Page 88 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“Love you back, T.”
* * *
I don’t remember what time I fell asleep, but I wake up feeling refreshed, despite the amount of champagne we drank last night, both at the dinner and here at the hotel.
Crystal is still sleeping, so I slide from the bed and step into the other room to order room service. The roses from Hunter greet me in the morning light—they truly are stunning—making me smile.
I realize I never heard back from him last night after I thanked him. I check my phone to see if I missed anything.
Nope.
I order coffee and juice, along with some fruit and yogurt. Angela and Maisey will be here soon. When Si arrives in a couple hours with our dresses, it’s bound to get chaotic between getting ready and any last-minute details we may need to take care of. So, I indulge in these last few moments of quiet and solitude. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be a married woman.
A knock on the door startles me from my ruminations, and when I answer, I’m surprised to see that it’s room service already. They set everything up and I pour myself a cup of coffee before I go wake Crystal. She stumbles out of the bedroom before I have a chance. Her hair is a bed-head mess and her eyes barely open.
“Is that coffee I smell?”
I hand her the cup I just poured and point out the cream and sugar.
“You’re a goddess. I think I’m hungover.”
“I feel fine.”
“That’s because you’re running on adrenaline. It will hit you later. You just wait.”
“Maybe.” I smile, feeling smug, because today is going to be an amazing day. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve got mimosas coming in an hour or so. Maybe that will help your head.”
“Thank god. We aren’t as young as we used to be, Tabby. I can’t party like that anymore.”
“Didn’t we fall asleep by eleven o’clock?”
“Exactly,” she says and I laugh.
26
Pax
I wake up on Gregor’s couch in a panic.
“G!”
He pokes his head around the corner from his kitchen. “Yo.” He’s wearing an apron over his t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s white and black with ruffles around the edges and a big bow at the top.
“Nice apron,” I scoff.
“Don’t judge. My niece, Taylor, picked it out for me. It’s my favorite. And, if I’m wearing the apron, it means I’m cooking.”
Breakfast does sound good. And Gregor is a fantastic chef.
Focus, Pax.
“I’ve made a decision—I can’t let Tabs marry Douche Dippycock.”
Gregor nods, a serious look on his face. “Pretty sure that’s happening today, my man.”
“Okay. Okay.” I stand and start to pace his living and dining room scratching my head, still in my t-shirt and boxers from the night before. “Well, I need a plan to stop it!”
“Hmmm, okay.”
