Nope, she wasn't bitter. Or, at least, she was trying very hard not to be. Bonnie was truly happy for the couple and was genuinely excited to be Cassie's maid of honor. It's just when Cassie asked Bonnie her opinion on invitations or dresses or, well, anything wedding-related, Bonnie sometimes (okay, all the time) felt the sting of envy. They should be planning 'her' wedding. But it was hard to send out invitations when you didn't know when or where to invite the guests.
Gabe said he wanted to get school over with, to have this final piece of his academic life wrapped up before starting the next stage. Bonnie understood. Mostly. But she and Gabe had been together for so long, she wanted to get on with the next step of her life. What was the big deal if they started planning the wedding before or after he finished the last leg of what had felt like a marathon?
She'd been by Gabe's side every step of the way, and though Bonnie may not have been the one running the race, she'd sacrificed much to help her runner reach his goals. She'd waited this long, she could wait a little longer. It was almost May. By this time next month, Gabe would be finished with his final semester of grad school.
Soon, she'd be applauding, bursting with pride as Gabe walked down the aisle and accepted his degree. She couldn't wait to call him Dr. Gabriel Shaughnessy. Couldn't wait to write it on their wedding invitations and finally, 'finally', walk down the aisle herself and become Mrs. Dr. Gabriel Shaughnessy.
"Where's Gabe?" Cassie asked, breaking into Bonnie's thoughts.
"He had a meeting with his adviser."
"Another one?" Her best friend frowned, brown eyes shadowed with concern. "On a Friday night?"
"The dissertation presentation is coming up soon, and they're working out the final kinks." Bonnie shrugged. "His adviser often calls on evenings and weekends."
"What a wanker," Logan said. Cassie slapped him on the arm but didn't correct him.
Bonnie wasn't sure if Logan meant Gabe or his adviser. Either way, she rather agreed with the Scot. She took a swig of her cocktail. Her glass was almost empty again. The second one had gone down much smoother—and faster—than the first. Bonnie glanced toward the bar and considered seeing how a third would fare.
Following the line of her gaze, Logan flashed a grin. "Shall I fetch you a wee bevy to wash your cares away?"
"Sure. A Manhattan, please." She couldn't remember the last time she'd had three drinks in one night, but right now she didn't care.
"And for you, lass?" Logan turned to Cassie. "Dark and Stormy?"
"Perfect." Cassie went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, fingers tugging on a lock of red hair as she whispered, "You know how I love ginger."
The Scot lowered his eyes, now hooded with lust. "Aye, I do." He bent toward Cassie, tilting his face so her lips trailed across his cheek and met his mouth. Sexual tension radiated between the two of them.
Bonnie flushed, looking away from the happy couple. Jealousy clawed at her insides, and she fought against the green-eyed monster. Of course, Cassie and Logan's relationship seemed fresh and exciting . . . they'd only met last summer. But when's the last time Gabe looked at you like that? Or kissed you that way? With such raw hunger. Such need. Has he ever? Bonnie swallowed the last of her drink and cleared her throat. "On second thought, maybe I should call it a night."
"No! You can't leave yet." Cassie slipped out of Logan's embrace and grabbed Bonnie's arm. "There's something I want to talk to you about."
Bonnie suppressed a groan; she was not up for discussing her friend's wedding plans tonight. "Can it wait?"
"I guess, but you may not get another chance to meet her."
"The lady from Cambridge."