BLAKE: Not total, each!
BLAKE: I don’t even think she knows all the people in our wedding - so fucking many.
BLAKE: Shit, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you when you get here.
I need to quit focusing on myself. I don’t matter right now. Blake is stressed, and I need to be a better friend.
And stop thinking about Bristol’s ass in those jeans.
This weekend is about Blake. And only Blake.
And his fiancée, Taylor.
Right, and her.
Bristol is still texting in my periphery. I might be miffed if Blake keeps talking to her and not me.
That’s stupid. It’s not a competition.
It might be.
She laughs at her screen and responds, fingers flying. Then she glances at me, and back at her phone before typing something else.
Is she talking about me?
I lean toward her, trying to see the name at the top of the screen.
“Do you mind?” She scowls.
“Not at all.”
Fuck this.
I need to focus on getting in the right mindset for this weekend. I’m here for Blake. And whatever my best friend wants, I’m going to make sure he gets.Even if that means spending the entire time trying to get Bristol to like me again.
bristol - at the same time
How did this happen?
Ican’tbe in the back of a cab with Wyatt Reed. And definitely not on our way to the same hotel where we’re both participating in this stupid bachelor/bachelorette weekend.
Oh stop! You knew he’d be here.Blanche reminds me.He’s your brother’s best friend. And best man. Admit it, part of you hoped he’d be here.
I hate Blanche.
Some people have a voice of reason in their heads. Others have voices of rebellion. I’m almost twenty-three years old and can’t figure out which side of the fence Blanche sits on. She just seems opportunistic, depending on her mood.
I pull my phone out of my purse to text my brother.
ME: You didn’t tell me Wyatt was coming this weekend.
It takes him a moment to respond.
BLAKE: He’s my best friend. Of course, he’d come.
ME: A heads-up would have been nice. So I could prepare myself for having to deal with him.
I wait. The three dots appear and disappear until he finally responds.
