Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Insensitive?
“All I do is carry on about myself. This wedding has taken over my thoughts and most of my free time. All of my girlfriends have equally big things happening that are overshadowed by my making everything… well, about me.”
“There’s a lot happening in that statement. Where is this coming from?”
“Rowan recently went through a break-up. He is a massive prick, but it still must be a big change for her. Shayla is adjusting to living back in the States, which hasn’t been easy. Ginger is under the pressure of graduating. And you, well, you’re hurting. In my current living situation, I can’t exactly set up our normal margarita night sleepover.”
Her guilt stings. She doesn’t deserve to feel this way.
“Harley, we’re all big girls. We can handle the pressures of life. This is an important time, and I can absolutely say you’re wrong here. None of us begrudge your happiness. You and Ace waited long enough. Getting married is a celebration for us all.”
“But you’re hurting,” she points out. “Major is a moron.”
“My pride is wounded. I am interested in a guy who isn’t into me. He thinks I’m pretty, but the Julianna Keller complete package isn’t his gig. I get that.”
“He was burned badly.” She gasps after blurting it out.
“Harley, you promised not to get involved. I’m not ‘that friend’.”
“I didn’t, well, not really. But I had to know. It was driving me insane that Major’s so hot and cold. The way he looks at you screams possessive.”
I choke out a loud laugh, not at all filled with amusement. “I wore fuck me shoes, and he said I should walk the strip. Not exactly words of possession.”
“You know that was tongue in cheek. He screwed up his words. He meant a catwalk.”
She mentioned this yesterday while filling me in on what I missed at Tom’s Thursday night. “Let it go. We’ll be good. I’m not hurting. Well, except the fact that I’m a shitty friend for making you think we can’t celebrate all the wonderful things happening with you.”
“Achilles said the way he was screwed over made him like he is with women.” She bypasses my attempt to turn the conversation back to her.
My chest aches, hearing this and knowing the man Major is. Whatever happened would have to be a form of betrayal for him to hold a grudge. “This sounds like a story he should share when he wants.”
“Yeah, that’s what Achilles said. I don’t know what happened.”
“Let’s leave it that way.”
“Okay. We’re still on for this afternoon, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Love you, Jewls.”
“You too, babe. Go sweat your ass off.” She and Ginger attend hot yoga and Pilates on Saturday mornings. I tried and knew immediately it’s not my thing.
We hang up and I start a group text, informing the other girls of my idea for the afternoon.
Change of plans. Everyone meet at my place. I’ll arrange transportation to Clyde’s. Clear your evenings because we’re celebrating our girl in style.
Harley’s wedding party is small, consisting of her cousin Shayla, our friend Ginger, and me. Rowan is another of our group. Although she’s technically not in the wedding, she’s probably the most important—outside of the bride. Rowan co-owns an upscale salon in an elite area of Nashville. She’s our beauty expert and is in charge of all hair and makeup for the weekend.
The replies come back fast and furious.
Shayla— Hell yeah. I’m crashing with you.
Rowan—Count me in
Ginger—I really shouldn’t…
This is what Harley means by her struggles. The woman has been stressing over her tests for weeks.
There isn’t a chance for me to respond before Rowan handles her.
Rowan— Ging, girl, you go this. Take a night off and enjoy. I promise to quiz you tomorrow.
The bubbles of her reply flutter on the screen, and it’s obvious she’s thinking hard.
Ginger—Fuck it. If I don’t know the information by now, it’s not happening tonight. I’m in.
That’s my girl. I smile proudly. The woman is in line to take Harley’s old job as soon as she graduates. Technically, the stress of a professional position isn’t what’s driving her. It’s her perfectionist personality.
Shayla— Who’s telling the Neanderthal?
Me—I’ll handle Ace.
I shoot off another text to Ember, Harley’s dress designer and manager at her family’s formalwear store.
She instantly replies with her approval and a celebration emoji.
Ace will be his normal grumpy, broody self, but he’ll be on board. Especially if he knows his night will end with a happy and champagne-filled Harley.
3
Major
“Want to sweeten the pot?” Talon takes a swig of his beer, wiggling his eyebrows.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Winner gets the take and Ace’s room.”
My eyes swing between the stack of bills on the table and the cards in my hand, pretending to consider his offer.
“Damn,” Ford hisses, pulling out a twenty off the stack and slapping it into Ace’s open palm.