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Typical. I rush to gather my things and walk over to the counter.

* * *

“Giveit up for the bride and groom!”

The crowd cheers as the lucky couple walks in, Debra’s white dress a mass of ruffles and fabrics. Better her than me. I take another sip of my wine and do my best to smile and play along. I hate weddings. Everything about them screams fake happiness. Even the married couples sitting at the tables wear fake smiles. But you can see it in their eyes. They’re desperate to hide the truth of what awaits the newlyweds after today. The sadness. The frustration. The silent cry for help because they no longer know who they are as individuals. From here on out, they’re just Mr. and Mrs.

That was me once. So naïve and in love. Glad that’s over with.

The cool night air blows through the palm trees as everyone continues to cheer, and I check my phone for the fifteenth time. My brother was supposed to be here by now. Is this how things are going to be when I move in next week? The mere thought of moving makes me want to squeal, my smile barely containing my excitement. Finally, after an eternity of textbooks and late-night binges, I finally have my Masters. Not that I got a fancy party like this to celebrate. I guess those are only reserved for when you throw your life way.

It didn’t take my brother much convincing for me to agree living out in a big city. When you’re in the real estate business, a city is practically a beacon. And I’m ready to take it head on. If only he’d pick up his phone. The movers had taken the last of my things from my apartment before I left, so I want to make sure they got there okay. Maybe one more text will get his attention.

“Woohoo.”

I snap my head up from my screen, the sound of a half-hearted cheer piquing my interest. Is there someone else around that isn’t slathered in the adrenaline of marriage? I down my glass and take another from a passing tray as I scan the crowd. He stands a few high tops away, eyes glued to his phone as he half-heartedly waves his hand in the air. The same way he looked earlier when he slammed into me in the lobby. I’m irritated and intrigued at the same time.

Of course, the only other cynic of love at this stupid reception is Mr. Phone Zombie. I watch him over the rim of my glass as he glances up and looks around. He’s tall, hands tugging at his tie with a scowl on his angular face. He’s looking for an escape. Just like me.

Maybe I should go up to him. I mean, we’re on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. And there’s no use in letting a hot guy go to waste, right? I take another sip of liquid courage before walking over. This weekend is going to be different. No matter what.

CHAPTER3

Johnathan

I tug at my tie,uncomfortable as ever. I can’t take this much longer. Every second standing here only reminds me of my own caged nightmare. All the white ruffles and flowers send shivers down my spine. I want to scream at the groom dancing with his new wife to run and never look back. But by the look of the woman in white, she doesn’t seem like too much of a tight ass. Unlike my own vulture in disguise who doesn’t even bother picking up when I call her. I sigh, amused at my own thoughts. So much for getting away from it all.

I check my phone again, hopeful that a message from Jax has arrived. But it hasn’t. He called me last night to complain about his cancelled flight, but I thought he’d at least make it to the reception. Unless he hooked up with a Caribbean babe the second he walked off the plane. Not that I’d be surprised.

I look again. Still, no message. I’m going to kill him. I look around at the guests and tug at my tie a second time. I know Jax said to stay for the free cocktails, but this is too much to bear alone. I doubt anyone will notice if I leave before dinner.

“Are you always this enthused?”

I’m brought back to reality by a dark-haired beauty dressed in red. Even in the dim candlelight I can tell her cheeks are flushed. Her dress hugs her curved body in all the right places, that plunging neckline beckoning me to stay. I guess a few more minutes won’t hurt.

“Weddings aren’t really my thing,” I say, sliding my phone in my back pocket.

“Believe me. This is the last place I want to be right now.”

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?” I muse.

She leans forward, tits pushed up again the high top. “I’m here for the free food like everyone else.”

“And booze. Don’t forget booze.”

Her golden eyes glaze me over with a nod. “I’m glad we have a chance to properly meet.”

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” I extend my hand her way. “I think I would’ve remembered someone as beautiful as you.”

“I’m the one you nearly knocked down in the lobby.” She shakes my hand with the force of a man. The vague memory of bumping into someone resurfaces. After living in the city, small bumps in public are so common they’re almost inevitable. I guess this woman doesn’t feel the same way.

“Ah.” I clear my throat. “Well, I do remember that. Sorry.”

“I think I’ll be able to forgive you if you continue to keep me company.”

Her hand falls back around the stem of her glass, and I watch her lips wrap around the rim.

“I welcome the company.” I smile. “Not many people here seem too excited to talk to the family friend.”

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