Page 45
We were in my hotel room, getting ready for Leanne and Ryan’s wedding. Angela was sitting in front of a mirror propped on the desk while I worked on twisting her hair into an elegant updo that would hopefully survive the ocean breeze during the ceremony.
I’d already gotten dressed in a flowy lavender dress that fell just below my knees, and I’d spent far too much time on my makeup this morning. Mostly because I needed something to keep me occupied. Something other than thinking about Greyson.
Which was nearly impossible.
I hadn’t slept well last night. Again. And I was beginning to think that the dark circles under my eyes were going to become permanent. And here I was, hoping to feel rejuvenated after my vacation.
Wishful thinking.
I stepped back to admire my handiwork. It was pretty good, but there were a few loose strands on the right side.
“We’re almost done,” I muttered, grabbing two more bobby pins. Angela turned her head to inspect her hair from another angle, and I swatted her shoulder. “Stop moving.”
“Okay, okay.” She faced forward again, but her eyes met mine in the mirror just as I put the last bobby pins in place. “So… are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I froze with a can of hairspray in my hand. “What do you mean?”
“Heather.”
“What?”
“Come on.” She shot me an unamused look. “You’ve been acting weird for two days.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You have.” She turned in her chair, ignoring my frustrated groan. “You barely talked during the hike yesterday, and you disappeared right after the rehearsal dinner. And you’ve been walking around looking like somebody kicked your puppy.”
“I’m just tired.”
She scoffed. “Bullshit.”
I sighed. There was no point in pretending. Angela knew me better than anyone in the world, and she could always tell when something was bothering me. Besides, I was tired of keeping everything bottled up.
“Fine,” I said, setting the hairspray on the dresser. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Go on.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly unsure where to begin. “You know Greyson Lynch?”
“The football guy? I heard Jake talking about him the other day, going on and on about the man’s football record. He mentioned that he’s on the island.”
“Well…”
Angela stared at me for a moment before her eyes widened. “You got laid!”
“What?”
“You slept with him! I can tell. You’ve got this tell when you’re thinking about sex. A shifty-eyed thing you do-”
“Angela!”
She cackled. “Don’t be so uptight, sis. I’m happy for you. So, when did this happen?”
I rubbed my forehead. “A few days ago.”
“A few days ago?” Her smile vanished. “And you’re just telling me now? We never keep secrets.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
