Dirty Deal (Perfectly Matched 2)

“Well then, you’re absolved. Hope that makes you feel better.” All the warmth was gone from his sister’s voice, replaced with a razor-sharp edge.

“Not really. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be…” He tried to find the words, but his sister handed them to him.

“Real? Complicated?” Her brows rose.

“No. It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be nothing. And now all this?” He motioned toward Serena. “Piper and Carla—”

Q held up her hand with a dramatic eye roll. “That’s not what this is about and you know it.”

She was right. It was about so much more. Could he break a promise he’d made and give up the life he’d built for himself for a woman he’d known for less than a month? A woman who could turn out to be just like every other woman in his life?

“Forget it. You don’t understand. You expect me to give up my entire life for a stranger? I know you’re a free spirit, but that’s really out there. Even for you,” he said.

The song faded to a close and the crowd erupted in applause. Serena took her bow, beaming at him, and he smiled back, hoping it looked much more convincing than it felt.

“You know, I used to dream of the day you’d come home and meet someone, but not just because you’d finally be around again. I wanted you to find someone so that you could get some perspective and see what it’s like to be happy and live for yourself for once. But you’re totally right, as usual. I don’t understand you at all.”

“Q, come on—” He called out to her, but she’d already spun on her heel, slicing through the crowd of dancers as a little girl took the stage to sing.

His sister was mad at him, he had no idea how to handle Serena, and there was still another three hours left to this wedding reception.

There wasn’t enough scotch in the world…

…

Serena made her way to the table, legs still shaking. Q was scurrying across the room away from Bryan, a stormy expression on her face. The sight made Serena’s stomach flip-flop.

She slowed her pace but then sped up again when Bryan looked up and met her gaze. “What was that about? Everything okay with Q?”

“It was nothing. Sibling rivalry. She’s mad I won’t duet with her.”

“She should be happy. I’ve heard you sing.” She forced a grin, and he smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Her heart gave a little squeeze and she said a silent prayer that she was just imagining things.

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess.” His laugh was hollow and she knew for sure then. He was pulling away from her.

“Okay, well if you’re sure everything is all right, then let’s hit the dance floor,” she said, keeping her tone as bright as she could manage. Maybe he was just a little spooked. That was okay. She’d give him time to let the idea sit. Dancing could be a good distraction so long as the music was fast and loud. The perfect place to hide was always in a crowd, after all, and she definitely felt the need to hide because standing there with him looking at her that way was making her want to throw up. The sooner she could get things back to normal, the better. She held her hand out for him, but he hesitated. She nearly fainted with relief when he nodded slowly.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.” He took her hand and stood.

When they reached the middle of the floor, though, the multitude stopped dancing and clapped. How had that little girl’s song ended so quickly when hers seemed to take up half an hour?

She prayed for another fast song so they wouldn’t have to talk, but the DJ took the mic and said, “All right now, ladies and gentlemen. The stars are out, the candles are lit, and there’s one thing on everyone’s mind. Romance.”

Kill me. Kill me now.

“We’re going to take it down a notch and head back to a time when love was sweet and songs were slow. Grab your cutie and head out to the floor because I’ll be singing ‘Chapel of Love.’”

“He’s got a good voice, doesn’t he?” She said inanely, hyperaware that all the comfort and ease that had been between them had evaporated over the course of that one song. She’d made a serious error and would give anything for a mulligan.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Every topic of conversation felt like a land mine, and she had to be careful not to step on one.

“Such an interesting wedding so far.”

“Marcia has always been weird. Who has karaoke at a wedding?”

She shrugged, but she could feel her smile wilting as he skirted closer to the topic clearly on both of their minds. “It’s fun. Different. I liked it.”

“You’ve got a pretty voice. I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Some.”

“And the song? Interesting choice.”

Her heart stuttered, and a nugget of hope bloomed in her chest.

“You liked it?”

“Sure. I mean, you were just kidding around though, right? Being wild and kooky Serena.”

Her eyes widened and her brain went blank. She blinked once, twice, three times, and the steady sway of her dance slowed to standstill as she absorbed the blow.

But regardless of what she actually saw in front of her, in her mind’s eye was a single mushroom cloud, billowing over their heads, and the sound of her heart breaking into a million pieces.

Ka-boom.

Chapter Eleven

She should have known better.

It had been a stupid plan from the beginning. Not just the singing, but all of it. Letting him in. Even contemplating giving love a try.

What a giant crock of shit.

Jesus, he looked like an animal caught in a trap. Like she was trying to force her love on him when he didn’t feel the same way.

Like Piper.

But then again, that wasn’t so far from the truth. God, what an idiot she’d been.

She’d always known it was a bad idea, and now here was the proof. Every nightmare she’d ever had rolled into one night for her to play over and over in her head until it slowly drove her insane.

“You okay?” Bryan swiveled her around on the dance floor, and she gave a numb nod. Because what else could she do?

Showing him how she was hurting would only worsen the situation. She refused to be the kind of woman who cried alone in bathroom stalls and waited at home on Saturday nights for a man who would never call.

Besides, he wasn’t her man to begin with. She’d known what this was. Had acknowledged every road marker on the slippery slope that led to this broken heart. Had passed them anyway.

But knowing that it had been a conscious choice didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Serena?” The song closed and they broke apart to clap for the singer. Or at least she did. Bryan stared at her the whole time, waiting for an answer.

When the din finally died down, she shook her head and plastered on the world’s most painful smile. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else. You’re totally right. I got you so bad.” She laughed, but it was a grating, tinny sound.

His sad, confused smile let her know he wasn’t buying what she was selling, so she pressed on. If she changed the subject, maybe it would go away. Maybe she could make it so that every word she had sung disappeared into the nebula and they could go back to the way things were. Forget that it had ever happened.

After all, this was why she hadn’t just come out and said it. Now was her chance to backpedal. He’d handed her the out, she just didn’t realize it weighed quite so much.

On another unnatural laugh, she added, “It’s such a sappy song, I don’t know how you kept yourself from laughing in the middle of it.” Though if he had, she wouldn’t have noticed. When she was onstage, the adrenaline had surged all around her. The lights shone in her eyes. Blood thundered in her ears.

Maybe he had laughed. It was all one big joke, after all.

The back of her throat tickled, the first sign of the coming storm. The corners of her eyes stung and she cursed herself again for her idiocy.

&

nbsp; Stupid. It had all been so fucking stupid. Not only did she embarrass herself in front of his whole family, but now she was going to give him a front-row seat to her pity party?

Well, fuck that.

“I think I’m going to head home for the night. I, um, I’m not feeling well and I don’t want to get you sick, so if you want to stay at your sister’s…” The tears were fighting their way up her throat, and she cut off the sentence before her voice cracked with the evidence.