Kristen wasn’t shy or conservative. That much I’d seen over the last few weeks. She probably didn’t even think twice about any of this. But I practically panted. I was getting a hard-on just standing there. I hoped she didn’t look down.
She turned. “Okay, I got an Uber. He’ll be here in five minutes.” She looked up at me full-on for the first time since I’d come into the room. “You look nice.”
I stared at her. “Thanks. You too.”
My heart pounded so hard I thought she might be able to see it through my shirt. The tips of my fingers buzzed with the memory of touching her skin.
Stuntman Mike strutted over to me and plopped at my feet. I reached down and scooped him up, happy to have something to distract me. “Hey, little guy.”
Kristen beamed, dazzling bright-red lips over perfect, straight teeth. “God, he really likes you. I just can’t get over it.”
“Yeah, we hung out all day today.” I kissed the top of his head. I liked him, but this was for her. I loved the way her eyes always sparkled when I was affectionate with her dog. I pressed him to my cheek, and she melted.
She sighed. “He doesn’t like anyone. He hates Tyler.”
Yeah. I get that. Because I’m starting to hate Tyler a little myself.
TWELVE
Kristen
The party was at Luigi’s, under the stars. We had the entire outdoor patio of Sloan and Brandon’s favorite Italian restaurant for our night of activities. First we’d do dinner followed by a few hours of stuffing wedding invites into envelopes and putting together the favors—a hundred and fifty small jasmine-scented votive candles. Each one needed a label, a box, tissue paper, a hangtag, and a ribbon.
The caprese salad, chicken marsala, and penne pasta were served buffet style beneath a white lattice dripping with grapevines and fairy lights. Frank Sinatra crooned over the speakers.
The whole thing was so Sloan. She was doing her Pinterest obsession proud.
We were all seated at a long wooden farm table with fresh flowers and flickering votive candles every few feet. Sloan and Brandon’s mom and his sister, Claudia, took the end of the table. Sloan’s cousin Hannah got stuck next to Shawn, where he’d probably hit on her the whole night. Josh sat by Brandon, and I ended up next to Sloan, across from the two of them.
It was a perfect March night. The air was fragrant and warm.
And the spot on my neck where Josh’s fingers touched me—that was still warm too.
God, he looked incredible tonight. It took everything in me not to stare at him. The second I saw him, I think an entire ovary detached and floated down into my useless uterus to wait.
I was done lying to myself. Over the last week I’d come to terms with the fact that I was more attracted to Josh than I was to Tyler. By a landslide. By a tsunami. And that was saying a lot because Tyler and I didn’t exactly lack chemistry.
And it wasn’t just Josh’s body. It was him. There wasn’t anything about him I didn’t like. I wished there were.
He was easygoing and funny. My moods didn’t scare him. He just kind of shrugged them off. He was down for anything. We hated all the same stuff—artsy indie movies with endings that didn’t have any closure, pineapple on pizza, daylight savings time. Sometimes he said something right as I was going to say it, like our brains worked on the same wavelength.
Every day I searched for some fatal flaw so I could stop having these feelings. Sometimes I purposely grilled him on things, just to see if his answers would irritate me.
It never worked.
I felt good today. I wasn’t cramping or bleeding for once. My nineteen-day period was finally gone, and I’d spent the afternoon getting waxed and polished at the salon. I did it because I knew I was going to this thing with Josh tonight. I was supposed to be dressed up, and for once looking half-decent wouldn’t betray my feelings for him. I wanted him to think I was beautiful, just one time.
Even if I was just teasing him, just to see if I could.
Josh and Brandon were deep in conversation across the table, going on about duck hunting, and Sloan leaned in and whispered over her tiramisu. “Josh has been looking at you all night.”
I picked up my sangria and took a sip. As if he intended to prove her claims, Josh glanced at me and