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my lip I curse my never ceasing desire to impress him. I’m not that that awkward little girl anymore who hung on his every word hoping for some sign of approval.
    Heath moves closer to me and I jump when his hand touches my waist. In my Jake fog, I had forgotten he was here.
    “Want me to grab you a beer, Kace?” He asks, thankfully not seeming to notice my nervousness.
    “Oh, I can grab my own. You don’t have to get it for me.”
    He leans down to press his lips to my cheek. “I don’t mind.”
    Turning my head toward the kitchen I freeze when I see Jake there, watching us. In his hand is one of my IPAs. Holding my gaze, he lifts his bottle and takes a drink.
    He saw Heath kiss my cheek. God, why does it feel like I’ve cheated on him?
    “One of the coffee ones would be great. Thanks,” I murmur.
    Heath moves away from me. On his way past Jake, he pauses to see which beer he chose. Jake lifts it for his inspection but continues to watch me. And then Heath is gone and I’m alone in my living room with Jake Whitmore.
    For a small room, I’m not sure there could be more distance between our bodies than there is right now. The silence only seems to increase it. There are different types of silence. This one is unsure knowing its existence is threatened. This silence knows we both want to say something and it waits to see who will break it first.
    In the battle between us, the silence wins.
    “Which office are you at tomorrow?” He asks, walking right past Jake to bring me my beer.
    It still has the cap on.
    Heath drinks beers with twist off caps. Even if mine was, I’m slightly bothered that he didn’t remove it for me.
    Resigning myself to having to go pop my own cap, I reply, “I’m in Las Basida tomorrow.”
    Before I can take one step toward the kitchen, Jake is in front of me reaching for my hand.
    His hold is firm. My hand may melt away from the shock of cold on my palm from my beer and the molten heat seeping from his skin onto the back of my hand.
    My eyes widen and I gape up at him. He sets his bottle on the coffee table and he pops the cap off my beer.
    With. His. Hand.
    Holy crap.
    He lets me go and steps away from me, taking the cap with him.
    “But, this beer doesn’t have twist off caps,” I dumbly argue.
    He smirks.
    “Is your hand okay?” I take a step toward him.
    “It’s good,” he replies, slipping it into his pocket.
    I take another step toward him. “Let me see.”
    “Kace, he said it was fine.”
    Abruptly, I turn and quickly sit in the armchair. Jake returns to his spot on the couch while Heath moves to sit at the other end of it, both of them facing me.
    I’m alone, in my apartment with two insanely gorgeous men. Right now, there are probably a million women dreaming about being in this position.
    Their dream is my nightmare.
    “Have you two set a date?”
    Heath answers, “We’re aiming for next month. Will you still be in town?”
    Jake doesn’t answer his question. “That soon?”
    Then he shakes his head and answers his own question, “Your mom.”
    “If you’re still around, will you be my best man?”
    Heath did not just ask him that in front of me! How would that look? What would people think?
    “I’m sorry man. I think I’ll be back on the rig.”
    Heath sighs. “I figured. If you aren’t, it’s you I want standing next to me.”
    Jake leans forward, his elbows on his knees and looks over at him. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    Heath grins while another piece of my heart breaks away and falls to the floor. If the man I’ve loved for almost forever is there, what will I do?
    How will I be able to walk down the aisle and not stare at him?
    “It’s going to be a very small wedding,” I blurt.
    “Too small for me?” He asks, and Heath laughs, “Of course not. You’re practically family.”
    Jake looks at me, waiting for me to say something. Damn coward that I am, I look away and drink my beer.
    They talk while I quietly freak the hell out. I hear