Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I can practically hear the whispers now…
Oh my God, is that Charlotte’s date?
Jesus Christ. Teddy must want to die.
Just shrivel up and die!
I bet he’s regretting inviting her to the wedding now.
Or at least giving her the option for a plus-one.
The vicious laughter at my ex’s expense will be sweet.
Vicious and cruel and sweet, but…
I smooth a hand down to rest on the soft satin vest, over Nix’s heart. Then, I lift my gaze and whisper, “What if we don’t go?”
The tailor clears his throat, clearly sensing some sort of shit is about to hit the fan. “I’ll be up front when you decide,” he says, backing away. “Please, take your time. There’s no rush.”
“Thank you,” Nix murmurs, but he barely glances the man’s way. He’s too busy frowning down at me, confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you want to go?” A hint of concern flickers in his expression. “Are you worried it will be too hard or something? That maybe the old feelings might—”
“God no,” I cut in with a rush of breath. “No. Not even a little bit. Ew.” I shake my head with a laugh as I stroke two fingers down the front of my throat. “That honestly almost made me throw up a little.”
“Good,” he rumbles. “You scared me for a minute. So, if it’s not that, then…what’s up?” He smooths a stray hair from my temple. “You don’t have to feel bad about giving him a taste of his own medicine on his wedding day, you know. He started this with what he said in that article. You’re just giving him the clap back he deserves. Honestly, he’s asking for it. If he didn’t want to deal with potential ex drama, he shouldn’t have invited you to the wedding.”
“I know,” I say. “And this isn’t about feeling bad for Teddy or worried about ruining Madison’s big day. I just…” I shrug, shaking my head again. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right anymore. I just…don’t care. I don’t care what they think about me, or what our mutual friends think, or what they say when I don’t show up at the wedding. I just don’t care.” I let out a laugh that feels like freedom. “I honestly couldn’t give less of a shit.”
I meet his eyes again, lips curving into a shy smile as I confess, “I just care about us. About enjoying how fine you look in this suit without worrying about dumb people from my past who are dumb and stupid and annoying and dumb.”
“Super dumb,” he agrees, his gaze warm on mine. “I really like that you just care about us. I really like us. Period.”
I laugh, the icky feeling fading as he hugs me close. “Me, too. So, should I un-RSVP? And you can tell the team you’re available for that Saturday night game?”
“Now hold on there, woman, not so fast.” He chews his bottom lip for a beat as if working through a math problem in his head. “What if we did something else? I already put in to take the game off for the wedding, and there’s a lull in the schedule after. We’d have five whole days. We could get into a lot of trouble in our fancy clothes, we won’t be wearing to Teddy’s stupid wedding in five days.”
My pulse spikes. “Oh my God, we could. What if…”
“What?” he prompts when I trail off, certain I’m being too crazy.
But hell, Nix and I run on crazy. We have from the start.
“What if we go to Paris?” I whisper, giddy excitement growing as he nods.
“Fuck yes,” he whispers back. “That’s what I’m talking about. We should totally go to fucking Paris!”
“I don’t have anything going on at work those days that my staff can’t handle,” I say. “And we probably need to go to Paris. Our clothes are too fancy for New York or even London, really.”
He nods harder. “Agreed. Paris is the only thing that makes sense.”
I roll my eyes, giggling. “I mean, it doesn’t really. It will take an entire day to get there and an entire day back. We’ll only have three full days in the city.”
“But think of all the cheese we can eat in three days,” he says. “All the wine we can drink and the museums we can wander.” His eyes widen as he adds, “And if the opera has something on, we could do that, too. I can book a box and feel you up in the dark while someone sings really loudly in French.”
I grin harder. “Your fantasies crack me up sometimes.”
He hugs me closer, his voice husky as he says, “It won’t be funny in the moment, I promise.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” I murmur, that familiar zing coiling low in my body.
This man has me in a pretty much constant state of “zing” these days, and I have zero complaints. I honestly can’t get enough of him, and now we might be going to Paris.