You May Kiss the Bridesmaid - Camilla Isley Page 0,45

and pretending we’re a couple evaporate before my eyes once again.

Is it a wise plan? Pretending we’re together? Probably not. Do I care? Nu-uh.

And I hate that I have to lie to my sister, but I want one full day with Archie so much. Tomorrow is the day of the wedding, and there won’t be any sneaking off then. And tomorrow night will be our last together. I squash the panic rising in my chest at the mere thought.

Bottom line is, I need today. This entire week is about her; I deserve a day for myself.

“I told you, nothing in particular. I planned to go exploring a little.”

“Yeah, some me time you said, right?” She’s not buying it.

I’m trying to come up with a believable answer when I spot Archie’s boxer briefs peeking out from under the bed, one second before my sister’s laser-focused gaze clocks in on them.

“Are those man underpants?” Winter asks.

In a desperate move, I kick them further under the bed. “No,” I say, blushing head-to-toe.

“You have a man stashed up in here!” My sister smiles. “That’s why you didn’t come to the door. Why are you hiding him?”

“Please, no one else is here.”

Winter’s face turns suspicious. “No, seriously, where is he hiding?” Then her gaze narrows. “Who is he?”

“He doesn’t exist.”

“Really?” Winter crosses the space between us. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I looked”—with a theatrical gesture, she opens the closet door—“in here!”

Hanging from the rack, only my bridesmaid dress comes into view.

“See?” I say. “No one’s here.”

Winter still looks unconvinced, but I’m beginning to hope she’ll let it go, when the clear sound of a sneeze echoes from the bathroom.

With an ah-ha look, my sister marches into the en suite, and, after a few seconds’ pause, I hear the shower curtain being yanked open.

“You?” Winter gasps.

“Hi, Snowflake,” Archie’s husky voice replies. “If I said I was here only to take a shower ’cause mine is broken, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?”

“I can’t believe this!”

Winter marches out of the bathroom and Archie follows her, wearing only his jeans—commando style. He looks deliciously disheveled, like a half-unwrapped candy. And even after the night we’ve had, I only want for my sister to get out of the way so I can have my sugar fix.

But Winter doesn’t seem keen on going anywhere.

“How could you?” She points an accusing finger at him.

“Relax, Winter,” I say. “Nothing shady is going on. We’re two consenting adults who decided to have fun together while at a wedding. No need to go ballistic.”

The comment, even if technically accurate, sounds a little empty now. So much has changed from that first night when all I wanted to do was forget my name.

My sister turns on me, and I’m not sure if I’ve been quick enough to hide the uncertainty from my features, because she stares at me with her mouth gaping open, incredulous.

“Having fun—” she scoffs. “Of course.” Then she throws a look at Archie so seething it’d finish melting the Arctic. “Get dressed and come to my room,” she orders him. “We need to talk.”

“No, you don’t,” I say. “This is none of your business.”

The icecap-melting gaze pivots to me. “This is my wedding. Everything is my business.”

Then she turns on her heel and marches out, calling, “Archibald Hill, get your ass to my room, now!” Winter slams the door behind her.

Fifteen

Archie

Better dressed—the briefs were a bitch to retrieve from under the bed—but still unshowered, I knock on Winter and Logan’s door, ready to have my ass kicked.

When I get in, Logan throws me a “Seriously, man?” look, with a passive-aggressive postscript of, “If you had to screw the bride’s sister, couldn’t you at least not get caught the day before the wedding?”

So, my friend is up to speed on the situation.

On the other side of the room, Winter doesn’t spare me a second glance; she’s too busy pacing around.

When she stops and turns on me, her features contort in a gut-freezing expression of fury I pray never to witness on Summer’s face.

“Explain yourself,” Winter demands.

“You want me to give a speech about the birds and the bees or something?”

“Don’t you try to be a smartass about this. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Listen, you’re overreacting… Summer and I, we have an understanding.” I ignore the, “No, man, don’t even try to go down that road,” face Logan is making behind Winter’s back and keep going. “All the cards are on the table. We’re going to enjoy each other’s company while we’re