Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,53

laughed at the barrage of questions. “You guys. Stop. Remember, we don’t like him. He was demeaning to me and still kind of is.”

Both of them fell back, pouting like I’d taken their favorite toy.

“You could always have hate sex. So hot. Trust me. I’ve fucked a lot of people I hate.”

“Stop,” Nova exclaimed, covering her ears.

“Oh, Naughty Nova went back into hiding,” Raelynn joked. “But seriously, have you hit that again?”

“No. And I don’t want to.”

“Okay…” Nova said mockingly.

“I don’t.”

Raelynn shrugged. “Fine then. If you’re not sleeping with him, you won’t mind if I do.”

“No,” I almost shouted.

Her smirk let me know I’d been had, but I refused to let her think it was anything beyond following rules.

“It’s in our contract that we aren’t going to be with other people.”

“Contract? Oooo, like Fifty Shades of Grey?” Nova asked with too much excitement.

“No. It’s more like a prenup.”

“Well, I suggest you take full advantage of your five years and hop on that every chance you get.”

I opened my mouth to deny I wanted to, but it didn’t come out. Maybe I could live in denial by myself, but I’d never been very good at lying to my friends.

“Let’s eat before Raelynn eats you, Nova,” I said, avoiding commenting.

“Hey, maybe Nico can come back and eat Vera.” Rae waggled her brows, and we all laughed.

Thankfully, she was too focused on the food to see how much the thought of Nico kneeling at my feet affected me.

It didn’t matter, though.

All that mattered was getting out of marrying Camden, making it through five years, and not giving in to a man whore who acted like a prick.

Sometimes.

He acted like a prick sometimes.

More and more, he acted like my future husband, and it kind of scared the shit out of me.

What if I believed in those moments more than the dickish ones, and at the end of five years, wanted more?

Seventeen

Nico

The picture hadn’t done her justice.

She strolled in, the mid-day sun illuminating her in that white outfit. It was like a foreshadowing of what it would be like when she walked down the aisle, and a feeling like no other washed over me.

A mixture of warmth, electricity, and a shudder of desire worked its way down my spine, pulling my skin too tight.

She looked like the perfect bride-to-be, flanked by her two friends. She clutched her small bag, looking around, appearing both shy and excited all at once, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was an act or if maybe part of her was at least a little excited to celebrate becoming my wife.

Another wave of emotion moved through me, more intense and harder than the last, bringing a wave of questions after it. My skin grew even tighter, and I struggled to mentally shake myself back to reality.

I had a goal, and she was a means to an end. It didn’t matter if she was excited. It didn’t matter if she liked the idea or not. She served a purpose.

Despite my best efforts to push off anything but indifference at her presence, I stood a little taller. My basic caveman instincts roared, making me want to beat my chest, throw her over my shoulder and claim her as mine when she shifted her head too quickly, making the sparkling diamonds against her dainty ear sway.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Seeing the jewelry I picked out for her filled me with pride. Even more so when she brushed stray strands of hair back from her cheek, and my ring shone brightly.

She was mine.

Her father approached, and she stiffened. He nodded to her friends, and with a hand to her elbow, pulled Vera off to the side.

It was time to claim my fiancée.

The conversation appeared calm and pleasant between father and daughter, but as I got closer, I saw the clenched jaw and tight hold he had on her arm.

“Hear me out, Verana. I talked with Camden, and he was extraordinarily remorseful of the way he acted. He had a stressful week and took it out on you. We all did, and it wasn’t fair.”

My blood ran cold at his cajoling tone. Did she hear how fake it was? Did she believe him? What if she did? I wanted to close the gap between us, stop anymore lies spewing from Lorenzo, but my feet held me glued to the spot, wondering how Vera would react.

“Fair doesn’t begin to cover it,” she said.

“I know, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I looked into the