Page 7 of Pucked Up and Married (Las Vegas Angels 4)

Jillian had curled about half my head—and it looked amazing.

I mean, so, so, so cute.

Like I wanted to go put on my pretty, pink sundress and strappy sandals. Then head to the nearest beach.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jillian looked at me. “Of course.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me like everyone else?”

She sighed. “Oh, Lexi. Not everyone is mad at you. I think most people are just a bit—confused. That’s all.”

I thought about that for a second. “And you’re not?”

She shook her head and kept on curling my hair. “No, I’m not confused. I may not know what’s going on—” she held my eyes for a second before she continued, “but what I do know is—everything is not always as it seems. I’ve known you for a long time, honey. And I know what kind of person you are.”

“I’ve known Trey for a shorter time. But I also think the world of him.”

“And, what I see happening between you—seems a whole lot deeper than anyone probably thinks.”

Jillian was one of the smartest people I knew.

Also, the most kind.

That was why when she got asked to be on the reality show, Single Girl, and she gave the rose to the wrong guy—the stupid guy—Stuart, and not Cash Clemens—pro hockey star hunk, who I happened to know she’d been crushing on for at least a dang decade and who was also clearly made for her—I knew something had to be off.

I’d watched her with Cash the whole season, and it was obvious to me and the other gazillion viewers all over the world—that they should both quit hockey immediately and have a dozen adorable babies.

STAT.

They were seriously the coolest couple I’d ever seen in my life.

Every time they were on TV—the magic they created oozed out of the screen. I don’t know how many times I swooned.

Like—swooned.

So, when she picked Stuart—and not Cash, the most perfect man in the world for her, bar none—I curled into the fetal position on our couch—and scream-cried for at least an hour.

My dad thought I was nuts.

And I was.

The kind of pain I felt—and let’s face it, I didn’t even have a horse in this race—had been excruciating.

Just thinking about that heinous event brought it all back.

When I saw Jillian a few days later—I didn’t quite know what to say.

So, I said the only thing that really mattered, “Are you okay?”

And—that—was all it took.

She’d nearly collapsed in my arms and bawled her eyes out for two hours.

Not once since then had she mentioned a thing about it, though.

And, to this day, she was with Stuart.

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