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sudden vision
of being the only member of the wedding party standing in
shirtsleeves, like an idiot. Not exactly how he wanted to look as a
groomsman, especially since he’d be walking Kerry down the
aisle.
    He’d practically begged Liam to make
sure he got Kerry instead of some cousin of Alicia’s from DC, who
was also a bridesmaid.
    “What are our options?” Liam asked.
“He needs a jacket for Saturday.”
    “I’ll place an order for the correct
size right now. I’ll have it express shipped and it should be here
within three days.”
    “Great.” Liam seemed
satisfied.
    Grey had to admit, he’d never been so
relieved about any clothing-related news. After yesterday and the
way Kerry had shot him down at the beach, the last thing he needed
was to look like a chimp stuffed into a tuxedo when it came time
for their moment of wedding aisle glory.
    Right now, the prospect of being
paired with her during the wedding ceremony was all he
had.
     
    * * * * *
     
    “Spot me,” Grey said, lying down on
the bench in his garage as a bead of sweat dripped from the tip of
his nose. Having a garage gym was great, except for one thing:
there was no air conditioning.
    He seriously needed to invest in a
window unit or something.
    “Can’t,” Liam said, reaching for a
towel and wiping his face with it, “it’s about time for Alicia to
get off work. Promised her I’d be home – Monday night is our pizza
and movie night.”
    “You’re abandoning me in my time of
need for pizza?”
    Liam shrugged. “Wedding’s this
weekend. Not gonna break a promise now. Besides, I love
pizza.”
    “All right, Henry – you spot me
then.”
    “Sasha gets off early tonight. We’re
going on a date.” He stared out the window like he wished he was
already gone.
    “What the hell – you’re both ditching
me? What about my bench press?”
    Neither of them had said anything
about their evening plans. If they had, Grey would’ve pushed for
them to leave Wilmington earlier instead of grabbing lunch after
trying on their tuxes. Now he had no one to help him with chest
day.
    And he wasn’t about to bench press
without a spotter – although he sometimes suspected he might die
alone, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be because he’d dropped 280
pounds of iron on himself.
    “Sorry, man.” Liam threw his towel
over his shoulder. “I’ll come over and spot you next time we have a
day off.”
    “Bullshit – you’ll be on your
honeymoon.”
    “Later then.”
    Grey tried not to be too pissed when
Liam and Henry left him. Instead, he set up his bench at an incline
to prepare for an inverted bench press and then went to set his
adjustable free weights on their highest setting. Not heavy enough,
but he wasn’t going to go inside and sit on his ass in front of the
TV.
    “Come on. Piece of shit.” He rocked
the adjustable weight in its frame, pulling on the red plastic tab
that controlled how much weight it’d bring with it when he picked
it up. It got stuck all the time. Sometimes he wasted five or ten
minutes getting it into the right position.
    The entire weight stand rocked as he
struggled with it, and just when he was about to let a string of
obscenities fly, the tab snapped off right in his hand, then went
skittering across the concrete.
    The little piece of plastic stopped
directly beneath his weight bench, like it was mocking
him.
    “Damn it!” He barely resisted the urge
to kick the weight stand, which probably would’ve broken his
toes.
    The weights had been expensive. And
now he had no way to do chest day.
    He grabbed a clean towel, scrubbed his
face like his life depended on it and let a few more obscenities
fly. He was in the middle of cursing every single factory line
worker who’d ever touched the weights when his phone went
off.
    If it was Liam or Henry, they could
kiss his ass.
    But it wasn’t. It was
Kerry.
    He dropped the towel and turned his
back on the traitorous little bit of plastic lurking beneath his
weight