How to Ruin a Wedding(49)

A hand slides over my back; Anders leans down in what will appear to them as a kiss on my cheek, but he says, “Sorry, they came without warning.”

I refrain from jerking from his grasp in front of his family, but I pull away just slightly, and he frowns at the movement. I was hoping to snuff out this awkwardness the moment we spoke today, but I guess it’ll have to wait.

When I move to walk away, Anders snakes his hand around my waist and pulls me toward him. I can’t wiggle free without raising flags to his family, so I just smile and let him lead us to the counter.

Bethany pours a shot of espresso into a glass of iced milk, then pushes it my way. “Hear you’re not a fan of tea.”

I glance over at Anders. When did he tell Bethany about that? He just learned that fact, and it’s not something necessary to share. Is he speaking about me to other people, just randomly?

“Thank you.” I grab the iced coffee and drink; the flavor is much more bearable than anything you have to steep a bag of tea in. “What brings you here this morning?”

“Today is the Sunday market,” Bethany says, pouring syrup into a different glass. “I thought you could join us for some girl time. We haven’t had a chance to get you alone yet. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” I say, pinching Anders. “You could have woken me once they got here. I’m sorry for holding you all up.”

Anders brushes a stray wave behind my ear. “You just looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Sweet.” I glare at him when he squeezes me tighter to his side. “I can be ready in fifteen.” I give Anders, in his oversized shirt and gray sweatpants—a painfully attractive boyfriend look—a frown. “Are you going like that?”

“I’m not going at all,” he says, and I feel my eyes widen.

“What’s the matter?” Bethany asks with a smirk. “Nervous to spend some time with us without a buffer?”

“Nope.” I recover quickly. “I’m just nervous you’ll fall in love with me and favor me over Anders. He’ll be devastated.”

Bethany cackles. “We’ll see about that.” She waves me off. “Go on, the market opens soon.”

Anders lets me go, and I grip his arm and pull. He doesn’t give me the grace of pretending to follow me like I’m urging him to.

“Can you help me reach something at the top of the closet?” I smile at him, yanking the bottom of his shirt.

“I left the stool there for you.” He removes my hand and takes a glass from Bethany.

I narrow my eyes at him. Is he avoiding me? That’s not one of the scenarios I played out in my spiral this morning. I’m not sure how to approach that. I could play along, act like nothing happened, and that way neither of us have to face last night.

An option, yet something about this is pissing me off.

I breathe in through my nose and force a smile before walking off. My routine is a fast movement of scrubbing my skin until it reddens under the shower, slapping makeup on my face, and slamming around every item I pick up.

Out of all the options to play at, Anders choosing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen is the worst choice. Is he regretful? Sure, I am, but why is he? Is it because he agrees this is too messy, or am I some mistake he wishes to erase?

I shouldn’t care, I don’t want to care, and this flurry of emotions is exactly why I should have closed my goddamn legs in the first place.

When I walk out to the kitchen again, I make sure I appear pleasant, easygoing. The girls sit on the oversized couch, gazes glued to some cooking show.

I approach Anders on the gray love seat and sit on the arm, the bottom of my pale sundress inching up my thigh. He wraps his arm around me, so I fall on top of him. “You okay?” he asks on my arm, his lips moving against the skin there in his kissing-and-speaking method that sends a line of heat down my spine.

I tap his thigh and say to the girls, “I’m ready when you are.”

Olive says, “Oh, you look so pretty.”

The power of an angry hand patting-on an immaculate face. “Not as pretty as you.”

“Yeah, right,” she says, but she can’t help but smile as she gets up.

“Perfect.” Bethany stands. “Don’t wait up—we’re stealing your girl for the whole day.”

“I’ll bring you back a treat,” Olive promises.

“You’re the best,” he answers.

When the girls head toward the front door, backs to us, I inch forward so that my dress hikes up. I arch and lift myself from Anders, giving him a half-second view of my pantie-less ass before the fabric falls back down.

He’s up before I can blink, pulling me back toward him, grabbing my chin to face him. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

I narrow my eyes at him. No matter if he’s pretending yesterday didn’t happen, his body’s reaction to me was not something he could control. If he’s going to try to erase it from his memory without talking to me first, I’m going to make it as painful as possible for him.

It’s completely hypocritical of me, but my pride as a woman is on the line, and I need the last laugh. Just for today, I’ll be a tease. Tomorrow, I’ll remember to be a professional, sane person.

I tap his chest lightly. “What are you talking about?”