Page 68 of Bad at Love

“Liar. Tell me.”

“Thirteen hundred.”

“For the weekend? That’s not—”

“A night.”

“What?” I bark. “That’s insane!”

“It’s really not. Stop worrying about it and go to sleep. It’s going to be light out soon.”

I huff out a sigh and get comfortable, which isn’t difficult. This bed is the softest thing I have ever laid on, and it smells so fresh.

“Thank you for taking me,” I mutter, half asleep.

“I’m glad you came,” he responds, which makes me smile.

Then I fall asleep.

“What time are we meeting your friends?” I ask, stabbing a chunk of scrambled eggs.

“I’m not sure. They haven’t gotten back to me yet.”

“Are there others coming to the wedding?”

“Yes, but only a few. They’re keeping it small.”

“Oh—I hope I’m not imposing.”

Small weddings are usually done that way on purpose. They don’t know me, and I don’t want to ruin their intimate ceremony. The last thing I need is to be the guy who oversteps…

“They said it was fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

I eat the rest of my breakfast, not sure if I enjoy this Portuguese sausage. It’s good, but a little too spicy for me.

“How small is small?” I ask, picking up my mug of coffee.

Storm leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and making the muscles in his forearms bulge. He gives me a bright smile. “Can you ever let anything go?”

“No.”

He chuckles. “They invited five people.”

“That is rather small.” I frown, staring at Storm.

“I promise it isn’t an issue. And they’re really cool.” His phone vibrates in a rhythmic pattern, and he answers the call. “Hey, I was just talking about you. Having breakfast. Yeah, of course. Yes, he is. That’ll work. Okay, see you then.”

I raise a brow, waiting for him to tell me what that was all about. He holds my gaze without saying anything for far too long, and I know he’s doing it on purpose.

“They want us to meet them for lunch at 12:30. They’re still in bed.”

“What time is the ceremony?”

“We have to be there at six.”

---