Page 105 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

Outwardly, Sophia remains cheery for her adoring friends and family. Though, once we reach the bridal suite in the mansion and I shut the door, drowning out all sounds of the wedding, she drops her bouquet and breaks down weeping.

With care, I guide her to the couch where we sit side by side. She places a head on my shoulder and sobs. She ekes out several watery words, most of which I don’t understand. Like I would with a sister, I hug her to my side and rub her back as she processes everything.

I’m processing everything too. I came too close to losing her sparkle to the black hole of Roman.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” She rubs her snotty nose on the sleeve of my shirt.

I place a box of tissues on her lap and tug one out to hand to her.

“I’m sorry I tried to steal the groom.” I pause in thought and then say, “But as awful as I was, I don’t think I regret any of it.”

Sophia blows her nose. Over the tissues, she says, “That’s not a very good apology.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten to know you if I didn’t.” My lips thin. “I’m sorry for all the years we missed, Fifi. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. Or try to.”

“Rule number one, no more trying to mail me out of the country, though the coffin was much cozier than the steamer trunk.”

“I make no promises. It’s my job to stop you from doing stupid things.” I bump my shoulder to hers. “What are the other rules?”

“No more lying.”

“From here on out, consider me an anti-liar, pants not on fire.”

We laugh and then we cry again. And then I come clean about everything.

I explain how I woke up in Miami, flashed Nathan the breasticles and schemed to take the wedding down from the inside. I even tell her how Roman jumped me on the beach.

Sophia considers the new info and then somehow, after hearing how terrible I’ve been, she forgives me for everything. I know I don’t deserve it or her friendship. She’s a better person than I’ll ever be. I promise her, I’ll do better.

After a while, we clean up and return to the main floor of the mansion. Standing at the top of the stairs, the emcee announces Sophia and me. We clasp and raise our hands as the guests cheer us on.

On the dance floor, with everyone encircling us, the music kicks in. For our first sister dance, Sophia and I sway, twirl, and waltz to her wedding song, which we’ve claimed as our sister anthem. When I spin and dip her, the crowd cheers wildly, just like Nathan promised.

But then the DJ breaks in with a new, more appropriate song, one Nathan suggested before we came out.

The sound of a record scratching cuts in, causing Sophia to stand up and look around, confused. When familiar beats pump through the sound system, she bounces in place, hands clapping, and squeals like an asthmatic flamingo as when a song about us being best friends fills the room.

The guests scream, becoming more animated, if that’s possible.

At the center of the dance floor, Sophia twerks, grinding and popping like a pro. I slink around her, working the room like a woman who just learned to dance from her famous stripper boyfriend. Each of our moves play off the other’s, like we choreographed the entire thing.

Mom joins us, her arms swaying like a wasted, hippie flower child, two new men trailing. Dex robots across the floor and then break dances, spinning on his back. He’s so good, I do a double-take to check it’s really him and not a stunt double. The bridesmaids take turns dancing with Mini-Wolf, now dressed in a powder blue tuxedo. I have no idea where he came from, but I don’t care. Freddie catches every happy moment on his phone. Excited guests join the celebration fun-tivities.

Nathan finds me in the crowd. From behind, strong arms slide around my hips, locking them against his. With a light touch, he brushes my hair aside and kisses my neck.

His hot breath strikes a match on my skin, and goose bumps race away from the fire. Instant hunger sweeps between my legs and triggers my beaming nipples.

I lean back, melting closer to him, luxuriating in the fact that this is real. We are real.

Nathan says near my ear, “Congratulations, my diabolical vixen. You successfully crashed the wedding, eliminated the groom, and saved the bride. What’s on your evil agenda next? Wherever you lead, I’ll follow.”

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jeanie

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