Page 32 of Bridesmaid By Chance
There’s silence, and then he twists the handle and thank God we locked it. “Sloane, let me in.”
“Can’t,” I say. “Uh, Stacey is naked, from the plucking.”
“What?” she whispers at me, murder in her eyes.
“Sloane, now.” Hudson’s voice grows tense.
And I’m about to try to reassure him that everything is fine when Stacey moves toward the door.
My lips purse and my eyes narrow. “Don’t,” I say. She moves even closer. “Stacey,” I whisper-shout, pointing my finger at her. “Stop. Don’t.”
But it’s too late. She unlocks the door, and Hudson charges into the bathroom, where he finds me looking like a toilet paper mummy, up against the wall, with my eyeball half hanging out of my head—not really, but have to play up the dramatics for the imagery.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks, taking me in and then looking over at Stacey.
Nervously Stacey backs away. “I think I’m going to introduce myself to the reverend and find out where he grew up,” she says as she moves out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with Hudson.
When the door clicks shut, Hudson closes the distance between us and starts tearing off the toilet paper that’s sticking to my sweaty skin.
“What are you doing, Sloane?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask.
“No.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” I let out a pent-up breath and say, “Just nervous and sweaty and trying to combat the sweatiness with toilet paper and then my sister whipped me in the eye and now you’re going to have an eyeless bride. So, sorry about that.”
He continues to help me with the toilet paper and stays silent as I allow myself to give my future husband a good once-over. He’s wearing a dark blue suit, not quite navy but not royal blue either, maybe a color in between. He’s paired it with a black button-up shirt and a black tie. His full head of hair is styled off to the side but also sort of pieced in the front, making him exponentially more attractive. And because it’s eight at night, his five o’clock shadow has come in, giving him a darker, more mysterious look.
And I’m supposed to be all casual and act like marrying this man is no big deal?
Afraid not.
The man is disgustingly attractive. No single human should be as good-looking as him.
“You know, I’m nervous too,” he says.
“Yeah, I can tell. You’re really shaking in your loafers.”
He finishes removing the toilet paper and pulls me away from the wall. “I am nervous. I apparently just don’t sweat as much as you.”
I peel the toilet paper from my armpits and deposit it in the trash can. “Yes, well, you’re missing out.”
“Is your eye okay? It looks like it’s bruising.”
“Really?” I turn toward the mirror, and sure enough, that’s a bruise forming in the corner. “Lovely. Just what I was hoping for on this precious day of marriage, a black eye.” I let out a breath and turn toward Hudson. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“You can still back out,” he says as I head toward the bathroom door.
“You gave me a check. I’m not backing out.”
“You can keep it,” he says, looking all kinds of serious. “Consider it a loan or a bonus. Hell, it could be for the bridesmaid work.”
I shake my head. “No, this was my idea, and I’m going through with it. We’re getting married.”
“Sloane.”
“What?”
