Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
“Let’s get out from under this vent before we go blue,” Dad says with a chuckle.
I take small steps to the other side of the foyer, heels clicking against the marble floor. The dress is so tight I can barely breathe.
Dad matches my small steps like he’s wiping away my jitters just by walking.
Mom comes in wearing a pale-blue dress. She’s stunning, but I wonder why her face looks like that.
“Don’t freak out,” she says with a forced smile. “But the groom and his boys aren’t here quite yet, and it’s almost time to start. Maybe you should call Jay?”
My stomach sinks and my mind goes off like a rabbit being chased by all the things that could go wrong.
Jay’s a big drinker when he parties. His whole band is.
I hope to God they didn’t smash it too hard and drive last night. I hope he’s okay.
I know—I want to believe—he wouldn’t miss the big day for the world.
I pick up my phone to call like Mom suggested, and there it is.
The text from hell.
I’m sorry, Dakota. I have to follow my heart. Music is my life and my truest love. I can’t be tied down with a wife. I’m real sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, but it’s better like this. It’s better than if we’d gone through with it and I figured it out too late.
I blink in disbelief.
But the hot tears rolling down my cheeks don’t lie.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom asks.
I hand her my phone before it falls out of my hand.
“I—I need to go home.” The words barely come out in a hoarse whisper. I look at Dad. “My car isn’t here.”
“I’ll walk you to the old Ford. It’s yours for the day. Take it wherever you want. Your mom and I will handle everything.”
He’s fawning all over me with easy words, the kindest he can muster, but it’s a day late and ten dollars short.
My stomach shifts from tremors to violent lurching.
I barely disappear behind the truck so I don’t have an audience before I squeeze my eyes shut and heave.
When my stomach empties out, I remind myself to take a few deep breaths so I don’t choke.
I’m light-headed and probably not the safest driver. Fortunately, it’s a small town on a bland day with virtually no traffic.
I get to our not honeymoon suite and slam the door so I can be alone.
The room is paid for in full. Someone might as well use it, I guess, even if it’s turned into a fancy-looking torture chamber.
I can’t figure out how to get out of the wedding dress by myself, so I—the bride who arrived alone and sick, that has to be rare in this town of ever afters—go to the front desk and ask to borrow scissors.
Back in my room, I cut through the silk and satin like they’re prison ties.
I free myself from this damn dress and leave the tattered scraps on the floor.
I’ll pick them up tomorrow, or else I’ll just leave a really big tip for the cleaners.
Tonight, I live in the hotel bathrobe, collapsing into frantic red dreams.
Dark-grey fog swirls, blowing the wedding away.
I sit on my bed alone, scrolling through my Facebooger feed. A North Dakota wind whips through the fields and howls through narrow alleys, barraging the hotel like my own fist of a heart.
A mutual friend tagged Jay in a post.
A grungy little man who still laughs like he’s fifteen and beats the drums, always out of sync except for the rare days when he’s sober enough to find rhythm. He congratulates my heartless ex on having the courage to “do the hard thing, but dude, the RIGHT thing. For you and Sam.”
Sam?
Aaand that’s how I find out Jay has been shacking up with his curvy vocalist since our last winter trip to California. It should’ve been a huge red flag that he wanted to spend so much time with 'the crew' while he left me exploring Redding alone.
But that grey fog in my head turns literal, swirling through my room.
Everything goes black and bursts into color.
Oh, God. Am I hallucinating from the shock of this day?
Not quite.
I’m on my knees, straddling a warm-blooded Adonis with thighs like carved granite. His mouth moves from mine as he leans over. His grip urges me up, makes me stand, and then his rough lips find the pale pink of my nipple.
He tastes too good as he pulls a fluffy white blanket around me while I’m lost in his kiss.
My legs tighten around him. I gasp.
He moves his head back so I can get a good look at his face, his honey-dark eyes shimmering in the light.
I recognize that face. It’s not one I’m supposed to like, much less—
His lips are on mine again, demolishing my thoughts.
His tongue owns my mouth, moving wordlessly and whispering with movement.