Pretend We're Over (Pretend 2)

“Please. There are plenty of hot, single men here.”

“Where?” Oaklee asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

We scour the room, but every man my eyes turn to seems to be coupled off.

“What about him?” I point to a man in tight jeans, tattoos, and long hair. He’s not really my type, he’s kind of got a biker vibe going on, but I’m trying to prove a point, not actually date the guy.

“Gay,” Cynthia answers.

“No, he’s—“ I start, but then a skinny man in leather walks over and kisses him firmly on the lips. “Fine, he’s gay. That doesn’t mean...”

“Honey, you’re thirty-two and at the last of your single friends’ weddings. I’m not saying there aren’t single men out there. There are plenty, but not here. Even if there were plenty of single men in this bar, Sebastian King would still top them all. I mean, look at the guy,” Cynthia says.

We all turn to Sebastian. He’s talking with two of the groomsmen, who are both married. He really is the only single guy in this room. How could that be? We are only in our early thirties. Plenty of people don’t get ma

rried until later in life. How did I end up with friends who all took the plunge by thirty?

Sebastian cocks his head toward us. He must have felt the three pairs of eyes staring, and at least one woman drooling in his direction. He frowns when he spots me staring and then quickly turns back to his conversation.

I exhale a breath. If he hadn’t already made it clear he wasn’t interested, that one look did it.

“He’s so dreamy,” Oaklee says.

“Down girl, you’re getting married tomorrow, remember?”

“It doesn’t mean that I can’t look at attractive men. Sebastian has always been good looking, but in the last couple of years, he’s somehow grown more muscle, more chiseled, more refined. And that dimple just above his jaw is swoon-worthy,” Oaklee says.

I let my eyes drift. I haven’t seen said dimple yet, because he has yet to smile in my direction. Shepherd makes him laugh and what do you know, he does have the sexiest dimple. I want to put my tongue in it and…

“What?” I ask when I notice Oaklee and Cynthia staring at me again.

“We all agree Sebastian is cute. You already bumped into him.”

I moan. “Don’t remind me. I literally bumped into him and made him spill his drink.”

“So? That’s a classic meet-cute moment—an adorable story to tell your kids someday.”

“We won’t be telling our kids anything because there won’t be any kids. There won’t be anything. Sebastian isn’t interested.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re hot as hell, Millie. Why wouldn’t he want to go out with you?” Oaklee asks.

I stare down at my clothes. I had every intention of wearing a dress and heels tonight like all the other girls here, but I don’t usually wear dresses. So when I packed the single dress I own, I didn’t think to try it on first. I didn’t expect the zipper to snap when I put it on tonight, only moments before we were supposed to leave—the consequences of the ice cream and wine I’ve been consuming to drown out my feelings lately.

And it wasn’t like I could borrow a dress from my abnormally skinny friends. They are a size zero, while I’m a twelve. The dress was a size ten. It was a struggle to fit my thick thighs and large breasts into the dress on a good day, let alone with the ten-pound weight gain I’m currently carrying around.

I look back up at Oaklee. I’m not going to spell out for her why a sculpted man like Sebastian wouldn’t go for a soft curvy woman like me. Even in the best shape of my life, I never looked skinny or fit. I’ve always been curvy. I don’t have a problem with that, but Sebastian King is too arrogant to be knocked off his high throne to consider dating a woman like me.

“Trust me, after basically plowing him over and spilling his drink all over him, he’s not attracted to me.”

Oaklee frowns. “I’m sure he’s just wasted like all the other guys here. He didn’t realize you were flirting with him.”

“He wasn’t drunk.” He didn’t even have a single drink, just like me.

“Well, he isn’t dating anyone. He’s a single guy. And it’s not like he has a lot of choices here,” Oaklee says absentmindedly. “Oh my god!” She looks at me. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, Millie.”

I down the rest of my water, but it does nothing for me. Screw my diet. I need a drink.

A waitress passes, and I jerk two shot glasses off her tray. She tries to stop me as the shots aren’t for me, but I don’t give a damn. I have some catching up to do. I throw both shots down, while Oaklee and Cynthia stare at me.