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Maggie

“Have you started packing for…where is it that you’re going for Kendall and Monty’s wedding?” Theo asks out of the blue while we’re eating dinner at the table. Chinese takeout since I’m only decent with baking things that involve a lot of sugar. He also brought home two pints of strawberry cheesecake ice cream for dessert, like usual, an indulgence that I absolutely do not need but will finish off by tomorrow night.

“St. Christopher. It’s an island near…other islands in the Caribbean,” I answer since I couldn’t find it on a map if my life depended on it. “And no, I’ve been dreading it so much that I haven’t booked my ticket. God, I’m dreading having to try on swimsuits.”

I could’ve sworn Theo winces at my response, but then he’s back to scowling again into his container of rice. It’s his usual expression, although I can’t help but notice that it’s been a little deeper ever since Natalie slammed the door the morning I got here.

I never could figure out what he saw in the six-foot tall, gorgeous blonde.

They had absolutely nothing in common.

Other than their model-perfect looks.

Love of designer labels.

And obsession with work.

I’ve often wondered if Theo and Natalie had to sit down with their calendars just to negotiate and schedule foreplay.

Not that I like thinking about the two of them together.

Or what Theo would be like in bed.

He’s probably a perfect combination of both, that he pregames with a checklist to be thorough.

Passionate kissing. Check.

Moaning for more. Check.

Shaking my head and those thoughts away, I tell him with a grin, “If I didn’t love Kendall so much, I would pretend I was sick and bail. But she would know better and just come drag my ass onto the plane anyway.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees. “And I don’t suppose you would approve of me putting the asshole in the hospital to keep him from going?”

I laugh and tell him, “Kendall would love that for about five seconds before realizing that Monty would be devastated.”

“I still don’t understand why he ended things with you,” Theo mutters.

“What’s done is done,” I say, quickly brushing his incorrect assumption aside.

“How do you feel about seeing him again?” he asks.

“Eh, I would have to do it, eventually. Would I prefer to face him somewhere less romantic while my best friend walks down the aisle in a white gown? Sure. But the week will be like a Band-Aid. I’ll just have to rip it off.”

“Trapped on an island in paradise with your ex for six nights while he no doubt begs for another chance. How bad could that be?” Theo asks, now sounding almost angry.

“I doubt he’ll beg or even ask for another chance,” I assure with a snort. “Wyatt hasn’t called me once in two months.”

Theo tenses at that. “Is that what you want? For him to reach out?”

“No, no. I just meant, I don’t think a reunion between us is even remotely possible.”

“Vacation hookups with exes happen all the time,” he says.

“Teddy—”

“I’m serious, Maggie. Just be careful.”