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Chapter 16
Tilly
“This is ridiculous.” I throw the bland dress across the room and fall back onto my bed.
“Wow. I see the dramatics are in full effect today," Bekka quips from beside me.
I glare at her as she sips from a Starbucks cup. “Shouldn’t you be…I don’t know. Wedding planning. When are you and my brother getting hitched?” I ask.
“I told him, I don’t care about all the fancy stuff. I just want this one venue. It’s gorgeous. Very rustic. We were hoping for May, but they were booked so we’re pushing it to fall.”
All that just sounds like a headache. I groan and sit up from the bed.
“So…” she drawls out. “Adam mentioned you had car trouble last night.”
“Yeah. Deer came out of nowhere,” I mutter as I climb off the bed and go to my closet.
“Hmmm,” she hums.
She’s fishing, but I ignore her, rummaging through the hangers.
I received a text this morning from Greyson.
Grey: Your car is at Tony’s. You might need an alternate ride the for the next week, so check your driveway. Keys should be in the floorboard.
I replied with a simple thank you. I didn’t ask him to do all this.
Oh, that’s right, my brother did.
And wouldn’t you know. A freaking brand new Ford Bronco was in my driveway the next morning. Who just pulls a brand new vehicle out of their ass?
“Are you going to pretend Greyson didn’t come get you?” She muses from behind me.
“Yes, but something tells me you aren’t going to let me.” I spin around and plant my hands on my hips.
She shrugs innocently. “He has good intentions, Tills.”
I snort. “Right. Let me guess, he does 'what’s best for me.'” I mock with air quotes.
I recall something very similar to the last words he said to me before stomping all over my heart.
Bekka’s eyes are so kind I hate that I’m being harsh, but everyone gives him a pass. Everyone but me.
“It has to be beige.” I announce, changing the subject.
She makes a face. “What has to be beige?”
“My outfit.” I wave a hand at the dress that made me look like my great aunt Margaret.
“Why?” She laughs. “You are anything but beige.”
“I don’t really know. Blaine just instructed me to dress “classy” and he would prefer beige. His mother would like it.” As soon as I say the words, I want to reel them back in.
“You’re joking right?” She gawks.
“Afraid not.” I sigh.
My phone buzzes and another groan forces its way up my throat. I had been ignoring my older, very anti-relationship sister all week. She was still in California, working her way up the corporate ladder, but never let anything that happened here at home slip by her. Including this engagement.
