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Blake looked down at it and smiled, fingering it. "Right. Except for that." She looked back up at me. "I promise I won't bug you. I can take care of myself. And I won't ever make another masturbation joke—I swear."
"Fine." The word escaped before I had the chance to bite it back.
She was ready in five minutes. She wore a plain gray tank top and black running shorts. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she wore no makeup. Yet she still managed to look stunning. She was so pretty in her natural state, it almost hurt to look at her. "Ready?" she asked, all smiles.
I nodded and tried not to stare. She'd already caught me whacking off this morning and had probably guessed that it was her I'd been thinking of. Enough was enough.
Much to my surprise, Blake knew her way around the gym. It almost annoyed me that she never asked me for help or looked my way even once. She ran on the treadmill. She did a weight circuit. She smiled and chatted with every man who spoke to her, but I noticed that she flashed her ring to all of them and mentioned that she was getting ready for her wedding.
I felt wildly, stupidly proud.
"See?" she asked when we got back into the elevator. Her body was glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, which somehow managed to make her look even more attractive. "I didn't bug you once, did I?"
"No," I admitted. For some reason, that really bugged me.
Chapter Ten
Blake
The dresses were absolutely stunning. Mina, the small, elegant woman who was handling our appointment at the Vera Wang Bridal Salon, beamed at me as she showed me the racks. "Wow," was all I could manage to say. We were the only customers in the exclusive shop, which was open by appointment only.
"I agree. They're all wow," she said. "Is there a particular style you're interested in?"
"Honey?" I asked Lucas, who was sitting by the window, tapping furiously into his smartphone.
"Yes, honey?" he asked, never looking up. I was starting to feel as if we were already an old married couple.
"Is there a certain style of dress you like?"
"Nothing poufy," he said, still typing. "I want to see that hot body of yours."
"Men," Mina said, conspiratorially.
"I heard that," Lucas called.
"She kind of has a point, honey," I called back. "But don't mind me; I'm just shopping for a wedding dress. A slutty one."
Lucas finally looked up from his phone. "I didn't say slutty, babe." He sounded nagged. "I just don't want your gorgeous figure hidden inside a poufy dress. Is that okay?"
I melted toward him a little, in spite of myself. "Of course, babe." I wanted to wink at him, but I held back.
Mina and I assembled about ten dresses, and she arranged them in a fitting room for me in the back of the store. Lucas stood up, stretched, and started to follow me toward the back.
"What are you doing?" I asked, aghast.
He looked baffled. "Don't you want me to see the dresses?"
"No, I do not," I said. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the ceremony. I got your instructions: no pouf. I'll deliver."
Lucas arched an eyebrow at me. "You're really worried about bad luck?"
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I just want everything to be perfect."
"Are you superstitious?" Lucas asked.
"I'm totally superstitious," I admitted.
He put his hand over his heart and grinned at me. "Well, I am humbled that you care enough about our wedding to be superstitious about it."
