Page 23 of Insta-Hubby
“Anything except white,” I say. “You don’t want to commit the ultimate sin and wear white to a wedding.”
“Unless you’re the bride,” he says smartly.
“Whose wedding is this, anyway? I don’t think you ever told me.”
“It’s my cousin’s wedding,” he says. “He’s actually part of the company too. It’s my dad’s brother’s kid. He’s a nice guy too. I think you’ll like him.”
“And what if I don’t?” I ask. “Do I have to pretend to like him?”
“No way,” he replies. “If you don’t like him, you can roll your eyes when his best man gives him his toast.”
“How about I just play it cool instead?”
“That’s another way to play it,” he says.
Liam
Oh, she is a fucking sight for sore eyes.
“You went with blackandblue,” I say, taking in the sight of the girl in front of me.
I’m picking her up at her small apartment on the Lower East Side. The wedding is at Battery Park’s most opulent hotel, and she will fitrightin.
Because even more than appearances, these people like things that are pretty and perfect. And those are two things Anna most certainly is.
“I wanted to match you,” she says, turning around in her dress. “You said you had a tux with a blue tie. I liked how you decided to make it a little bit personalized.”
“Well, I don’t like looking like a total penguin.”
“Just a penguin with a blue tie then?”
I laugh as she walks toward me, all curves and a smile.
“Something like that.”
The dress is formed to her curves like it was absolutely made for her, even though I know it’s probably right off the rack. That’s how perfect she is. When designers make dresses, they should use her exact measurements for their garments.
Every girl is perfect the way she is, butsheis the girl who makes me harder than a diamond. She is the girl who makes my heart set ablaze. She is the girl I want to make smile over and over and over.
The dress is perfection on her, and why would it be any less than absolute perfection? She is perfection, so everything she touches is perfect. The bottom portion is dark, inky navy blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless, starry night up in the country, and it conforms to her hips like she’s a damn goddess and then sweeps out into a little skirt at the knees. The top is black and has a halter top that shows off her pretty shoulders, and the back is cut low and covered with delicate lace.
“Anna,” I say, slipping her hands into mine, “you are beautiful.”
She looks up at me and says nothing, but her eyes tell a different story.
There is a pain hidden there, somewhere behind the thick black eyelashes and the light brown irises flecked with gold. What is it behind her eyes? Do I dare to ask?
“Thank you,” she says sweetly. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“Is everything alright?” I ask, pulling her closer to me. “We can blow off the wedding. We can just tell them one of us is sick and we want to stay in and watch TV tonight.”
“We can’t blow off the wedding,” she says, “the whole reason I’m with you tonight is so that you can show me off to your family.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, but when she smiles up at me, I know she’s full of it.
“That’s not why, Anna. I think we both know that.”
She gets closer to me and I take her face in my hand, leaning down to kiss her delectable, candy-red lips.
