Suzanne needed him, and he still didn’t have the heart to tell her it was over. At least that’s what Preston said. Considering he spent most of his free time with her, leaving me with the occasional weeknight or two, it was clearly very much not over, and I wasn’t sure if it would ever be over. If I brought it up, he told me it was “complicated,” reminded me of the loss she’d suffered, and praised me for my compassion and understanding.

I might not have liked it, but I did understand. I’d been devastated when my dad died, so as much as I hated sharing Preston, I understood how badly Suzanne needed his support. His dedication to her and her family just showed how kind he was and how much he cared about his friends.

So I was patient.

And according to Diane, pretty fucking stupid.

“What do you mean, he’s dating someone else?”

“You know, for a little girl, you have a big mouth,” I pointed out as I wiped down the luncheonette tables after the noon rush. “I don’t think they heard you down at the gas station on the corner. You want to repeat that?”

“I just don’t understand why.”

“I told you. Her mother just died.”

She shook her head. “No, why are you dating a loser who has a girlfriend?”

I was going to point out that Suzanne wasn’t really his girlfriend, but if he’d never actually broken it off, then she was. Technically.

“Look. I care about him, and other than this one thing, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Isn’t that enough?”

“No, it isn’t. And that one thing is fucking huge. Don’t you think you deserve someone all to yourself?”

“I’m not ready to be in a serious relationship.” At least that’s what I’d been trying to convince myself. “I have Izzy to think about. I don’t have time to be worrying about some guy full time.”

“I’ve known you all your life. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not. Besides, you said you liked him.”

“That was before I knew he was a Bluebeard.”

I shoved a stack of napkins into the metal holder and slammed it shut. “A pirate?”

She rolled her eyes. “That was Blackbeard. Bluebeard was the one who killed all his wives.”

“So now he’s a murderer?”

She pulled me into the booth alongside her.

“Rain, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to work. Other than that, I’m having a little fun, that’s all.”

Her eyes connected with mine, but it was the frown tugging at the corners of her mouth that told me just how disappointed she was with me. I hated that she felt that way.

“Is he coming to the wedding?” she asked.

“Oh, now it’s okay to invite him to your wedding?” I was being bitchy, but I couldn’t help it. I was tired of having to defend myself.

Diane kept glaring at me, waiting.

“He’s going to be out of town that weekend.”

She swirled the straw in her Diet Coke. “Do you believe that?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

“Did you think maybe he told you that as an excuse not to come, so that no one sees you together and reports back to the girlfriend? Think about it, Rain. When you see him, it’s at your place or at Blondie’s. If he does take you out, it’s to some dark, out of the way place none of his hoity-toity friends would go. I never expected you to turn into someone who would let some guy hide your light under a bushel.”

Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. I struggled to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“I’m getting you a date for the wedding.”

“I already have a date. Wally’s brother. Isn’t Bobby supposed to be my date?”

I was Diane’s maid of honor, while Bobby was Wally’s best man.

“He’s your escort, not your date,” she said patiently. “He’s married, remember? Or are you only interested in men who are unavailable?”

The wedding was less than a week away. Even if I wanted a date, it was too late to find someone at this point. So I lied. “To be honest, I’ll have a better time by myself. I can dance with all the good-looking, unattached men. I can mingle. Actually, I prefer it.”

Given the sour look on her face—and the fact we’d been friends so long—she didn’t believe me.

“Are you going to keep seeing Preston?”

I fixed my face in an evil glare. “Diane.”

“Rain,” she said, mimicking me.

I grabbed my rag and climbed out of the booth.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

I didn’t need to be psychic to know she didn’t believe me that time either.