She fans her face, and I roll my eyes. I have to. She’s not wrong. Beck writes them better than any of the guys. I’d never share that, of course, because to anyone who asks, I’ve never read his books.
But he does.
“I still like your first idea better.” I grab my phone and pull out the notes list app. “Let’s brainstorm ideas.”
With heavy sighs, both girls just nod.
“Well, what’s he like?” Greer asks. “What would drive him nuts?”
I think for a second and smile like the Cheshire cat. Considering Beck and my brother have been friends since junior high, I know Beck a lot better than I like to admit.
And if Beck is the female me, if I hate it, he will too. This is going to be easy.
I put my phone back in my purse.
“I think Operation Drive Beck Bonkers won’t need that much planning. I already have ideas.”
I let out a long breath and nod.
I can do this. I’ll have him counting down the days until I sign those papers, and I’m out of his life for good. He’ll practically pack my things for me.
I look up to find two waiting faces.
“What?” I ask.
“Um, we still want to know how you two got married.”
I shake my head.
“You’ll tell us, eventually. Just tell us now.”
Damn. They know me too well.
“Do you want the short version or the long version?”
“The long one.” Greer takes the chair next to Willa.
“Don’t leave out a single detail,” Willa adds.
“Okay, do you have wine? I might need it for this.”
Willa squeals. “Man, I wish Beck was here for this. I’d love to get his side too.”
I scratch my nose to hide my grin. I have a feeling I know exactly how his side of things went. Like I said, I know him better than I care to admit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CALLA - VEGAS
The farther into the club Beck and I get, the louder the music grows. We follow a long dark hallway toward flashing lights altering between purple, blue, green, yellow, and red. At the end of the hallway, we come to a large, open room packed with bodies. I step to the rail and look down at the dance floor. It’s a three-level club, and we’re on the second floor, with the dance floor at the center of the first. Dancers in sparkling silver outfits dance on individual platforms in each corner of the space. Booths with personal waitresses—I assume this is the bottle service the guy at the front tried to sell us on—line each level of the club.
“This is insane,” Beck says behind me. His front brushes my backside, which causes my heart to race.
Until Beck made the comment to get married, I’d never looked at him as more than this hot guy my brother was friends with, but something, I can’t even tell you what, but something from that one remark flipped a switch inside me.
It flipped so hard that I had to get us out of there. I had to get air and think. I want to say yes. But that would be crazy.
We were just caught in drinks and those random dudes hitting on me and needed a change of scenery.
