“Fine, fine,” she concedes. “I’ll let it go…for now.” She pushes her curly blonde locks to the side. “Want to grab lunch today?”
“Can’t.” I sigh. “I have a huge project due tomorrow so I’m not taking a lunch break today. Maybe Thursday? I wanna see that rock in person!”
“It’s a date.”
“Hey, you’re done dating! You’re all mine now,” AJ says, now sounding closer than he did before.
Allie screams with delight and the phone shakes and goes black, yet all sounds are still coming through.
“Oh my gosh, AJ! Stop it!”
He growls and says something I can’t quite make out.
There’s moaning.
Then there’s a gagging noise. That one is coming from me.
I quickly press the red button to end the call, shaking my head at my best friend.
Allie and AJ arefinallygetting married.
And that means…
Oh, shit.
The sound of the doorbell chiming echoes off the walls, stopping all bad and horrible thoughts I was about to have about me being Allie’s maid of honor and who AJ’s best man will probably be.
I groan as I’m forced to pull myself from my cozy bed.
I can’t tell if my displeasure is because I have to leave the warmth of my moose-printed quilt way before I wanted to, or if it’s due to the thoughts trying to barrel through my mind.
Probably a little of both.
“What is with people being early this morning? First Allie, now Monty. Guess we’re going to continue that torment from yesterday, huh, universe?”
I snatch my robe off the handle of my closet door and wrap it around myself just as the doorbell goes off again.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Monty!”
I shake my head at my twin sister. Of course she’s early. It’s Monty, the proverbial good girl. She’ll never not be early.
For twins, we couldn’t be more opposite, and I don’t just mean in our looks.
Where Monty has long, beautiful red locks, I have choppy dark hair. She’d give Casper a run for his money in paleness, and I have a natural olive tone.
Monty is the epitome of a goody two-shoes. She doesn’t cuss, she’s never late, and shealwaysfollows the rules.
I’m…well, let’s just say I’m a whole hell of a lot more free-spirited than she is. I only have one life, and I’m not living it by anyone else’s rules.
I still wonder if the hospital switched one of us at birth, but despite all our differences, we’re extremely close. When she moved out a few months ago to live with her super sexy boyfriend—who also happens to have a kiddo—we vowed to still have breakfast together at least twice a week.
Today is Wednesday, which means pancakes and peanut butter, and she’s also here to give me a ride to work because my car is still at Smart Shoppe.
I hurry down the hall and through the living room, twisting the lock before padding back toward the kitchen without even glancing at my chronically punctual sister.
“You’re early,” I say as she pushes open the door. “No talkie. Need coffee. It’s already been an eventful morning and I need caffeine.”
“Expecting someone at this hour?”
