Page 2 of The Wedding Situation Romance

People go into them with so much hope, hope that they need to screenshot and tuck away for the rainy days when life gets hard. Because with foundations like this, anything can be overcome. Any obstacle can be faced if you only do it together.

Love can and will always win.

Suddenly, despite my overwhelming joy for my friend, a pang of loneliness starts bubbling up from my belly to my throat.

I am, afterall, here alone. I sleep alone. I wake up alone.

And I go to weddings alone.

“Look at those two…” a man standing next to me at the bar says while watching Dani and Justin.

“I know, right?” I gush, my eyes still on them as well.

“So temporarily happy. So much money wasted. Such a shame.”

I slowly turn to him, mouth gaping, expression unapologetically disgusted.

“Excuse you,” I hiss up at him.

And yes, even in my heels, I have to look up at him. Very up.

He’s got to be no less than 6 foot two. Stacked. Mahogany hair dashed with salt and pepper. Eyes the color of the ocean (not the blue beaches but the deep sea that could swallow you whole at the turn of the tide).

He’s attractive.

And he’s out of his mind.

“What?” he asks. “Most relationships don’t even last five years anymore. Just stating the facts.”

“Yeah well, that happens to be one of my best friends. And I like to think, no,chooseto believe that they will live happily ever after,” I state, taking a sip of my champagne.

“And I like to be realistic,” he says, taking a measured sip of his beer. “They still have time to run.”

“Let me guess. Single?” I shoot back, still looking at Dani because as heated as I am right now, it’s hard to be this salty when I’m staring at the Atlantic Ocean.

But the man turns to me, his eyes slowly raking up and down my body without indifference. “Let me guess. Same?”

My mouth pops open in a scoff. “How dare you?”

“You fired the first shot,” he says casually, and I swear to God those cocky lips of his are twitching in a smirk.

“No. You fired the first shot when you said my friend’s marriage is dead on arrival,” I say.

“Like I said, I’m a realist.”

Before either of us can say anything else (which is honestly probably a good thing), Dani rushes over, her pink heels that match all the bridesmaid dresses clacking as she holds up a mountain of tulle. “Quinn! There you are! Oh, and I see you met Reid.”

I don’t bother to look at him, though I can tell he’s looking at me. I canfeelit.

“Come on, you two, the whole wedding party has to be at our table,” she says.

I take a seat three seats down from Dani. She is a friend of mine from Sweet Cakes, a bakery I worked at a few years back before starting We Still Do.

While we are still good friends, I’m not the maid of honor so I’m further down the totem pole.

Which is fine by me, except that it turns outReidis also on the same tier, which puts him in the chair directly across from me.

Lovely.