Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“We don’t have one, but I guess we’ll figure it out as we go along.”
It occurred to me that was true not just for tonight, but for every minute of the year ahead.
8
Embry
It had been a mistake to go for sweet and pretty when I planned the wedding ceremony. The whole thing felt too real. Maybe I wouldn’t have had that problem if we’d been dressed as pirates or gotten married by an Elvis impersonator. But it turned out those themed wedding venues cost a lot more than I’d expected, so I went for the free option instead of spending more of Bryson’s money.
Our kiss made everything even more confusing. I’d kissed plenty of men, usually during random hookups, and felt absolutely nothing. But when Bryson and I kissed, it made my heart trip over itself.
It wasn’t okay to feel things for him, outside of caring about him as a friend. Yes, I’d felt a little spark of attraction early on, but that was something to ignore and deny. He was straight, and our relationship wasn’t real. Apparently I needed to keep reminding myself of that. This was complicated enough without reading too much into his kindness, or believing the lie we were going to try to tell his family.
My thoughts were scrambled after the wedding ceremony, the kiss, all of it. I wanted to bail out of the reception early, and fortunately, Bryson was all for it. It seemed like he’d even anticipated it, since he’d bought several extra-large pizzas for our hosts, and one much smaller pizza that was the perfect size to take with us when we fled.
On the way out, Vee texted me, asking: You alright, Em? I can come with you if you want some company. I sent a message in return, letting him know I was just tired and telling him he should stay and enjoy himself.
Bryson and I didn’t say much on the drive back to the Strip. I ate two slices of pizza because I was hungry, but he passed. When we reached the hotel, a parking attendant whisked the convertible away. I hung my huge tote bag on my shoulder—which held everything I’d needed to decorate the cake and get ready for the wedding ceremony—and brought the leftover pizza with me as we went upstairs.
At the door to his room, I handed him his jacket, which he’d been nice enough to give me for the drive. Then I asked, “What are you going to do tonight?”
“I’m pretty wiped out, so I’ll probably just go to bed.”
I didn’t point out that it was barely nine. Instead, I nodded and told him, “I’ll be up for a while, so text me if you need anything.”
I offered him the leftover pizza, and when he declined, I took it with me to my room and ate two more slices. Then I changed into pajamas, sat on one of the beds hugging my knees to my chest, and stared at the ring on my left hand for a while.
I hadn’t felt up for partying, but this was a pretty blah way to spend my wedding night.
Correction, my fake wedding night.
When my phone beeped a few minutes later, I was so excited that I knocked it off the nightstand and had to dive after it. The text was from Bryson, and it said: I want to make sure I reimburse everyone who spent money on the wedding ceremony today, so please let me know what I owe for the cake and decorating supplies, the champagne, the wedding officiant’s fee, cab fare, and anything I’m forgetting.
Vee had covered all those expenses, and I’d kept a running total to make sure he got reimbursed. I sent Bryson the amount, along with Vee’s Venmo information, and a minute later, he replied: Done. Thank you. Do you maybe want to come to my room and watch a movie or something? It turns out I’m way too wound up to sleep.
Yay! I replied: Be there in five minutes.
I jumped up and hurried to get ready. After I put on my fuzzy, pink bunny slippers, I ran into the bathroom and checked my reflection. The ride in the convertible hadn’t done my straightened hair any favors, so I tried to brush it. That made it look worse, so I found a stretchy headband in my toiletry case and put it on. After adding a little lip balm, I stepped back to see more of myself in the mirror.
My slightly oversized red flannel pajamas were printed with a repeating pattern of my dog’s head. They’d been a gift from my housemates on my last birthday, and I absolutely loved them. They weren’t the sexiest thing in the world, though.
Why was I even thinking about that?
I was going to my straight friend’s room to watch a movie, not to hook up. I really needed to get a grip.