The Rivalry

“Dude!”

The voice rang out from my left. Relief tore across Brody’s face as he hurried toward me. I clenched my jaw. Whenever Brody used dude instead of your name, it signaled trouble, or he was about to demand a favor.

When Dave said Brody was going to be a groomsman, I’d been surprised. I hadn’t realized they were still close. We’d played ball together and ran in the same circle in high school, but I had no clue what he’d been up to once I left for college. But now that I’d seen the enormous bridal party, I wondered if Brody was just there to fill the roster.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You gotta drive Jeremy home.”

Did I know a Jeremy? “Who?”

“Dave’s cousin. Some of them were doing shots of Fireball during the cocktail hour, and he’s fucking wasted. He puked in a trashcan, right in front of Marcy’s mom.” Brody gripped the lapels of his tux jacket and straightened the coat on his shoulders as if uncomfortable. His voice dropped low. “Words were exchanged, man. She wants him to leave.”

“Sorry,” I said. “You’ve got to find someone else.” I was going to get my drink, and then start planning my next move with Kayla. Kissing her was already the highlight of my summer break. If Dave’s text hadn’t interrupted us, I was pretty sure we’d still be out there.

“You sober?” Brody asked. “Because pretty much no one else is, and this kid is fucked up.”

“Kid?” I groaned.

“He’s like, eighteen? Diapers, man. He can’t hold his liquor at all.”

If he was eighteen, of course not. Fuck. So, Brody wasn’t just asking me to give him a ride. “I’m not driving him to the hotel and then getting stuck with babysitting duty all night.”

Brody scowled. “You don’t get it. Marcy’s mom wants him gone. Like, from the face of the earth, gone.”

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked. I hadn’t realized I was at the front now and holding up the line.

“He doesn’t need anything,” Brody said. He latched a hand onto my shoulder and tried to pull me from the bar, but I wasn’t the type of guy who was easy to push around. When I didn’t move, his expression soured. “Fine, dude. You’re not going to help? You can explain to Dave why you let his douche cousin ruin his wedding.”

Okay, I was thoroughly annoyed now. I tried to be a standup guy who was always there for his friends, and I didn’t like what Brody insinuated. I didn’t have time to call him on it, however. He turned and took two steps away from me, only to skid to a stop.

“Shit,” he muttered.

A guy appeared from the crowd and stumbled toward Brody. His suit was big. Too big. It didn’t fit him right, as if it had been borrowed. The tie was so loose it hung like a necklace around his neck. Judging by his glazed eyes, he was lit like I hadn’t been in years. This had to be Jeremy.

“Brody! Where’d cha go?” the guy slurred out.

“Let’s get you water and some air.” Brody slung an arm around the kid’s shoulders, basically holding him up, and cast a final glare at me.

Shit, shit, shit. “Wait a minute.” I followed him. “All right.” I wasn’t going to let Dave’s cousin die of alcohol poisoning, because that kind of shit put a real damper on an evening. “Give me a minute to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, me, too!” Jeremy blurted out loudly. “Goodbye, everybody! I’m going to miss you all. Everyone, except for Marcy’s bitch of a mom!”

An older couple nearby startled at the outburst. Fuck. I dug my keys out of my pocket and tossed them to Brody. “Get a head-start to my car. Black Dodge Charger.”

He snatched them out of the air and looked relieved.

I watched them shuffle off and grimaced. Twenty bucks said that kid was going to hurl in my car, and this was not how I wanted the rest of my night to go.

Neither Kayla nor Marcy were outside on the patio where I’d left them. I cut back through the ballroom and was ambushed by a guy who wanted to shoot the shit and ask for an autograph. I tried to wrap it up as quickly as possible without being a dick. I nodded unenthusiastically as he yammered on, but I strained my neck looking around for Kayla, and the newlyweds.

Every second that ticked by was one I didn’t have. Where’d they go? The interior of my car was on borrowed time. Kayla’s purse was still on the table, which meant she hadn’t come back to it yet. Should I wait there for her? And, what the hell was I going to say when she appeared? Inviting her back to my hotel room would make me sound like a presumptuous creep.