Page 277 of Hot Mess
“Yeah, I’m happy for you,” he said, like he was offended I’d suggest otherwise. “If you’re happy, and she cares about you…”
He went over by my music nook, but instead of sitting on any of my new furniture, he sat down on the floor with his back to the windows, and looked at me.
“You know I never liked Elle for you,” he said. “Or Summer, in the end. Neither of them loved you enough.” He shrugged. “I love you more than either of them do. But it probably makes me a real asshole to say that now.”
I went and sat down next to him. “Just tell me we’ll always be tight.”
“Of course we will be,” he said. I looked into his green-gold eyes. “We are. How could you even question that?”
“Don’t know,” I admitted. “Wondered if maybe I’d lost you along the way.”
“Nope,” he said. “Still stuck with me.”
“Good.”
He held my gaze. “I’m really happy for you, Ash,” he said, and it felt really fucking good.
“Thanks.”
“So when do I get to meet this girl?”
I thought about that. It was almost dawn. Between the two of us actually getting some sleep today, and the wedding tonight, there wasn’t much other time to be had.
“At the wedding,” I said. “It’s for the best, really. You’ll be all cleaned up, make a good impression on her.”
Dylan grinned. “Sounds great. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you,” he said. He was still studying me, and I couldn’t have lied to him if I tried.
He wouldn’t have believed me anyway.
I fucking sighed. “Don’t tell anyone,” I said, and drank my beer.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Danica
Ashley and I arrived at Brody and Jessa’s wedding at exactly three o’clock, like we’d been invited to. For a rock star, I’d come to learn that my boyfriend was generally quite punctual. He respected other people’s time—especially when they were doing important things like getting married.
He wasn’t even all that hungover, considering he’d been out all night.
He’d finally finished restoring his gorgeous black ’68 Camaro a few weeks back—apparently, it had been a several-year project—and had brought it out of Dylan’s garage on the island and over to the city. So we cruised to the wedding in it. It was a gorgeous August afternoon, and we found a nice spot to park on one of the beautiful old tree-lined streets of the Dunbar neighborhood.
Ashley took my hand as we walked up to the house where the wedding was taking place.
I’d wondered what Ash would wear to a wedding, and while he’d assured me he’d force himself into a suit if it was necessary, he’d said that this event was “rock-star-wedding casual.” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, until he picked me up looking yummy in slim-fitting black pants and a short-sleeved button-up shirt, also black and body-hugging, and yes, Vans. Which were black-and-white and looked new.
He looked perfectly rock-star-delicious.
My sister had helped me choose what I hoped would be the perfect dress for the occasion. It was a pale-blue bandage dress. Figure-hugging, very sexy, yet classy. I’d wanted to tread the line between something that would make Ashley so hot to fuck me that he’d rip it right off me at the end of the night… and something that would still be appropriate to wear in front of our hostess—Zane’s elderly grandma.
The wedding was in her backyard, and though I was told the event would be “small,” it didn’t feel that way as we walked up the drive.
The house was anything but small, and it was gorgeous. It had to be at least a century old, though well-maintained. It sat on a large, tree-lined lot, back from the street on a wide green lawn. The long driveway had only a few cars parked in it, but there were several valets both parking cars and directing people where to park on the residential streets surrounding the house.
There was also security. Quite a lot of it, from what I could see. Big dudes lined the driveway, standing watch, not being all that inconspicuous about it. A couple of them were greeting guests—or checking their identification, maybe. I didn’t watch that closely.
