Chapter Nine
Four years ago
Cash linked his arm with Kristy’s and started down the aisle of Garden Oaks Baptist Church. The groomsmen were walking the bridesmaids down the aisle, and as best man and maid of honor, they were last, followed only by two of Callie’s little cousins acting as ring bearer and flower girl.
“Are you okay?” Kristy whispered, shooting him a sideways look as they walked.
“Yeah!” He’d said that a bit too loudly. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look great.”
He swallowed. “Little hungover from last night.” This time he whispered.
“Ah.”
He helped Kristy climb the oak steps at the front of the church in her high heels and moved to join his other friends next to Beau. They watched the little flower girl toss rose petals onto the floor as she walked, beaming, down the aisle.
The music changed, swelling and growing louder. The double doors at the back of the church were flung wide, and Callie and her dad appeared framed in the doorway in a moment that made his heart stop, then lurch into an uneven rhythm.
God. God. She was beautiful. Her white dress was like another princess dress, the skirt floating around her. She carried roses in shades of pink that matched the bridesmaids’ pink dresses. As she walked down the aisle she glowed, smiling and glancing shyly from side to side at everyone who’d gathered there to witness her and Beau commit to each other.
He looked at Beau smiling with satisfaction as he watched his bride glide down the aisle.
Cash wanted to punch him.
Sweat broke out beneath his tux, and he closed his eyes briefly. He hated himself for how he was feeling. He’d hated himself for years now…secretly lusting after his best friend’s girl. What kind of douchehole did that? Why couldn’t he just get over this? She could never be his, and he needed to accept that.
What he needed was another chug from the flask of bourbon in his pocket.
His stomach was rolling with nausea, so that probably wasn’t a good idea.
He swiped at the perspiration on his forehead and attempted to smile.
Callie arrived at the front and smiled at Beau. She handed her bouquet to Kristy, turned, and met Cash’s eyes, giving him a tiny smile before turning her attention to the minister.
The minister started to talk, but he didn’t hear a word of it.
A knot burned in his stomach, and his breathing quickened. There was a roaring in his ears as he fought for composure. How could this happen? How could she marry him?
“…anyone present who has just cause why this couple should not be united…”
He opened his mouth. His throat constricted. He exhaled a hard gust, fighting back nausea.
He could not puke. He could not puke here at the front of the church in front of all these people.
Through the buzzing in his ears, he vaguely heard Callie and Beau promise “to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in joy and sorrow, forsaking all others, as long as they both shall live.”
He was actually seeing spots, his vision darkening. Now he was worried he was going to pass out. Just keel right over up here. Hang on. Hang on.
“You may kiss your bride.”
With beaming smiles, the couple faced each other, and Beau bent his head and kissed her.
Cash’s jaw ached from clenching it.
He’d seen them kiss before. More than once he’d had to leave the room when they started making out. He couldn’t handle it. But this kiss was the worst of all…because it meant the end.
He’d never really hoped that Callie would ever be his, but at this moment he realized…maybe he had. Maybe there’d always been a tiny seed of hopefulness that somehow…someday…fuck. He hated himself for that, too. What kind of friend was he?
When his dad had left them, he’d thought a lot about what kind of man could do that. He’d seen how shattered and lost his mom had been. He and his sister had been devastated, too. He’d vowed to not be that kind of man. He wanted to be a better man—a man of honor. A man who did the right things, a man who was honest and moral.
Coveting his best friend’s girlfriend was not the right thing. He forgave himself for not being honest about that, because in his mind, never telling Beau or Callie the truth about how he felt was the right thing to do. But even having those feelings—that endless yearning, that painful craving—made him a dishonorable man, in his own estimation.
He had to do better.
He had to get over her.
But first he was going to get shitfaced drunk.