A Love Letter to Whiskey Page 65
Jamie followed my gaze. “I know. It teaches you patience, reminds you how insignificant you really are while also somehow making you feel invincible, too.”
“Like a soul cleanse or something.”
He nodded. “It’s not the same without you either, you know.” His right foot brushed mine under the water. “It’s weird. I surfed before I met you, I surfed all the time after you left Alder, and I still surf now that you’re gone, but it just feels different when you’re not here. Same board, same waves…” His voice trailed off. “Different vibes.”
I smiled, squinting against the strengthening sun as I peered over at him. “Always such a charmer, Jamie Shaw.” He blushed, and I swore it was the first time I’d ever seen it happen. “You’re going to have to tone that down once you have a wedding band on your finger.”
He laughed. “I think Angel will scare all the girls away without any help from me.”
“No shit,” I agreed quickly. “Like a pit bull in a sundress, that one.”
“She loves me, and she’s not afraid to go to bat for me if she has to,” he said, and even though I didn’t think he meant it to be a jab at me, it felt like one anyway. Jamie blew out a breath on a laugh then. “Holy shit, B. I’m getting married. Tomorrow.”
He lifted a brow at me, shaking his head as one of the brightest smiles I’d ever seen spread on his face. He really was so happy, and in that moment, I was, too.
“You ready?” I asked.
He stared at my hands on my board, thinking. “Yeah. I am. I really am.”
When his eyes found mine again, they were tinged with just the smallest hint of sadness. I think he saw it mirrored in my own, and he kept my gaze there, not letting me look away. We both felt it in that moment, the reality of it all. He was gaining the woman he’d love for the rest of his life, but he was losing me in the process. Maybe not all the way, but we both knew it would never be the same after that weekend.
We didn’t let ourselves mourn, though.
We surfed all morning, skin tight with sun and salt by the time we loaded up our boards and grabbed a quick bite to eat at one of the beach bars. We talked, we laughed, and for a few hours, it was just us. For all we knew, it’d be the last hours we’d ever have alone together, and we spent them wisely.
When we climbed back into his Jeep, I kicked off my sandals and propped my sandy feet on his dashboard, leaning back against the leather seat with a sigh. I closed my eyes, head dropping back against the headrest, and then I felt Jamie’s hand on mine.
I turned my wrist, palm facing up to find his as his fingers wrapped around mine. Head still back, I turned to face him, cracking my eyes open slowly. For just a flash of a second, we were seventeen again, and I remembered that first night in his Jeep like it was happening in that moment. Jamie asked me something then, not with words but with a longing look. He wanted to say something, but it was stuck in his throat, and I knew it was better if he didn’t say it out loud at all. So I squeezed his hand, and he gave me a tight smile before pulling his hand from mine and sparking the engine to life.
Looking back, we were stupid to think everything would work out. What did we expect, really? I’m not sure. The truth was we were acknowledging the fact that he was getting married while simultaneously ignoring it, too. It was a dangerous dance, neither one of us leading, both of us waiting for a cue from the other that would never come.
Jamie decided on a whim that he wanted to go camping for his bachelor party instead of just going to the bar. It seemed like such a small thing, an impulse decision, a fun reroute in the weekend, but it ended up being the first domino that brought the rest down in a loud, beautifully chaotic crash.
And all we could do was watch it happen. In slow motion and lightning speed all at once.
JAMIE HAD THE STRANGEST group of groomsmen.
As if having me as his “best man” wasn’t already weird enough, he didn’t have a single guy in his party who he’d known for longer than three years. Two of them were buddies from work, and the other was Angel’s older brother. Don’t get me wrong, he seemed close with all of them, but it was strange to me that he didn’t have a more personal connection to the guys standing beside him on his big day. I realized then that Jamie was particular about whom he opened up to, who he let in, and I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed that about him before.
The two guys from work were Ryan and Charlie, and they couldn’t have been bigger opposites. Ryan was tall and lean, with strawberry blonde hair and more freckles on his cheeks than me. He was hilarious, always cracking jokes, and he and Jamie were like two peas in a circus pod when they were together. Charlie, on the other hand, was a dick. At least, that’s how I perceived him. He was tall, too, but every inch of him was muscle. He had dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and he wore a constant frown. He never joined in on jokes with the other guys, and he seemed to always be scrutinizing me, like he was suspicious of me. Maybe he was, I couldn’t be sure because he did everything he could to avoid talking to me. Jamie showed him a high level of respect, and I wondered if that grew out of work or personal experience, but didn’t care enough to ask.
Angel’s brother, Andrew, looked just like her. Blonde hair, tan skin, bright green eyes. He seemed a little suspicious of me just like Charlie, but he was nice to me, and actually talked to me more than the other two combined. He was nice, but I couldn’t see a strong vibe between him and Jamie. I wondered if he was just in the party because Angel wanted him to be, but again, I didn’t care enough to ask.
Still, oddball bunch that we were, we were having a blast. We’d packed Jamie’s Jeep and Charlie’s truck with camping gear, way too much food and an obnoxious amount of booze and headed out to the springs. I’d never set up a tent before, and to be honest we all kind of sucked at it, but we figured it out eventually, with the help of Bud Light, of course. It was so low key and casual after that, just the five of us hanging around a fire drinking and eating and laughing. We set up a table and played drinking games, which I hadn’t played since college, and I found out that though my surfing skills hadn’t waned over the years, my ability to get a stupid white ping pong ball into a red plastic cup had.
It was an easy night, relaxed, and that’s just what Jamie wanted. I loved him even more for that, for not wanting strippers and gambling and cigars. No one in the group seemed to care that we weren’t out on the town, either. We were all content, and for a while, I relaxed. The weekend hadn’t been so bad after all.