Yes, that Emerson. The guy she’s marrying in approximately thirty-two hours.
Daniel clearly remembers it all too well, but he gives me a polite smile all the same. “How have you been?” he asks. “I heard you moved out here after graduation.”
“Yup, LA. I came to make it in Hollywood! Event planner to the stars!” I make jazz hands, then immediately wish the ground would swallow me up.
Jazz hands? Way to play it cool, Lacey.
“That’s great,” Daniel smiles, “I was just out here for some depositions. I’ll have to look you up the next time I’m in town.”
“Sure, sounds good.” I try to think of something to say that won’t make me sound like a total idiot—an idiot who can’t take her eyes off his dark stubble and well-fitted navy coat. I always thought Daniel was cute, but in the six months since I saw him last, his whole preppy lawyer look has gotten a new polish.
Dangerously attractive.
And your best friend’s ex. Totally off-limits.
I drag my eyes away from the line of his lean physique. “You heading home for the holidays?” I yelp.
Daniel nods. “Back to New York. What about you?”
“I’m, umm, heading East.” I say carefully.
But not carefully enough. Daniel gets a look of realization. “Oh, right. That’s this weekend.”
I stay silent, feeling like the worst human being in the world.
“It’s OK,” Daniel must see my discomfort, because he gives me a quiet smile. “He proposed. I knew it would happen.”
“Right.” My heart twists with sympathy. He’s still in love with her—he has to be. They were together for a year, even engaged by the end of it. They were planning a whole life together, right up until Juliet went back to Beachwood Bay and discovered that her old life, and love, was where her heart really lay. “I better get going,” I say quickly. “I’m going to miss my flight.”
“Me too,” Daniel jolts back to attention, checking his watch. “Say hi to everyone for me. I wish them the best,” he adds, and I can see, he really means it.
Hot and noble. Damn but he’s got it down.
“I will,” I grab my stuff, and back away. “Happy holidays!”
I make it to the gate with seconds to spare, and a whole new resolve to take up one of those trendy cardio ballet classes when I get back to LA. If there’s even a place here for me to get back to, but I’ll worry about that later. For now, I’m just relieved I’ve made it on the flight.
“Thank you, thank you!” I practically hug the hostess as she swipes my boarding pass and ushers me into the boarding tunnel. It’s crammed full of people, but nobody’s moving, so I take a chance to catch my breath and process the unexpected encounter that’s still got me reeling.
Daniel.
Damn, but he looked good. Then again, he always did. That was the problem. From the very first day Juliet brought him by the coffee shop after class to introduce him, I knew I was doomed. It wasn’t just his gorgeous caramel-colored eyes, or the way he laughed, or how he always acted like he couldn’t wait to talk to you. It was the way he looked at her: like she was a precious gemstone, delicate and rare, and he’d do anything to protect her.
Nobody has looked at me that way, and I doubt they ever will. I’m not that girl: the girlfriend, the good one, the kind they adore. I’m the ‘wild party ‘til two AM/wake up forgetting where her pants are/ sneak out to avoid awkward morning-after conversation’ girl. I’ve had some fun times for sure, but no guy has ever showed up with chicken soup when I cancelled our date, sick, or found a first edition copy of my favorite childhood book just because I mentioned it that one time.
Most of the time, they never even remembered my name.
I know, it’s the cardinal sin to lust after your best friend’s boyfriend, and I swear, I did my best to stop. I cleared out whenever he came around, I hooked up with any other guy I could find, I told myself that I would get bored of Daniel’s perfect gentleman routine in like, five seconds flat if, in some alternate universe, he’d looked my way instead of Juliet’s.
It wasn’t like I had some epic crush. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. I just … noticed him, that’s all. I wondered what it would be like, if the situation was reversed, and I had a man who loved me that much, and treated me so well.
So when Juliet went back to Beachwood Bay six months ago and fell headlong back in crazy, passionate love with Emerson, her bad-boy ex, I couldn’t understand it. She was throwing away the perfect man: hurting Daniel when he’d done nothing wrong at all. Of course, I managed to stay mad at Juliet for about five minutes, until I realized just how torn she was about the whole situation—and how much she and Emerson clearly belonged together. They have that epic, soul-mates, meant-to-be thing going on, and poor Daniel was just an inevitable casualty of their happily-ever-after. He even took it like a man, too: nobly bowing out and wishing her the best once he realized there was no messing with fate. How strong and decent is that?
Except strong and decent still winds up alone. I feel a rush of sympathy, remembering the look on his face when I brought up the wedding. Trust me to kick him when he’s down. He’s probably still nursing a broken heart.
Or moved on to some other perfect, sweet, nice girl. The kind who doesn’t hook up on the first date, and bakes pie instead of using her oven as an underwear drawer …
Daniel clearly remembers it all too well, but he gives me a polite smile all the same. “How have you been?” he asks. “I heard you moved out here after graduation.”
“Yup, LA. I came to make it in Hollywood! Event planner to the stars!” I make jazz hands, then immediately wish the ground would swallow me up.
Jazz hands? Way to play it cool, Lacey.
“That’s great,” Daniel smiles, “I was just out here for some depositions. I’ll have to look you up the next time I’m in town.”
“Sure, sounds good.” I try to think of something to say that won’t make me sound like a total idiot—an idiot who can’t take her eyes off his dark stubble and well-fitted navy coat. I always thought Daniel was cute, but in the six months since I saw him last, his whole preppy lawyer look has gotten a new polish.
Dangerously attractive.
And your best friend’s ex. Totally off-limits.
I drag my eyes away from the line of his lean physique. “You heading home for the holidays?” I yelp.
Daniel nods. “Back to New York. What about you?”
“I’m, umm, heading East.” I say carefully.
But not carefully enough. Daniel gets a look of realization. “Oh, right. That’s this weekend.”
I stay silent, feeling like the worst human being in the world.
“It’s OK,” Daniel must see my discomfort, because he gives me a quiet smile. “He proposed. I knew it would happen.”
“Right.” My heart twists with sympathy. He’s still in love with her—he has to be. They were together for a year, even engaged by the end of it. They were planning a whole life together, right up until Juliet went back to Beachwood Bay and discovered that her old life, and love, was where her heart really lay. “I better get going,” I say quickly. “I’m going to miss my flight.”
“Me too,” Daniel jolts back to attention, checking his watch. “Say hi to everyone for me. I wish them the best,” he adds, and I can see, he really means it.
Hot and noble. Damn but he’s got it down.
“I will,” I grab my stuff, and back away. “Happy holidays!”
I make it to the gate with seconds to spare, and a whole new resolve to take up one of those trendy cardio ballet classes when I get back to LA. If there’s even a place here for me to get back to, but I’ll worry about that later. For now, I’m just relieved I’ve made it on the flight.
“Thank you, thank you!” I practically hug the hostess as she swipes my boarding pass and ushers me into the boarding tunnel. It’s crammed full of people, but nobody’s moving, so I take a chance to catch my breath and process the unexpected encounter that’s still got me reeling.
Daniel.
Damn, but he looked good. Then again, he always did. That was the problem. From the very first day Juliet brought him by the coffee shop after class to introduce him, I knew I was doomed. It wasn’t just his gorgeous caramel-colored eyes, or the way he laughed, or how he always acted like he couldn’t wait to talk to you. It was the way he looked at her: like she was a precious gemstone, delicate and rare, and he’d do anything to protect her.
Nobody has looked at me that way, and I doubt they ever will. I’m not that girl: the girlfriend, the good one, the kind they adore. I’m the ‘wild party ‘til two AM/wake up forgetting where her pants are/ sneak out to avoid awkward morning-after conversation’ girl. I’ve had some fun times for sure, but no guy has ever showed up with chicken soup when I cancelled our date, sick, or found a first edition copy of my favorite childhood book just because I mentioned it that one time.
Most of the time, they never even remembered my name.
I know, it’s the cardinal sin to lust after your best friend’s boyfriend, and I swear, I did my best to stop. I cleared out whenever he came around, I hooked up with any other guy I could find, I told myself that I would get bored of Daniel’s perfect gentleman routine in like, five seconds flat if, in some alternate universe, he’d looked my way instead of Juliet’s.
It wasn’t like I had some epic crush. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. I just … noticed him, that’s all. I wondered what it would be like, if the situation was reversed, and I had a man who loved me that much, and treated me so well.
So when Juliet went back to Beachwood Bay six months ago and fell headlong back in crazy, passionate love with Emerson, her bad-boy ex, I couldn’t understand it. She was throwing away the perfect man: hurting Daniel when he’d done nothing wrong at all. Of course, I managed to stay mad at Juliet for about five minutes, until I realized just how torn she was about the whole situation—and how much she and Emerson clearly belonged together. They have that epic, soul-mates, meant-to-be thing going on, and poor Daniel was just an inevitable casualty of their happily-ever-after. He even took it like a man, too: nobly bowing out and wishing her the best once he realized there was no messing with fate. How strong and decent is that?
Except strong and decent still winds up alone. I feel a rush of sympathy, remembering the look on his face when I brought up the wedding. Trust me to kick him when he’s down. He’s probably still nursing a broken heart.
Or moved on to some other perfect, sweet, nice girl. The kind who doesn’t hook up on the first date, and bakes pie instead of using her oven as an underwear drawer …
