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She holds out the bag of chips, and I take a few. I’m hungry, too.
“You were trying to help me, and now you’re missing it all.” Her voice is a lament. “I’m so sorry, Drew. It’s like I lived up to all the times you called me a brat growing up.”
I freeze, a chip halfway to my mouth. “I said that directly to you?”
“Pretty much every time you came over.” She sips her drink, watching me over the rim. “You and Garrett hated it when I followed you around.”
“We were punk kids, for sure.” I toss the chip in my mouth.
She reaches up to touch her hair, and my gaze drops to the strapless dress, wondering if it’s going to hold. The bodice is definitely drooping from being drenched.
That’s a temptation I don’t need. I walk to the door and open it to peer out. The rain is coming down in sheets, and a cold wind races through the room. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees, easy. I peer through the trees to see if I will be able to tell when the cars start to leave after the reception. It’s impossible to know right now with the storm so intense.
I shove the door closed again. The shed is noticeably colder. I shouldn’t have opened it.
When I turn around, Ensley is huddled in a shivering ball as if all her strength has finally run out.
Damn.
Chapter 3
ENSLEY
It’s too much. Too, too much.
I’m cold. My hair is ruined. I’m pretty sure the boy I crushed on as a kid just saw my boobs.
The Dorito bag crunches against my belly as I crumple over, overcome with shakes. The thought of wrecking the only thing I’ve had to eat today makes tears squeeze out of my eyes.
I’m crying over Doritos.
Drew stands by the door like a gorgeous gargoyle. I can’t make out his face. My fake eyelashes are coming off. I tug at them and let them fall to the floor. I’m a mess. A drowned-rat, mascara-running, strapless-dress-losing disaster.
And it’s my own fault.
I had to be dramatic. Really sock it to Felicia.
Well, she showed me. I’m sure she changed into her backup dress and my little act did nothing. She probably forced her arm around Ronnie’s and marched her down the aisle. And she’s sitting in the middle of the family table at the reception right now, bossing the servers around and drinking champagne in a warm, dry room.
Ronnie probably wonders why I didn’t return after my ejection to the hall. Felicia most certainly made up a lie. Ronnie must assumeI became yet another lost cause at the wedding, surrendering to her stepmother’s will like all the other details that got changed.
I hiccup-cough, my nose running so badly I have no choice but to wipe my hand beneath it like a sniveling kid.
Drew hasn’t moved from the door. I’m sure he sees me as a weak-kneed ninny who can’t handle a storm. I’ll forever be a snotty brat to his glorious king-of-the-world football star.
I extricate the bag of Doritos from where my belly crushed it and set it beside me on the cot. My cup of bourbon is on the floor, so I reach for it, slamming the whole thing like Drew did.
The fire rips down my throat and makes me sit straight up, like my spine has turned to steel.
“Whoa!” I see stars, then rivers of lava. Then my stomach feels warm and good. Oh yes, that shocked me right out of my pity party. I want more.
Drew steps forward, a crease of concern on his brow. “You okay?”
I hold out the cup. “I need another one of those.”
His jaw ticks, his eyes on my chest.
“My eyes are up here,” I tell him.
