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All right, so years was an exaggeration. I was hardly sworn to celibacy, but just because I’d had sex at various points over the past few years didn’t mean it was anything to write home about.
If this morning was anything to go by, that trend was about to change.
And thank God for that.
“Do I have to give you another piggyback?” William asked, looking at my feet.
“No. These are more comfortable than the ones I wore last night.”
“So why didn’t you wear them last night instead of the torture devices you chose?”
“Because they didn’t match my outfit.”
He ran his gaze over my body, then shook his head. “They’re the same colour.”
“No.”
“They’re both black shoes, Cinderella.”
“And totally different black shoes. These are strappy heels, the ones last night were closed toe, which is why they hurt more. They squished my poor little toes.”
“So why did you wear them?”
“Because they matched my dress better. I just said that.” I rolled my eyes.
“But how?”
“They just did, okay? Take my word for it and trust me.”
He shook his head again. “Thank God I only need one pair of fancy shoes.”
“Technically, you need more, depending on your suit colour. You can’t wear black shoes with a navy suit.”
“Grace, as much as I appreciate the fashion lesson, can we do it tomorrow? I’m tired.”
“You started it.”
“I—fine. I’m also finishing it.” He laughed and pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door to our room. “Boy, am I glad that’s over. Freya might chill now.”
“She looked pretty chill when we said goodnight to her.”
“That’s because she’s drunk,” he replied dryly. “She’s always chill when she’s drunk.”
“William, your sister got married in Hunter wellington boots. She’s not nearly as uptight as you think she is.”
“Only because you talked her off whatever ledge she was going to jump off where her shoes were concerned.”
I closed the door behind me with a roll of my eyes. “You’re so dramatic. She wasn’t nearly that bad. Yes, she was upset, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and one of her friends brought her an extra pair of heels for the reception anyway.”
“Huh. I wondered why she looked taller in the photos.” He tossed the keys on the side table and reached up to loosen his tie. “And why she didn’t squeak on the dancefloor.”
I bent down to pull off my heels, fighting back a laugh. “That squeak halfway down the aisle did kill the tension, didn’t it?”
“Better than her farting, I suppose.”
“Oh, my God.” I undid the buckle on my other shoe and pulled it off, dropping it down next to the other one. “Oh, that’s nice.”
He looked at my feet. “Of all the things you could take off right now, you choose the shoes.”
