Page 109 of Bridesmaid for Hire
“Yeah,” I answer as I get out of bed. “Let me just go to the bathroom first.”
I quickly relieve myself, wash my hands, and because I’m so fucking attracted to this girl and don’t want her to regret last night, I adjust my hair in the mirror and then head out to the deck. There, she’s uncovered a plate of eggs, a plate of pancakes, a fruit platter, and some bacon.
She’s pouring coffee for both of us when I sit.
“Did you order this?” I ask.
“No. Reginald sent it with another card.” She lifts up the envelope and I glance at it.
“Have you read it?” She shakes her head, so I take it from her. “If this says anything about my snake bite, I’m leaving this island.” She chuckles as I read it out loud. “‘Good morning. Hope you slept well. The family is going on the yacht today to a private island. We would love for you to join us. Meet in the lobby at ten.”
“A private island? Sounds fancy,” Maggie says, as if we didn’t just rock each other’s worlds last night.
Okay, so we’re not going to talk about it. Good to know.
“A yacht sounds even fancier.” I set the card down. “Do you think you can get seasick on a yacht?”
She cuts into her pancakes but pauses when I pose my question. “Do you get seasick?”
“Well, I didn’t think I did until we had to take a boat from the airport to the resort. That’s when I found out waves and I don’t go well together.”
“That was a little boat—I think yachts are better.” She raises her brow at me. “Do you think you’ll get seasick?”
“No idea.” I lift up my coffee. “But I don’t think I should miss out on a private island thing.” I shrug. “It’s not like I haven’t puked in front of them already.”
“Very true,” she says, “but maybe grab some anti-nausea medication.” With that, she casually returns to her pancakes, not a worry in the world.
Doesn’t she want to talk about what happened last night?
Doesn’t she want to at least acknowledge the fact that she had my dick in her mouth?
Brainstorm a solution for handling this moving forward?
Our contract could use about a thousand new addendums at this point.
Am I allowed to kiss her?
Hold her hand while we’re eating breakfast?
Is that too fucking clingy?
Yes, Brody. It’s way too clingy.
Read the room. She’s casual. So you act fucking casual.
She’s probably acting cool and calm because she’s more of a professional than you’ll ever be.Here I am, crushing on a girl when I should be figuring out a way to get Reginald on my good side.
But I’m just not built that way.
Jaleesa could sense it when she said I was getting distracted—I’m a bit of a cinnamon roll. Sure, I’m a touch crusty on the outside, held together by sarcasm and hard work, but on the inside, I’m a fucking gooey mess, clinging to the fact that the woman sitting across from me is my dream girl. AllIwant to do is kiss her and hold her and tell her she is so fucking beautiful. But I don’t think she’s there.
So where is she?
Should I ask?
No…don’t ask.
You’ll look like a tool.
