Bia ignored the jibe. “You still have feelings for him.”
“I do not,” Josie said. But she knew that it came out a little too prim to sound convincing.
“Just be careful, OK?”
Josie sighed. “Bia, I’m always careful.” But there was a little part of her that thought that, if that were true, she would have been able to enter into a fling with Max the way Bia had gone about it with Stuart.
Bia managed to distract her for most of the dinner, so that she barely paid attention to what Max was doing. The mead was slightly stronger than she’d planned for, so her head started swirling pleasantly before she realized it, and she felt her voice getting louder, gesturing more emphatically when she and Bia discussed Big Ideas. As such, Josie was a little shocked when Laura and John started making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone.
Josie and Bia stood as they approached their section of the table. There were tears in Laura’s eyes as she hugged them both. “Don’t ask me why,” she said. “I’m just all emotional this weekend.” Because John was giving her a look, Laura prodded him in the ribs. “It’s normal, you jerk,” she said with affection.
Max and Erin were part of the little cluster that had come up round the other side of the table to say goodbye, and John turned to hug Erin, who gave him a friendly pat as they drew away. “I can’t believe you’re a proper grown-up now,” she said with a sigh.
John snorted. “You’ll get there soon, I’ve no doubt.” Josie tried very hard not to look at Max. Would it be on the cards, she wondered? Would Max and Erin end up getting married, Josie no more than a story in Max’s past? She pressed her lips together. Let it go, Josie.
The entire dinner party followed Laura and John outside to wave them off, but because they were walking to the Boathouse first to get their luggage, and because Laura wasn’t wearing a wedding dress, it was rather less dramatic than the send-offs you saw in those romantic films.
“Thank God,” Bia said, as they gave a last wave. “I’ve been needing a wee for about ten minutes.” She dashed off, and Josie headed back into the chamber. She paused just inside the entryway. Max was sitting there, the candlelight bouncing in his hair. Erin was distracted, chatting away to someone on her other side, and Max looked up and caught her eye. And smiled at her in a way that should be reserved for his damn girlfriend.
Maybe it was the mead, maybe it was something Bia had said, or maybe it was the whole bloody weekend, the way he’d been acting like they had some kind of connection, that they were something to each other, but in that moment, she decided that she’d had enough. She turned on her heel and stormed away, practically barging into someone coming in the other direction. Screw him, she thought. Screw all the damn happy couples here.
She was out in the grounds when she heard him calling her name behind her. “Josie?” She ignored him and marched on, the wind whipping past her face. “Josie!”
She spun to him, glaring. “What?” she spat out.
He jerked to a stop, frowned, then started walking slowly toward her, as if she were some kind of animal in need of taming. “What’s wrong?” he asked slowly. For a moment she just glowered at him. Clearly, he was under the impression that all of this was fine, that they were fine, that it was bloody fine to give her all these looks and take her hand when his girlfriend wasn’t looking, because a countryside jaunt and a meeting with a famous photographer made everything just dandy.
She shook her head. “What are you doing, Max?”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you doing?” she repeated. “Why are you trying to worm your way back into my life?” She pulled a hand through her hair, felt the wind tug at it when she let go. There were no stars tonight, the night sky clouded above them. “Or are you? Is that what you’re trying to do—do you want to be friends? Is that what all of this is about?”
“No, I—”
“Then what!” Her voice erupted across the castle grounds. “You bloody show up here out of nowhere, at my friend’s wedding, where you have no right to be—”
“Hey, that’s a bit harsh,” he said, still in that same careful tone of voice. “I was invited, it’s not like I did it deliberately to piss you off.” She shot him a glare, and his face tightened. “This isn’t ideal for me either, Josie, it’s—”
“Oh yes,” Josie said, letting out a scathing laugh. “I’m sure it’s so hard being here with your gorgeous, intelligent girlfriend—whom I like, by the way.”