Page 166 of Bridesmaid Undercover
EVERLY
“Ember,” I whisper into the phone as I keep my eyes on Hardy, who is talking to Maple on the couch by the pool. Polly and Ken are in the middle of the dance floor making out, while others mill about playing beer pong, eating food, and cheering on the bride and groom who are still tied together.
“What?” she asks. “Are you whispering?”
“Yes. I don’t want anyone to hear me.” I glance around again, making sure no one is near.
We are on red alert, people.Things have happened at this party and not just things, but…things.
There has been touching.
Smiling.
Dare I say…flirting?
God, imagine a world where Hardy Hopper would actually flirt with me. I can’t. I can’t fathom it, that’s why I’m calling my sister. I need help!
“Okay…what’s going on?”
“I’m at the party and I’m slightly drunk, not too drunk, but drunk enough that I feel like I don’t have my faculties together, and I know you’re going to say I’m losing my mind, but I don’t think I’m losing my mind—I think I’m right, and I know you’re going to say I’m wrong, but I need to talk to someone about it, or I might just do something really, really stupid.”
“Uh, okay, take a breath for a moment. Does this have to do with Hardy?”
“Yes, and I have only seconds here, so just listen. He asked Maple out and she said no, not interested—insane if you ask me, but her choice. He’s been weird with me, and I don’t know why—he won’t say—but at the party, he’s been pretty normal, at least after I told him he was ignoring me, but that doesn’t matter…some things have been happening.”
“Uh, okay. What’s happened?”
“Well, there’s been talking, and touching, and looking, and…and his friends have mentioned Hardy likes me. Like blatantly said he likes me and I, naturally, laughed it off, but alcohol must make my brain sticky because I haven’t been able to shake off the thought of him potentially having feelings for little old me.So, my question is, does he really like me? I mean he’s been looking at me differently tonight, Ember. With…uh…heady eyes? Hungry eyes? Potent? One of those. Either way, it’s making me feel nutty inside, a little turned on, and slightly unhinged, to the point that I worry. I worry that I’m dreaming this up in my head and out of nowhere, because I want him so bad I’m just going to randomly grope him. Hand to crotch. To penis. To junk. Right there, my palm to his?—”
“I get it,” Ember says, sounding exasperated. “First of all, don’t grab his penis. Men have the right to grant permission too.”
“I know. I know. I wouldn’t really grab his penis.” I know I said it, but it doesn’t sound convincing.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t believe myself,” I say. “Ugh, help me, Ember.”
“I’m trying, but you’re talking so fast and slightly erratically.”
“Because I’m scared someone will hear, or he’ll wonder why I’m taking so long in the bathroom.”
“Oh God, you told him you were going to the bathroom?”
“Yes, that’s why we are on borrowed time.”
“We must make haste then—can’t have him thinking you’re spending too much time, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” I say in a panic. “So help me!”
She chuckles. “Well, do you think he likes you?”
I glance out the window to where Hardy and Maple are chatting. “I don’t know, I feel like the tables have been turned.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“I think I’m no longer the bridesmaid undercover…” Whispering, I add, “I think it’s Maple.”
“What? This is so confusing.”
