Goddamn this girl and how well she knows me. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
“One more chance to tell me the truth,” she singsongs as she adjusts the tie of her white silk robe. “Or else I’m gonna tell my mama that you disappeared last night and probably got into some trouble.”
Who will, in turn, tellmymama. And if that happens, I can expect to receive endless disapproving looks for the rest of my life. Worse still, if she and my dad discover I got hitched…Oh God, I’ll be in such deep shit that I’ll never find my way out. That news leaking absolutelycannothappen—at least not until I figure out a way to gently break it to them.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I disappeared with Thomas and got intoa lotof trouble.”
Janelle’s face lights up like the Fourth of July. “Okay, now! Looks like Stella got her groove back!”
I did, for a little while at least. Then it all went to shit.
“I was hoping you were with him,” she goes on. “He’s hot as hell. Great for a one-night fling, which is exactly what you needed.”
I flinch, and my anxiety has me wondering if it’s possible for your stomach to rip its way out of your body. My cousin, unfortunately, doesn’t miss my reaction, and I’m not quick enough to try to hide it.
“Something’s definitely up,” she says, humor gone. “Spill it, Stella.”
I shake my head, my throat tightening around the things I want to tell her. She and I don’t typically keep secrets from each other. “We can talk another time,” I make myself say. “This day is about you, not me.”
“Get outta here with that mess.” She drops the yoga pose and turns all the way toward me. “I want to know what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”
The full force of her attention has me ready to spill, just like it always has. She looks ridiculous with her hair up in rollers, her makeup almost done except for lashes and lipstick, but none of that can disguise the intensity of her stare.
“I did something bad, Elle,” I eventually mumble.
She doesn’t blink. “Did you shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die?”
“Right state, wrong city,” I volley back, but her deadpan joke has my shoulders loosening a little. Nothing I say will faze her past some surprise at first. “And no. Not murder. A differentMword.”
She perks up. “ ‘Manslaughter’?”
“You’re such a lawyer.” I shake my head, gearing up to confess. “Not manslaughter. Try…‘marriage.’ ”
Her eyes lock on mine, and a series of emotions flashthrough them. Surprise, as expected, comes first. With a blink, it’s replaced by acceptance. And then, horrifyingly, it’s pure, unadulterated glee.
“You married Thomas Maxwell-fucking-Brownlast night,” she says so loudly I’d be surprised if the whole Vegas Strip hasn’t heard her.
I violently shush her, hands flying up to cover her mouth before I think better of it, not wanting to ruin her makeup. Instead, they flutter dramatically around her face. “Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “I don’t need the whole world finding out about this. No one else knows yet.”
“This issogood,” she gushes, drawing her knees up to her chest so she can kick her feet in the air. “I knew y’all hit it off, but not so well that you felt compelled to marry the man!”
“I didn’t know either.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to ease the lingering throb of my headache. “It was a drunken mistake.”
Her grin is far too wide. “Hey, at least we’ll have the same anniversary.”
“I amnotstaying married to him.”
My vehemence turns her amusement down a few notches. “Oh, honey.” She slips her arm through mine, tugging me closer. “Tell me everything.”
So I do. I let it pour out, getting choked up when I mention Mika’s news about Étienne and laughing when I describe Thomas’s impressive switch-up from polite smiler to dirty talker. By the time I’m done sharing this morning’s awkward conversation, Aunt Caroline is seconds from dragging us back inside because we’ve been out here for so long.
“Janelle, get your behind in here and let this poor woman finish your hair,” she complains. “You’re never too old for me to bend you over my knee, remember that. I don’t care that it’s your wedding day.”
“I bet you wanted Thomas to bend you over his knee,” Janelle says out of the corner of her mouth, just for me to hear, as she springs to her feet.
I nearly choke as I struggle to stand as well. When Aunt Caroline ducks back inside, Janelle turns to me one last time.
“We’re not done talking about this.” It’s not a promise but a threat. “Once I say ‘I do,’ you’re going to tell me what you plan to do about this.”
