time to finish putting together the table centerpieces and wedding favors.

While all of that sounds exhausting enough, the thing that I'm worried about is the party tonight. I haven't been to The Barrel Room since I told off Adam just before Spring Break.
 

It doesn't feel like it's been over two months, but it has. The time between Spring Break and the end of the school year always feels like a vortex that pulls you down, down, down until you reach the end. All you can do is try to keep your head above water and hold your breath when you inevitably get pulled under.
 

Instead of being able to breathe now that school is done, I have another swirling vortex sucking me into its depths. And in the center of that vortex, I'll have to face Adam again.

I left without giving him a chance to say anything two months ago, and I've made Jenna meet with me anywhere but there to hang out or go over wedding planning. She hasn't said anything, but whenever she mentions going there and I demur, I can tell she's wondering if I'll ever go with her again.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I'm on my way. I'm looking forward to meeting Cate, Brian's sister and Jenna's other bridesmaid. We've talked on the phone a couple times and it will be nice to meet her in person.

I walk in the door of The Barrel Room and am immediately pulled into a hug. Familiar perfume tickles my nose as I hug the smaller woman back.

"Amy! I'm so glad to see you!"

I pull her in for another squeeze. "It's good to see you, too, Gloria! It's been too long."

Jenna's mom pulls back. Her once dark hair is now almost completely silver and cut into a spunky pixie cut similar to Jamie Lee Curtis. She looks gorgeous in a lavender fitted sheath dress. She looks older than the last time I saw her over a year ago, but still full of life. She grabs my hand and drags me to a group of people.

Ed, Jenna's dad, pulls me into a bear hug, and I'm engulfed in his embrace. Tall, barrel chested, and balding, he's imposing to look at but is really a big teddy bear. "Amy, I'm glad you're here."

He loosens his grip on me to smile down into my face. My smile back is just as wide. "Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"

He just laughs and squeezes me again. Jenna's parents practically adopted me when we were in college. Her house was only an hour from campus, whereas my parents are on the other side of the country. I only went home for long breaks, and we went to Jenna's on long weekends or whenever we just needed to get away from school for a day or two. I always wondered why they didn't have any more children after Jenna. They have so much love to spread around.

When I finally get to step back, Jenna comes in for a quick hug. "Come on. You have to meet Cate and the rest of Brian's family." I give an apologetic wave to her parents as she's dragging me to another group of people.

She introduces me to Brian's parents, Martin and Ingrid. Brian takes after his mother, with her honey blonde hair and blue eyes. She's as tall as I am and still slim. Martin is taller and dark, his hair going a little gray around the temples, a full beard gracing his jaw. They both smile warmly and shake my hand.

Jenna turns me to the left. A slightly shorter version of Brian with longer hair is standing there. "You must be Brian's brother."

His eyes travel up and down my body, unmistakable appreciation in his gaze before he smiles and offers his hand. "Connor."

I return his frank appraisal before placing my hand in his. "Nice to meet you."

A petite woman with short dark hair steps forward, interrupting my little moment with Connor. Jenna gestures to her. "This is Cate." Cate looks nothing like her brothers, her dark hair obviously coming from her father, but with blue eyes like her mom and brothers. The contrast of her bright blue eyes with her dark hair is startling. Her royal blue dress highlights her eye color even more.

Instead of offering her hand, Cate steps forward and hugs me.
 

I recover from my initial shock quickly and squeeze back before she steps away. "It's so good to finally meet you."

She beams up at me. "I'm happy to meet you, too. It's always nice to put a face to someone I've been talking to for months."

"I know what you mean."
 

Brian claims my attention for a moment with a glass of wine and a brief kiss on the cheek by way of greeting. He tugs Jenna away with him and I fall into easy conversation with Cate and Connor. They tell me funny stories of Brian growing up, Cate talks about graduating last month from the University of Illinois at Chicago.
 

I'm silently marveling at how well this little get-together is going. Both families are getting along well, the room is filled with laughter and talking, and I haven't seen Adam yet. That's a little strange, given that he's the best man, but is a welcome relief.

"So, Amy, have you thought any more about the bachelorette party?" Cate draws my attention back to the conversation.

"A little. I know Jenna doesn't want strippers or anything. I thought we might go downtown and do a pub crawl. There are a lot of fun bars that we can check out all within easy walking distance of each other." I finish off the glass of wine Brian brought me earlier, and cast a glance over my shoulder to see who's manning the bar.

Adam is standing there, opening a fresh bottle for someone and staring directly at me. Our eyes lock, his gaze holding mine, and I have no idea what Cate is saying to me. Heat prickles on my neck and cheeks, and I can't break eye contact, even though I really want to.

A hand on my arm allows me to break away. "Amy? Are you okay?"
 

I turn back to find Cate examining my face with a concerned look. I force a laugh. "Of course! I'm fine!" I sound overly enthusiastic even to myself.

Cate looks doubtful. "Are you sure?" She steps to the side so she can look behind me, her eyes flicking back and forth trying to figure out what has me so flustered. Her gaze returns to my face. "You got really pale and then turned all red."

I wave a hand. "It's nothing. The wine must've just gone to my head. Drinking on an empty stomach and all that."

She nods slowly, still not quite buying what I'm selling. "Alright. I think there are some hors d'oeuvres. Would you like to go get some?"

"Um. Yes. Right. That sounds good." I sound ridiculous and stilted and Cate is still watching me closely as though she's afraid I'm ill or crazy. Probably both.

I follow her to the tables set up near the bar laden with trays and chafing dishes of delicious bite-sized foods. I manage to regain some composure while I'm loading up a plate. Cate keeps eyeing me, but seems to accept that I'm okay again for now.

The rest of the evening passes without incident. There was one dicey moment where Adam almost cornered me when I came out of the bathroom. He was waiting for me at the entrance to the hallway, looking like he wanted to speak to me. Brian pulled him away while I stood by the door trying to decide what to do.
 

Now, if only I can survive the rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, and the wedding itself with the same amount of contact. Of course, I'll have to be near him while we're walking back down the aisle at the end of the ceremony. Hopefully I can manage to keep him from talking to me more than necessary. If so, I just might survive this week.