by Ashley Jade
Heck, she’s free to come to every fitting I have if she wants to.
I just want to make sure I have the final say in my dress since it’s the only thing about this damn wedding I seem to have any control over.
“I know,” Stone says, sitting up in bed. “But she’s still insulted.”
Annoyed, I start ticking things off with my fingers. “The woman already picked out our wedding cake, our flowers, the priest, and fought me tooth and nail about the venue she wanted us to choose.”
All of which my father is footing the bill for.
“I get it, Bourne. I really do.” He shrugs. “What can I say? She’s just being a mom.”
His words send a pang of hurt through my chest.
I wish she was here.
She should be here for this.
Standing, he drops a quick kiss on my forehead. “Don’t let it ruin your day, though okay?” He tips my chin. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Fine,” I whisper because it’s better than arguing with him on what’s supposed to be a special day.
He treks to the door. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
I stare at the blueberry muffin and grunt in contempt.
“There are so many choices here,” Sawyer assures me. “Don’t give up just yet. We’ll find your dream dress.”
I hope she’s right because if I have to try on another ugly taffeta concoction they have the nerve to call a dress, I swear to God I will rip the shit to shreds.
“You want a sweetheart neckline, right?” Dylan questions.
“At this point I’d take a decent looking paper sack as long as it’s white,” I mutter.
Dylan laughs. “Amen to that. I hate shopping, too.”
That’s the thing. I love shopping. I just can’t seem to find the right dress that’s beckoning me.
Sawyer and Cole’s wedding isn’t for another year and a half, but when we went dress shopping for her, it was lucky number three that ended up being the one. The moment she looked in the mirror you couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
Heck, birds chirped, bells rang, and the heavens opened up as we all squealed like a couple of maniacs because she looked so beautiful.
So happy.
It was a great moment.
Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have her luck because I’ve already tried on fifteen dresses today and they all suck balls.
I’m starting to regret not taking my father up on his offer to get my own designer, but he’s already spent so much on this wedding I felt bad and decided to go with an off the rack dress.
I stalk over to one of the plushy chairs and plop down. “I’m so over this.”
“Calm down,” Sawyer says. “We’re not leaving until we find the one that makes you feel like a princess.” She tracks down a salesgirl and points to something on her phone. “Do you have this dress in stock?”
The woman nods. “As a matter of fact we do, but it’s limited edition and the designer only sent one to the store.” Wincing, her eyes sweep over Sawyer. “It’s a size four though so I’m afraid it won’t fit you.”
Instantly Dylan and I are ready to scratch the bitch’s eyes out, but we don’t have to.
Giving her a big smile, Sawyer simply states, “That’s okay, I already have my wedding dress that I look hot as hell in.” She looks at me. “Fortunately, my friend is a size four and I think this one will be perfect for her.”
The woman nods. “I’ll go bring it out.”
She starts to walk away, but Sawyer clears her throat and says, “Actually, can you have someone else do it?”
The woman blinks. “Why?”
“You work on commission, right?”
The woman raises a brow. “Yes.”
Sawyer flashes her some teeth. “That’s why.”
“You little badass,” Dylan says with a smile.
Sawyer pretends to wipe some dirt off her shoulder. “Damn skippy.”
I start to laugh, but then another woman walks over to us. She’s carrying a huge bouquet of stunning flowers.
“Bianca Covington?”
I exchange a curious glance with Sawyer and Dylan. “Yes?”
She sets the bouquet on the small table next to me. “These are for you.”
“Ooh, la, la,” Sawyer sings. “Someone’s a lucky girl.”
She’s not wrong.
“Tell me about it.” I flip open the card. “This morning it was a red rose and now it’s an entire b—”
I stop talking as I read the card.
She’s with you.
Love, your big brothers.
Tears clog my vision because my brothers are the sweetest assholes in the world.
Dylan and Sawyer’s eyes go wide and they rush to my side.
“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“No.” I reach for a tissue. “Blame your stupid men.”
That only confuses them.
Sawyer blanches. “What do you mean blame our stupid men?”
I show them the note.
And then I quickly hand Sawyer a tissue because she turns into a blubbering mess.
Dylan waves a hand in front of her face and looks up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe he actually listened to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Dylan starts. “I mentioned that today might be hard for you because…” Her voice trails off.
Because we’re both members of the club that no one wants to be in.
The dead mother’s club.
Emotion rises in my throat all over again. “Thank you.”
I make a mental note to do the same for her when Jace finally gets his shit together and pops the question.
She gives my hand a small squeeze. “It wasn’t me. They came up with the flowers and the note all on their own.”
Sawyer blows her nose. Loudly. “That was so sweet.”
We’re such a sight that when a saleslady approaches us with the dress we requested, she pales and says, “Is this a bad time? I can come back.”
“No,” Sawyer says. “It’s a perfect time.”
She’s right. This has to be a sign.
I haul myself out of the chair. “Fine, but if this isn’t it, I’m getting married in a paper bag.”
Sawyer and Dylan usher me into the fitting room.
“No giving up,” Sawyer chides. “And no getting married in a paper bag because I’m telling you, I saw this dress and it screamed Bianca.”
“If you say so.” After I strip down to my undies, I squeeze my eyes shut and raise my arms. “Just put the damn thing over my head and zip me up.”
After what feels like an eternity filled with random tugs and pulls of fabric, they finally spin me around.
And their mouths drop open.
“Holy shit,” Sawyer breathes. “I knew it would look beautiful on her, but…damn.”
“I know,” Dylan says. “It’s…”
“The one,” they say at the same time.
The suspense is killing me, especially since there are no mirrors in these tiny dressing rooms which means you have to walk out to the main room set up with random mini-stages.
“Move out of my way so I can see.”
They start to, but pause abruptly.
“Wait,” Sawyer says. “How do you want to wear your hair?”
I shrug because I haven’t given it much thought. I was too worried about finding the right dress.
“I don’t know. Up, maybe?”
Dylan winces. “You have such pretty hair though.”
“Fine. Half up and half down.”
“Perfect,” Sawyer exclaims. “Do you have a clip?”
I shake my head.
“Don’t worry.” Dylan takes the jaw clip out of her hair. “I got you.”
Sawyer starts sifting her fingers through my hair and Dylan snorts. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be doing Bianca’s hair.”
Sawyer starts laughing. “You and me both.”
Unfortunately, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.
They must notice my confusion because Dylan says, “Hair and makeup were always your thing, and there was a time when you made Sawyer your personal project and gave her a makeover.”
Needless to say, I don’t remember any of that. “Oh.” I look at Sawyer. “Did I do a good job?”
Sawyer and Dylan exchange a forlorn glance before Sawyer ruffles my hair. However, there’s no mistaking the sadness in her eyes. “Yeah.”
A moment later, they make me close my eyes, haul me out of the dressing room, and position me on one of the stages.
“Okay,” Sawyer declares after what feels like forever. “Open your eyes.”
When I do, I’m…speechless.
They weren’t kidding when they said the dress was perfect.
I take in the white, strapless tulle ballgown with a sweetheart neckline, full skirt, and long dramatic train. I turn a little and the sequins catch the light, making me sparkle like a ballerina in a music box.
I feel exactly like a princess.
And then I realize…
My mom’s wedding dress was a fancy sequin ball gown too.
My dad said she looked so beautiful his heart physically stopped when he saw her.
“This is the one,” I choke out.
“It fits you like a glove, you’ll hardly need any alterations,” the salesgirl says.
Dylan smiles. “It’s like it was made for you.”
“You look gorgeous,” Sawyer exhales. “Stone is going to pass out when he sees you.”
A smile spreads across my lips as visions of me wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to meet Stone flash through my mind.
Suddenly, the room starts spinning and white-hot panic punches through my chest because it becomes impossible to get enough air into my lungs.
“Get it off me,” I scream, my hands flying to my throat as beads of sweat dot my forehead and spots form in front of my eyes.
When they don’t move fast enough, I start clawing at the dress, desperate to rip the fabric off because I can’t breathe.
I’m dying.
“Get it off,” I scream as loud as I can before gasping for air. “I need it off now.”
Sawyer wraps her arms around me as Dylan starts undoing the corset.
“It’s okay,” Sawyer whispers. “It’s gonna be okay.”
No, it won’t.
Sawyer tightens her hold as my body breaks out in a fit of uncontrollable shakes.
“What’s happening?” The salesgirl squawks. “Does she need something to eat? Does she have a medical condition?”
“No,” Dylan snaps. “Just give us a few minutes alone.”
After they both help me out of the dress, Dylan runs back to the fitting room to fetch my clothes.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Sawyer starts wiping my tears away with a tissue before forcing me to drink some water.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, feeling so embarrassed I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
She gives her head a shake. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She places her palm on my forehead. “You still feel clammy, though. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “It’s just cold feet. Happens to every bride, right?”
She cups my cheeks and the look she gives me is so full of concern my heart twists. “That didn’t look like cold feet or nerves. That was…I don’t know, it was almost like you were fighting for your life.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Bianca, do you want to marry Stone?”
I place a hand to my aching chest as another tear streams down my cheek. “I care about him, Sawyer. So much.”
She hugs me so tight it almost hurts. “I know you do, honey. But if you’re having reservations about this, and it’s clear you are…you need to listen to your heart and do what’s best for you.”
She has a point.
“But my dad already paid for everything.”
“I get that,” Sawyer says. “But you and I both know your dad would never want you to spend the rest of your life with someone if you were having serious doubts about it.”
Again…she has a point.
“It just happened so fast, you know? One moment we were graduating high school, and the next he was getting down on one knee and—”
“You never had time to think if it was what you really wanted,” Dylan interjects.
“Exactly.”
She hands me my jeans and t-shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I really think you owe it to yourself to take some time to think about it.”
As much as I hate to admit it because it’s a bitter pill to swallow …
They’re right.
Chapter 31
Bianca
“You seem off today?” Oakley notes.
Probably because I still haven’t ended my engagement with Stone.
One—because he’s so busy there hasn’t been any time.
And two—how do you look someone you care about in the eyes and tell them you want to downgrade them from your fiancé to your boyfriend?
Ugh, my life is one giant clusterfuck.
“I’m fine,” I grit through my teeth.
He eyes me with amusement. “If you say so.”
Agitated, I get off my bed and start pacing around my dorm room. “But even if I wasn’t, it’s not like I could talk to you about it.”
It’s clear I’ve insulted him because he crosses his arms over his chest. I instantly avert my gaze because the ropey muscles and thick veins running along his forearms are distracting as hell.
“You can tell me anything.”
Not this.
I quicken my pacing. “No, I can’t.” I pause. “You know why.”
I’m really hoping he fills in the blanks, so I don’t have to say it aloud.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “No, I don’t. Because you won’t fucking tell me.”
“That’s because I can’t,” I argue.
“Why?”
“Because I shouldn’t be talking about any of this with you since we used to be…you know, friends with benefits.” I wave a hand. “Fuck buddies who didn’t actually fuck…whatever you want to call it.”
Therefore, hearing me talk about my relationship problems with another man might make things…awkward.
Suddenly, he stands.
Before I can blink, he stalks toward me and doesn’t stop until my back is pressed against the wall and he’s bracing his arms on either side of my head.
“Let’s get one thing straight, baby girl. You were never my fuck buddy.”
I can’t tell if he’s trying to insult me…or compliment me. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mea—”
Words die in my throat when his thumb ghosts over my cheekbone. “You were more than that.”
His statement—along with the intense look he’s aiming my way—punches the breath out of me. “I wish I could remember.”
With a solemn expression, his hand cups the back of my neck. “Me too.”
I tilt my face up. Our lips are so close we’re exchanging the same air. “I need to know what hap—”
A loud knock on the door makes me jump.
“Campus police,” someone who definitely sounds like my brother Cole barks.
“Ass,” Jace mutters through laughter. “Open up. We brought you some dinner.”
Shit on a thousand sticks.
Sheer panic surges through me and I start ushering Oakley toward my closet.
‘Get in there,’ I mouth.
He gives me a look that says, ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’
But I’m not.
My closet is so tiny and he’s so tall I feel bad cramming him in there, but it’s the only option I have. He can’t hide under my bed because they might see him, and he can’t crawl out of my window because I’m on the sixth floor.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
I’m about to close the door, but he halts me. “Hold up.”
“What’s wrong?”
He gives me an impish grin. “Save me some food.”
Good Lord. This guy and his obsession with food is unmatched.
I can’t help but laugh as I close the closet door and walk across my dorm room so I can let my brothers in.
“What took you so long?” Jace questions the moment I see him.
“I aged fifty years,” Cole gripes.
They try to walk in, but I start coughing up a lung. “Sorry. I’m actually really sick.”
Concern washes over their faces.
“What’s wrong? Do you need us to take you to a doctor?”
“No.” I wave a hand. “It’s just a cold. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”
They exchange a serious glance before Cole says, “Maybe we should let you get some sleep then.”
Jace gives me a wary look. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Positive,” I assure them. “I’m just gonna take some cold medicine and turn in for the night. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Jace concedes, but it’s clear he’s still worried. “Is there anything we can get you?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“I’ll call you later,” Jace says before they start walking away.
“Wait,” I call out.
When they stop, I quickly snatch the bag out of Cole’s hand “Have a good night. Thanks for the food.”
I ignore the perplexed expressions on their faces as I sprint back inside.
Past…
Every nerve in my body fires with white-hot pleasure as Oakley continues doing sinful things to me with his talented tongue.
Somehow, he’s managed to not only discover all my hot spots…but find new ones I wasn’t even aware of.
And today is no exception.
After I sucked him off like a good girl, he made it his mission to tease me relentlessly by bringing me to the brink…but always stopping just short of me orgasming.
“Please,” I beg as he flicks my clit.
I’m so close I can taste it.
He groans low and deep, lapping at my slickness with more fervor—like he’s eating my pussy for his pleasure instead of mine.
