Page 82 of Selfless

“Why Vicki, I’m surprised you’re here. You know after you made a fool of yourself on Ry’s boat.” I cover my mouth to keep from snickering.

“How is Ryder doing anyway?” she asks.

I roll my eyes. “He’s great. Ashlyn and he just moved in together,” she announces proudly.

“What?” Vicki squeals, and I place a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Bitch!

“Yep. He’s in love.”

“I don’t think he’s over me,” Vicki snaps. “That’s just my opinion, though,” she adds.

“Well, fact and opinion are two very different things, Vicki. And your opinion holds no value.”

Vicki gasps. “And how’s your love life, Becca? You ever find out if your mother was paying Jaycent to fuck you like Conner?”

I unlock my door and shove it open. They both turn to face me. Becca’s eyes are narrowed, and Vicki’s are large in surprise. “I don’t see how any part of Becca’s life is any of your business,” I say and make my way over to the sink to wash my hands, placing my drink on the countertop.

Vicki laughs, but it sounds more nervous than genuine. “Well, if it isn’t the woman playing Cinderella,” she says, placing her hands on her purple dress. Her eyes drop to my glass of champagne, and she sighs. “You shouldn’t be drinking, honey.”

I smile at her in the mirror. Bitch! And choose to ignore her comment about my drink. “So that would make you the ugly step sister?”

Becca laughs, and Vicki fists her hands down by her side. “Listen, bitch …”

“No, you listen,” I say, taking a step toward her. “Stay the hell away from me and Becca,” I warn her.

“Not gonna warn me to stay away from Ryder?” she asks, arching a dark brow.

“I don’t need to warn you there. We all already know he won’t let you get close.” Then I walk past her and grab Becca’s arm, reaching to open the door when she speaks. “And Bradley? What about him?”

I turn and narrow my eyes at her. “How do you know about him …?”

She gives me a smile and pushes her hip out crossing her arms over her chest with satisfaction. “I know more than you know, honey.”

I grind my teeth and want to say more, but I know women like her. She could go on and on, and I don’t want to make a scene here at their cousin’s wedding. Instead, I hold my head up high and spin around, yanking Becca out of the bathroom.

“I need to pee, though,” she whispers to me.

“Choose another bathroom. This mansion has like fifty,” I snap.

**

The wedding went as I thought it would. It was beautiful, the bride cried, and the groom choked on his vows. It was like a storybook wedding with the red roses and sunset with the smell of the ocean and the crashing of the waves.

The wedding just ended, and now we sit under a large white tent as the sun continues to set. They kept the reception on location due to the firework show that will be happening soon. I know I’m exaggerating, but the tent looks the length of a football field. People pile underneath it at round tables with white tablecloths and eight red roses in a crystal vase. A soft white material covers the chairs, and a red ribbon is tied around them with a bow hanging off the back of each chair.

The bride and groom sit at the front of the tent with their wedding party. She has twenty bridesmaids, Vicki being one of them. I lean over to whisper in Becca’s ear. “How do you have that many bridesmaids? I don’t even like twenty people,” I state.

She snorts, her white wine flying out of her mouth as she cups her chin, and I laugh. “Me either.” She wipes her chin. “How would you do it?”

“My wedding?” She nods. “I would want something small. Secluded. Just me and my groom with our parents and closest friends.” I smile. “I picture something on the beach with no shoes. Just our toes in the sand as the sun sets.” I tilt my head to the side. “I guess that’s kinda like this, just on a much smaller scale.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she says, smiling.

Ryder snorts from beside me. He lifts his glass and takes a big gulp of the amber liquid.

Becca taps my leg softly, and she gives me a smile. I look ahead and stare at nothing really. What the hell was that? I don’t want him to think that that’s what I do, sit around all day and picture us getting married.

“Here are my children,” Ryder and Becca’s mother says as she comes up to our table.

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