Game On (Game On 1)

“See what I have to put up with?” McCoy asked Billy, putting his hand on my shoulder with more familiarity than I liked. It made me think of Taylor, and I shrugged him off, keeping a smile on my face so Billy wouldn’t think I was being rude.

Bloody stupid British manners!

“I'm sure Alison and Michael won't mind if you come along. Having a celebrity at his wedding will make Michael’s day!”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Radleigh said, his words oozing fake modesty. “It wouldn’t be right to intrude.”

How I refrained from rolling my eyes at his little act, I'll never know.

“Besides,” I added, “he probably doesn't have anything suitable to wear.”

“I do. I brought a few extra things along with me.”

“Well, that's settled then,” Billy said, smiling. “I have to run but I'll catch you guys later!”

The moment Billy left, I spun round to look at McCoy. His eyes glimmered with barely suppressed pride at his bullshitting skills.

“I could kill you. Who the hell do you think you are? You are not coming to this party, no way. Make up an excuse, anything. You're not coming.”

“Why not? It might be fun.”

My hatred for him had never been stronger. Not content with groping Taylor and kicking the snot out of Miguel, he had to seek me out in Boston to make my life even more uncomfortable. And fun? The only thing I wanted to do with him that could ever fall into that category would certainly not be “fun” for him.

“I’m not about to ruin my friends' wedding by bringing you along,” I snarled.

“But Billy’s expecting me. You wouldn’t want to let him down, would you?”

I had two choices. I could scream at him and increase his amusement, or I could take a deep breath and accept that there was no way I was going to get rid of him easily. For the sake of my sanity, and to stop him looking any more smug, I had to calm down.

Gently massaging my forehead to ease the headache that was rapidly coming on, I sighed. “Whatever.”

He grinned triumphantly. “What time do you want me?”

“Seven thirty,” I answered, unenthusiastically. “If you must come, don't be late. I won't wait for you.”

“Lighten up, Leah. We might even have a good time.”

“Screw you.”

With one last look of superiority, Radleigh headed out the door and I let out a loud growl of frustration.

Stacey poked her head out from around the bathroom door. “What's up?”

“McCoy. How dare he come here and ruin my time off? I could throttle him!”

“Easy, Leah,” Stacey said. “I assume he's gone now?”

“Oh sure, he's gone. But while you were showering, Billy stopped by and invited McCoy along to the party.”

She may not have known the situation, but Stacey could clearly see that it wasn't a smart move on Billy's part.

“Want my advice?” Stacey asked. “Start drinking. You won't find him nearly as annoying when you’re drunk. And if you end up punching him, you can say you weren't aware of what you were doing.”

I chuckled. “Sounds good to me!”

When Stacey vacated the bathroom, I jumped in to the shower to begin my usual pre-partying routine. After showering and washing my hair, I slipped into my bathrobe and began sorting out the disaster that was my hair. As I was straightening it, Stacey popped into my room with a glass of vodka and coke.

“Here,” she said, setting the glass down on the dressing table. “I thought this might help calm you down.”