Page 67 of Love to Prove You Wrong

Just as I rounded the corner of the top floor, Justin came out of the groom’s room. He looked just as surprised as I was. Not that I was surprised to run into him here. He was still a guest at the inn, as well as the best man. But seeing him again for the first time since I ran out of Dave’s Diner was shocking to say the least.

“Addy, can we talk?” he asked. “Please?”

Man, did he have to look this good? He was wearing one of the suits we’d bought the night of Claire’s birthday party. He looked like a real gentleman. The suit accentuated his strong features like his broad shoulders and well-formed chest. His hair looked impeccable, and his jaw was freshly shaven. I knew how soft it would feel if I ran my hands over his face, but I couldn’t. That ship had sailed and disappeared over the horizon.

Still, no matter how good he looked, his expression was horrible and reminded me a lot of how I felt. Defeated, disappointed, hurt, confused.

He had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. They only made him look more ruggedly handsome, though.

“I don’t have time,” I said. “I have to check up on the bride and then I’m needed in the kitchen to see if we’re still on schedule.”

I thought I’d be able to stay cool and confident when running into Justin, but in reality, my voice sounded shaky, and my heart leapt into my throat.

He gave me a weak smile and slumped his shoulders. “Of course, I understand.”

I mumbled a thank you and hurried away toward Layla’s room, but Justin called my name again before I got there.

“Yes?” I asked without turning around. I couldn’t deal with facing him right now. If I did, I’d burst into tears.

“Since you won’t be my date to this wedding, Asher has arranged for Ashley to be my partner for the day. This doesn’t change how I feel about you, though. Anyway, I wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t get the wrong idea about me. I’m not interested in Ashley whatsoever.”

I swallowed my tears down. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Justin may have been speaking the truth about not being interested in her, but Ashley would stop at nothing to get Justin where she wanted him. Naked. In bed. With her. A shudder ran through me. I tried to cancel out any thoughts I had of the two of them hooking up and dashed into Layla’s room.

“Addy,” Brianna called out to me.

“Hey, guys,” I said.

Jess jumped to her feet and sprayed some hand sanitizer onto a glass of champagne, then shoved it into my hands. I politely declined. I had to work, and alcoholic beverages wouldn’t help with getting to the end of this day unscathed.

“How are all you lovely bridesmaids doing?” I asked, looking around the room. “And what about you, Layla?”

“I’m doing fantastic, albeit nervous,” Layla said. “I can hardly believe today is the day. Somebody pinch me.”

Ashley turned around, a string of her long hair twisted around a curling iron. “Tell me about it. I get to walk down the aisle with Justin Miller today. Who knows? If I play my cards right, I might walk down the aisle to marry him someday.”

I wished it wouldn’t be considered unprofessional to throw something at her, preferably something hard like a hairbrush. Marry him? Good luck. As long as he was Crocodile Man, he wasn’t marrying anyone.

“Well, do you girls need anything else?” I asked, silently hoping they didn’t. Spending time with Ashley while she gushed about Justin being her date was far from what I needed.

“No, but why don’t you stay for a while?” Stella asked.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m needed in the kitchen.”

Layla waved a hand at me. “Oh, come on, no one will know. If anyone asks, just tell them you were needed here to handle some crisis.”

“I guess five minutes couldn’t hurt,” I said and took a seat on the bed.

The girls continued chatting. They talked about the lingerie Layla had bought and the guys they were hoping to dance with later.

I let my gaze wander around the room. Layla’s dress hung from a velvet hanger, nothing more than the contours visible through the garment bag. Her white lingerie was on the dresser, the tags still on it.

She was one lucky girl, getting married to the man who loved her. The man who wouldn’t blow her off in favor of some stupid superhero. I balled my hands into fists as I thought about Justin breaking the news about his job offer.

Marissa, the makeup artist, put her brush down and smiled. “There, all done.”

She’d turned Layla into a gorgeous bride, and I felt my eyes water up. I dabbed them with a tissue, pretending there was something in my eye. If I already felt this emotional now, what kind of sobbing mess would the ceremony turn me into?

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