Page 18 of No Darker Temptation

His name isn’t Brentworth, just Brent. Stacy just likes to fuck with him.

I snicker into my cocktail and Brent sends an accusatory glance in my direction. “I seem to recall that a bachelorette weekend in Atlantic City was your idea. What else is there but the boardwalk and casinos?”

“Exactly. Bachelorette.” I swing my arm around. “Not the entire bridal party and most certainly not in November during Thanksgiving weekend. You two were originally supposed to get married next April, remember?”

Until six months ago when he randomly decided to move up the date. I have no idea how he convinced Karina. She’s always dreamed of an April wedding and she loathes the cold. A winter wedding is nothing short of a hellscape for her.

“And if you weren’t with the rest of us right now, where exactly would you be?”

“At home where all seven of us are wearing matching robes and fuzzy slippers but in different colors while we gorge ourselves on Chinese takeout, cheap Moscato, and rewind the hand-flex scene from Pride and Prejudice forty-seven times without judgement.”

Stacy lifts her glass to the ceiling. “Amen sister!”

Without looking back, I pick up mine and we clank cocktails. Brent’s eyes roll so far back I see the whites. “That sounds pathetic.”

My skin prickles with indignation. “It does not.”

“I understand that as a maid of honor of limited means⁠—”

“Limited means?”

“It’s a shot to the ego when you can’t give Karina all the wedding experiences she wants. I get that. But I can. It’s why I planned this entire thing and paid for it. This was in your original planner before we changed the wedding date.”

“Brent, Karina hates the fucking cold, isn’t a heavy drinker, doesn’t know all your friends very well,” I list each one off my fingers. “And hasn’t seen half of her bridal party in almost a year because they live out of state. What the fuck made you think Atlantic City in the winter with your groomsmen was a good idea?”

His nostrils flare as he struggles to regulate his breathing. “Do you get off on being such a joyless bitch? Or is that side of yourself reserved just for me?”

Stacy chokes on her drink.

“If I were you, I’d try the words thank you for once.”

“And if I was a man whose height started with a five, I’d bring my attitude down to a level I could actually reach.” I hop off the stool and snatch my drink along with me.

I storm off before he can retaliate, Stacy close on my heels. She loops her arm through mine and snickers like a Disney villain on steroids. “My favorite thing on earth is watching you knock him down a peg.”

I throw my drink back and finish it in a single gulp before taking Stacy’s and consuming that one in record time. “If I remember any of what just happened tomorrow morning, I’m holding you responsible.”

She gasps. “Are we getting white girl wasted?”

“Hell yes we are.”

It was a mistake to get belligerently drunk.

The last time stars crowded the edges of my vision was at Bo Parker’s Christmas party during senior year. We dated for a record-breaking six weeks (longest for me, shortest for him) and his family had Upper West Side money, not to be confused with Upper East Side money. His parents owned a house up by Lake George and he invited the entire class. The month before, the first group of seniors was selected for Phi Theta Kappa and to celebrate, I think I let half the new inductees lick salt off my breasts before taking tequila shots.

I don’t really know. Can’t remember much. As a matter of fact, Brent and Karina picked me up the very next afternoon like the dutiful Mom and Dad that they were filling in for.

Point being, I don’t think I’m built for partying like this anymore. It’s a miracle I manage to stay on my own two feet but at some point, I trip on the carpet and land against the wall. Muttering a curse, I reach down and yank off my heels. At this point they’re useless and my room is around the corner. Besides, walking barefoot in a ritzy hotel is the staple of a night well partied.

Our rooms are in the south tower. Whoever didn’t fit in the two master suites across from each other is staying in the next rooms over which means the last four doors at the end of the hall are being occupied by a bridal party of fourteen, bride and groom plus six bridesmaids and six groomsmen. I don’t have enough friends to fill a bridal party.

Just as I’m rounding the corner, one of the doors opens and abrupt voices follow. Inebriated or not, instinct sends me reeling back a few steps as Yulissa’s voice drifts down the hall.

“—can’t be serious?”

I tilt my head to steal a glimpse at what’s happening. All I catch is Brent’s hand running down her bare arm as he says, “Go to sleep. You’re drunk.”

“There’s still time. I hope you know that.”