Page 131 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
The four of us had already been in the swanky Beverly Hills salon for hours. Nico and I had finally chosen a wedding date—August fifteenth, the one-year anniversary of the day we’d met—and the preparations were quickly moving forward. It had been a month since Bad Habit’s wildly successful EuroTrash tour had ended and we’d returned home to LA, and those weeks had been the happiest of my life.
Today excepted. I’d never been a clotheshorse, and I’d guessed—correctly—that finding a wedding dress I could stand, sit, eat, and dance in, while simultaneously flattering my figure, would be like the quest for the holy grail. On top of that, the guest list had somehow swelled to close to four hundred people. I’d already floated the idea of eloping to Vegas to Nico, who gave me a look I correctly interpreted as “over my dead body.” He had his heart set on a grand, romantic, fairy-tale white wedding at the Hotel Bel-Air, complete with a horse-drawn carriage for my arrival, an orchestra to serenade us as we said our vows, and a dove release at the end of the ceremony.
I thought his enthusiasm was adorable. He was even interviewing photographers and pastry chefs himself, determined to make sure every detail was perfect.
I was happy to let him go crazy with the planning, but I’d put my foot down about the horse-drawn carriage. It was way too Disney princess for my taste. We’d compromised on a stretch limo. That way I could arrive with my three bridesmaids in style; Kenji was already obsessing over how he was going to accessorize his outfit to coordinate with the gorgeous sage-green gowns Chloe and Grace would wear. I had a feeling he might end up rocking one of those gowns himself.
Now if only I could find a wedding dress that didn’t pinch, pucker, or require me to hold my breath for eight hours, we’d all be good.
Guzzling the remainder of Grace’s champagne, I wondered if Juicy Couture made wedding attire. Getting married in velour sweatpants was starting to sound like a fabulous idea.
Kenji’s cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, then answered it with a shout. “No! Absolutely not! It’s bad luck!”
Chloe, Grace, and I shared a look.
Kenji listened for a moment. He glanced in my direction. Finally, looking resigned, he sighed. “You’re right outside, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” said a voice I recognized from just beyond the doorway to the dressing room. Holding his cell phone to his ear, Nico peeked around the corner, caught sight of me, and broke into a huge grin.
“Ah, yes, the relentless stalker strikes again,” said Grace, rolling her eyes.
Chloe smiled. “I’m actually surprised it took him this long.” She said to Nico, “That was, like, three hours Kat was out of your sight. Were you already having withdrawals?”
Sliding his phone into his back pocket, Nico stepped into the room. His gaze swept over me. His cocky grin softened to a tender smile. “Can you blame me? Look at her. This woman’s picture is next to the word ‘beauty’ in the dictionary. I still can’t believe I get to wake up next to her every day.”
“Sweet talker.” I smiled back at him.
He murmured, “God’s honest truth, baby. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Chloe sighed in happiness. Grace rolled her eyes again and took another swig of her champagne. Kenji took the opportunity to swat Nico on the arm and chastise him for intruding on the sacred female ritual of wedding dress shopping.
“You’re here, brother. Pretty sure your parts don’t qualify you as a female.” Nico strolled over to me. I held out a hand and he kissed it, then laid a swift, potent kiss on my lips.
“My parts, as you so eloquently put it, have absolutely nothing to do with anything. You should know well enough by now that Kenji will not be defined by something so limiting as gender stereotypes. We refuse to be shoved into such a dreary conventional box.”
I squeezed Nico’s hand. “Uh-oh. Referring to himself in the third person and the royal ‘we.’ You’ve really pissed him off now, sweetie.”
Nico chuckled. Before anyone could say another word, there was a grumbling noise from the next room, followed by a loud, irritated voice. “No, I don’t want a glass of fucking champagne! And eat a hamburger, woman, a stiff breeze could blow you away.”
Grimacing, Chloe looked at Nico. “Great. You brought Prince Charming with you.”
“Yeah, well, Prince Charming has agreed to be my best man, so I thought it would be a good idea if you girls and A.J. got to know each other better.”
“The best man? He’s going to be in the wedding?” Distressed, Chloe looked to me.
Nico and I had only just agreed yesterday, after a long discussion, that A.J. would be the best man. I hadn’t managed yet to bring it up to my bridesmaids. I had my doubts about him, but the entire time the band was on tour, he’d been nothing but polite to me, if distant. Nico had made it clear that I had the final word, but if A.J. was his choice, I didn’t feel it was right to object simply because we’d had one strange encounter at Avery’s funeral, a day that everyone had been out of sorts. And I’d made Nico promise to talk to him about being nicer to Chloe.
My fingers were crossed that A.J. could play nice. Judging by his current mood, I was having my doubts.
“You don’t have to walk down the aisle with him, Chloe.”
Grace said, “I guess that honor’s reserved for me, then.” She didn’t sound particularly concerned. I knew she could handle him.
“Well, you can bet he’s not going to want to walk down the aisle with me,” said Kenji, examining his manicure, “seeing as how he’ll look like an unchained beast by comparison.”
Nico raised his brows, and Kenji shrugged. “You know I love him, Nico, but honestly the man has all the style of a gorilla.”
“And the charm,” muttered Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest.
