Page 25 of Ex's & Oh's (The Lucky Girls 1)

“I’m meant to watch my figure. Mom will kill me if I can’t fit into that dress,” Stacey says, taking a bite out of a croissant while we pour orange juice at the next station. “But I’m going to die if I don’t get something unhealthy in my system. Salads and hangovers do not mix.”

I giggle. “One binge breakfast to save yourself isn’t going to make your wedding dress too small. Trust me. You’re going to be fine.”

We walk to a table and sit down. The soft hum of morning conversation is accented by the clink and scrape of cutlery on crockery and it's peaceful. There aren't any paps around, peeking into the windows.

Bliss.

I dive into the streaky bacon I piled on my plate and sip orange juice, hoping that it will stop the pounding in my head. I should have packed Advil. I thought of everything but that. I make a mental note to make sure we have hangover kits for the wedding day itself—if we’re going to celebrate Stacey’s wedding the right way, I’m going to need more hangover cures at hand.

“I’m so sorry I bailed on you guys last night,” Stacey says after gulping down her orange juice. “I was done. After I threw up, I just wanted to sleep. Marc had to take me home and babysit, the poor guy. He puts up with so much."

"He's a star," I say. "He loves you."

"After all that vomit, I'm surprised he didn't change his mind about the wedding." She laughs. "You had a good time, though, right? Did you stay out late?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know what the rest of the party was like.”

“Why?”

I stare at my food, pushing the scrambled egg around on the plate.

“Where were you?” Stacey asks when the silence stretches out and I still don't answer. Her eyes are narrowed.

“With Brett,” I mumble before I look up at her.

Stacey frowns and then owls her eyes. “Wait a minute. The Brett that you ended up knowing? The one that’s the same guy you hate so much. That Brett?”

I blush and nod. “I was drunk. When he came to talk to us and you bailed to throw up—”

“I can’t even remember that,” Stacey says, shaking her head. “I just ditched you when you needed me. That’s horrible.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just…he wanted to start from scratch. Call a truce, you know?” I try to remember how he worded it, but it’s a bit of a blur. I just remember that we did a hell of a lot more than call a truce. Talk about sealing the deal.

“That’s sweet." Stacey takes a bite from the next croissant and speaks with food in her cheek. "What did you say?”

“I slept with him.”

Stacey stares at me for just a second before she bursts out laughing.

“What a way to settle the score,” she says. "I mean, you can agree, and then you can agree."

“It’s not funny,” I scold.

“Yes, Jenna. It’s funny. Oh, God.” She shakes her head, still laughing. “I’m just trying to piece it all together. You, telling me all the time how you’re here for work and men aren’t on the agenda. And you hate Brett so much and now he’s here and then…you sleep with him!”

I’m irritated that she thinks this is so funny. I’m pissed off at myself that I let this happen at all. I should have known better than to fall into his bed just because he’s charming as hell, he has a face like a Hollywood star, and a body that belongs on the cover of a GQ magazine.

“I’m sorry,” Stacey finally says. “But you can see why this is so weird, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, yeah. I see it.” I sigh. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t hate him now. He’ll just think I’m being full of shit.”

“But you hate him?”

“Maybe hate isn’t the right word…”

Stacey giggles again. “No, I wouldn’t say it is.”

I glare at her. “I just don’t know what to make of it. I mean, I don’t do stuff like this.” I finally scoop egg on my fork and put it in my mouth, chewing.

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