As it turns out, bridal showers are just as boring as they sound like they'd be.

It's already a negative that guests are expected to dress formal, which means I end up in a suit. Then there's the fact that the whole thing is more a feminine gathering, which is only proven when I enter the café Mia and Thorne rented to find the place decorated all frilly, pink and white everything littering the place. On top of all this, kids are running around everywhere and the event is supposed to be family-friendly, which means I'll be frowned upon for being so bored I end up wasted.

Add to this having to be forced to see the ex-girlfiend I'm still hopelessly in love with on the arm of another guy, which makes for an overall pretty shitty experience.

I spot Blake the moment she walks in, and—for the first time ever—I consider her presence to be more of a curse than a blessing. This is because she's not alone, walking through the door with her arm draped through Dylan's.

She looks as beautiful as ever, despite everything. She looks stunning the white dress she wears. Her warm brown eyes stand out, the makeup she wears making the intricate details of her face all the more prominent. Yet it's her radiant smile that I find my gaze glued to, realizing with a devastating start that she's giving that smile of hers to another man.

I can hardly stand the sight of Blake laughing at something Dylan has said to her, watching him whisper in her ear. The smile he gives her indicates that they're speaking entirely of private matters, and Blake's cheeks flush with life as she returns the gesture with no hesitation whatsoever.

The scene is so painful to watch, I end up grabbing a glass of chardonnay from the pink satin clothed table in front of me, downing a large sip. Technically, I'm breaking my vow of sobriety, but in the moment I don't care. At least the bitter taste will take my edge off.

"Don't let it get to you, man."

I turn to find Thorne standing behind me, wearing an expression of understanding. His gaze flickers to where Blake and Dylan stand a few feet away from the doorframe.

"It's harder than it looks," I bite back with a bitter laugh. My gaze returns to Blake, which is all too painful. I suddenly seem interested in inflicting self-harm. Who am I kidding? I've always been entirely too good at hurting myself.

"I know it is," Thorne sympathizes. "Just try not to let it get to you, okay? If not for you, then think about how it will effect her. You don't want to ruin any change you might have with Blake in the future, do you?"

Thorne shoots me a pointed glance. I sigh as I set the glass of chardonnay back down, knowing he's right. I've always had a problem when it comes to drinking whilst upset, and I think both of us know where adding alcohol into the mix of this could end for me. More than likely, I'd cause a scene, and the last thing I want to do is lose Blake again.

I think back to all of the things she admitted to remembering about me a few days ago when I replaced her flat tires, recalling all of the good times we had and the memories we made. Staring down at the glass of chardonnay, I realize that potentially ruining that all over again isn't worth it.

"You're right," I tell Thorne. Narrowing my eyes at him, I ask, "What are you even doing over here? Don't you have a fiancée you're supposed to be fraternizing with?"

"I'm actually hiding from her," Thorne admits. His eyes skirt around the room like he's trying to locate Mia just to make sure he's far enough away from her presence. "I don't think I can take talking to another one of her relatives and pretending to be ecstatic over another toaster as a wedding gift." Thorne takes a large gulp of chardonnay from the glass in his hand, shaking his head. "Who the hell needs five toasters, anyway? I mean, you'd think these people would give us something useful. Like cash, or something. But no. Apparently it's a thing to give toasters to engaged couples in Mia's family."

By the way Thorne rambles about things that make entirely no sense, it's no hard to tell he's had one too many glasses of chardonnay.

Thorne finishes his current glass, gazing down at the empty cup with a frown. "I'm gonna go find out where they're keeping the bottles of this shit," Thorne tells me. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

Thorne disappears just as Mia starts to ask some of the guests if they've seen him around anywhere.

With nothing to occupy me, I find my thoughts returning to Blake. My gaze settles on her once again, standing next to Dylan as she indulges in conversation with another guest.

I don't even think as my feet lead me in her direction. It's as if my body is moving opposite of my brain, caught somewhere between knowing that approaching her is a bad idea yet wanting to do it anyway. I don't stop until I'm standing within the circle of Blake's conversation, and it's only once I'm close to her that I realize I've made a mistake.

Yet it's too late to back out now, as the woman Blake had previously been speaking to politely excuses herself, leaving me alone with Blake and Dylan.

Blake glances over at me, expression caged. Her gaze quickly flickers over to the boy she came with, eyes dancing back to me within the second.

I realize I have yet to speak. Clearing my throat and forcing a smile, I say, "It's nice to see you again, Blake."

"Hi, Noah," Blake replies with a tight smile. "You remember Dylan, right?"

"Of course," I say too calmly, eyes turning to the guy on Blake's arm. "Though, I don't think we've ever been formally introduced. I'm Noah Reed." I extend a hand to Dylan, wondering if he can sense the hatred I feel toward him.

Dylan shakes my hand, and I not-so-subtly squeeze his a little too roughly.

Pulling his hand back to his side and wincing slightly, Dylan casually says, "It's nice to meet you, Noah." His gaze dances from me to Blake as he asks, "So . . . how do you two know each other?"

"We used to date, actually," I respond before Blake has a chance, eyes firmly planted on hers as I speak. "Back when we were in high school. Right, Blake?"

Blake grits her teeth as she forces a smile in my direction, her withering gaze giving away the fact that she is clearly not pleased with what I've just said. "Noah and I dated a long time ago," she clarifies to Dylan, eyes cold on mine as she adds, "Until he decided to skip town and leave me behind, that is."

"Like you said, sweetheart," I say in return, "that was a long time ago."

Glaring at me, Blake snaps, "Not long enough. Can I help you with something, Noah?"

I shake my head, taking notice of her bitterness. Walking over here was a mistake, after all. However, the small amount of alcohol I'd consumed bubbles in my veins and seems to think that any time I can get within close proximity to Blake is worth it, and I suppose that's why I find myself lingering.

"Just wanted to say hi," I assure Blake, "and introduce myself to Dylan here. It was nice to meet you."

"Uh . . . you too," Dylan mutters in response, sounding unsure of his statement. It's clear that my presence has rattled him just as much as it has Blake, and I'm not sure why this realization has me smirking in satisfaction.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it, then," I retort. I nod at Blake once more as I say, "Nice seeing you."

I don't wait for a response before walking off, wanting to leave while I have the last word. I wind up back where I'd been moments earlier: alone in the back, forced to watch as Blake and Dylan converse in the privacy of the corner of the room, smiling flirtatiously at each other as they speak in hushed tones.

As Dylan leans toward Blake and his lips capture hers in a tender kiss, I realize that my no alcohol rule is utterly stupid. I reach for a nearby glass of chardonnay and down the contents in seconds.

Unfortunately, I know even the strongest of alcohols can't take away the sting I'm feeling within.

____

a/n: i am tired