Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“Absolutely.” As the word leaves my lips, a horrifying realization crashes into me. Maddy. Her recent admission into UCLA. No, no, no. Henn wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have. And yet, I’m almost positive he did.
No. My heart doesn’t want to believe it, even as my gut screams at me that Henn did, in fact, go behind my back and do the exact thing I’d asked him not to do. Henn hacked a major university in Washington to help his best friend’s brother find true love, after all, so what would stop him from hacking into a major university in California to help his girlfriend’s sister make her dreams come true? I’d made it clear Maddy getting into UCLA would make my own move to LA a no-brainer, didn’t I? So, Henn had every incentive to help Maddy in order to help himself. Motherfucker.
I thank Sarah for the chat and mumble something about needing to find Henn. Obviously, I’ll hear him out. Try not to jump to conclusions. I could be wrong. But what are the odds of that, when it seems like every time I turn around, there’s another hack performed by my boyfriend that our friend group knows about, which Henn hasn’t bothered to tell me about himself? Why is he so secretive with me? Is it because he knows if he tells me one thing, that’ll be the thread that unravels the UCLA sweater?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee onstage says into a microphone. “Can we get all the single ladies to the dance floor? It’s time for the bouquet toss!”
I look toward the dance floor and discover Kat beckoning enthusiastically to me, with Henn standing next to her, his face awash in excited anticipation. Fuck. They’ve arranged for me to catch the fucking bouquet again, haven’t they? The same way they did at Jonas and Sarah’s wedding.
Panic floods me. I can’t do this right now. I have way too many questions for Henn. Too many doubts about him and his basic honesty. His character. Do I even know the man I’ve fallen head over heels in love with?
When the emcee repeats his refrain, Kat beckons to me again, so I shake my head at her, letting her know I’m not coming. From Kat, my gaze shifts to Henn, who’s saying something to Josh. Fuck. I can’t walk over there like nothing is wrong. In fact, I can’t stay here another minute, or I’m going to make a scene. Biting back tears, I turn on my heel, hike up my long bridesmaid dress so I don’t trip over its hem, and sprint out the nearest exit.
38
HENN
Where the heck is Hannah going . . . and now of all times? She can’t leave. She’s got to come over here and catch the bouquet, so I can lead her outside and show her our cuddling stars, and then get down on my knee and give her the ring that’s been burning a hole in my pocket all day and ask her to become my fiancée.
“Hannah!” I shout. But it’s too noisy in the crowded reception tent and Hannah’s too far away to hear me above the happy chaos. Does Hannah need to grab something from our room, and she’s cluelessly chosen this most inopportune time to do it?
I take off running at top speed toward the exit where Hannah disappeared, and when I get outside into the balmy Hawaiian night, it’s just in time to see Hannah turning a corner and disappearing again. Is she feeling sick? Did she get her period unexpectedly, and now she’s sprinting to change into some clean panties in our bungalow? That last idea seems legit. Honestly, I can’t fathom any other reason Hannah would take off so suddenly, right after the announcement of the bouquet toss, without saying a word to me.
“Hannah!” I yell. I pick up my pace and round the corner and yell her name again. And this time, thank God, she stops and turns around about thirty yards away from me on a hibiscus-lined path.
“Are you okay?” I walk toward her, my heart stampeding. As I get closer, tears on her cheeks glint in the moonlight. “Oh my god. What happened?” When I reach her, I open my arms, figuring whatever’s happened, she could probably use a hug. But to my surprise, she doesn’t fall into my arms. In fact, she takes a full step backward.
I drop my arms, as my stomach comes alive with knives and knots.
“I have a question,” she says coolly. “And I want you to answer with complete honesty.”
Uh oh. “I’ll certainly try.”
“See, that’s not a normal response, Henn. Most people would simply say okay.”
My stomach feels like it’s physically somersaulting. She knows full well there are things I can’t talk about. But I don’t think it would help my cause to remind her about that now. I ask, “What’s the question?”