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We all laugh. "I’m really happy to see you here. This way, I can personally thank you for the gorgeous wedding dress—"
"—And for the dresses of the bridesmaids. At least someone realizes we are bridesbabes who don’t need to be dressed in drab colors, or uniformly, for that matter." Zara tosses her mane. Her thick, dark hair seems to have a life of its own as it flows and crackles about her shoulders. I touch my own hair, making sure it’s in place. Z catches sight of my action and frowns.
I shake my head in an almost imperceptible gesture. Her gaze narrows.
I look away, then squeeze Karma’s hand. "Thank you, anyway," I say softly. "Couldn’t have done this without you. Without" —I glance about the faces of the women who mean so much to me— "all of you."
"Aww!" Summer’s chin wobbles. "You’re making me all emotional. And it’s not just because of the pregnancy hormones."
Karma blinks away what looks like tears. Amelie sniffs. Even Zara looks moved. Emotions coil up in my chest. My throat closes.Oh, no, no, no I’m not going to cry.I clap my hands. "Time to sample the cookies."
"And drinks." Zara walks over to the jugs of margarita placed next to a bowl of jellybeans shaped as—you guessed it, willies. To her credit, she doesn’t even glance at them as she reaches for the pitcher of slushy liquid. "There’s alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions of this cocktail. I know which one I’m drinking."
* * *
"I shouldn’t be drinking so much." I stare down into the depths of my double-bowl glass. The rim is so massive, I could be holding a soup bowl between my fingers. Also, most of the contents of said glass are now in my stomach.
"Nonsense." Zara raises the jug and tops me up… for the fifth, or is it sixth, time. I’ve lost count, to be honest. Sometime after the second glass, a warmth began to spread through my veins. After the fourth, I remember giggling a lot as Amelie, Summer and Karma had recounted for Zara’s benefit the stories of how they’d met and tamed their respective alphaholes. Zara scoffed and said the arsehole—she pointedly refused to use the world alphahole—who’d tame her has yet to be born. At which point, the three women looked at each other and shared a secret smile.
She demanded they tell her what that look meant.
And the three women had insisted it was merely a shared sentiment about how they’d each been sure they’d never meet their match and yet, they had… in said alphaholes.
To which I had raised a finger—which had seemed suspiciously like two fingers in my line of sight but which I had ignored—and told them I was with Zara. It might have worked for them but no snarly, mean-mouthed, grumpy-faced, handsome as Lucifer a-hole was going to put me in my place.
The three had glanced between me and Z then snickered to themselves. They hadn’t pushed the matter further but I had this strange feeling they were going to have the last laugh at our expense.
Shortly afterward, Michael and Sinclair came by to pick up Karma and Summer. Considering they’re pregnant, we couldn’t stop their early escape. Amelie had stayed on and told me how she was thrilled to be here and help with the arrangements. She also mentioned how her catering business was booming thanks to her having pitched in with the quick-turnaround weddings of the rest of the Seven. Which is positive right? Perhaps this harebrained scheme of mine will have the intended effect and benefit my wedding planning business too?
When Zara tops up her own drink and mine yet again, I don’t even pretend to resist. I hold up the glass and rise to my feet, sway, then find my balance.
"To girlfriends who always know what to say." I try to smile but my face has gone numb. Given the ordeal I have to face tomorrow, I welcome it. Hopefully, my thoughts will also be frozen so I don’t have to relive the sensations of his skin on mine, his rough fingers inside me, his thick cock swelling until it felt like he was going to carve me in half.
"Isla?"
I blink and turn to find Zara and Amelie watching me closely.
"Uh, sorry, it’s been a long day. What did you say?"
Zara arches her eyebrows but doesn’t question me, thank god. She raises her glass and says, "I was raising a toast to hoes before husbands."
"I’d say they’re both equally important." Amelia grins, her eyes over-bright, no doubt, because of all the alcohol she’s consumed. "I’ll toast to sex, lots and lots of sex, and enough orgasms to keep you adrift in happy hormones so you always look on the bride side."
Both Zara and I groan.
Amelie hiccoughs, then begins to giggle helplessly.
"I think this is my cue to take you to bed, Buttercup." Weston prowls into the room and scoops the still giggling Amelie into his arms. "Ladies," he says and dips his head in our direction before walking out.
The two of us watch them leave, then Zara blows out a breath. "I hate to say it, but being around you guys might convert me yet."
"You mean, you’d actually think of a relationship with you-know-who?" I waggle my eyebrows at her.
"I have no idea who you’re talking about." She buries her nose in her drink.
I lower my voice. "Aww, come on, Z, the way you and Hunter go at each other—"
"Is because we hate each other," she snaps.
