Page 41 of Devious Vows

“…Viva looks so beautiful with her crown, almost like a princess…”

My fingers burn inside my palms as I clench them in my lap, hidden within the folds of blush chiffon that billows from my dress. The bridesmaids didn’t get to pick out our outfits today, and so, I get to spend the afternoon not only holding back tears, but also itchy as hell.

Viva, on the other hand, is wearing a pretty white sundress.

What I wouldn’t give to slap that crown right off her stupid golden head.

“You look like you’re trying to hold in a nasty shit.”

Scowling, I throw a look at my brother, curling my lip at his grinning face. “Leave me be, Julian.”

His dark hazel eyes run over my features, flickering between my matching pair before he shifts back to slouch into his seat. “They’ve already done all the introductions and important announcements. Just leave, no one would even notice or care.”

Sighing, I shake out my hands, smoothing down the fabric I’ve creased. “I have to be here. Francesca picked me to be part of the bridal party herself, she’d lose it if I wasn’t.”

“So?” He chuckles, his eyes trailing after a pretty blonde that walks by our table. “Since when do you give a fuck about that shit? Just leave, Bev.” Despite his act of nonchalance, his voice is low, presumably so our mother can’t hear him from across the table.

She’d also have my head if I left.

I start to shake my head, mouth opening to respond, but a high-pitched giggle stops my words, twisting my mouth and clenching my teeth instead. The sound is too close for comfort and my heart bangs in my throat in warning.

I don’t want to see them together.

I should have just listened to Julian and ditched out of here.

Pushing out of my chair, I excuse myself from the table, ignoring the daggers being dug into my back by my mother’s dark gaze as I spin away, billowing skirt almost knocking my chair over in my haste.

“Don’t mind her, she just really needed to use the bathroom. Said something about blowing the place up.” I hear my mother’s disgusted gasp and Julian’s following chuckle but ignore them both, too focused on leaving to care about his lame excuse.

I move quickly through the crowd, keeping my head down to avoid making eye contact with any of the other guests as I shuffle through them, determined to get inside before I have to see the couple.

I thought I could pretend I didn’t care that this was happening,but I can’t.

I’m breathing roughly by the time I make it inside and find an empty walkway, standing at the end of it to look out toward the vacant back lot. The damn dress I was forced to wear is heavier than I’m used to, the chiffon scraping along the skin on my chest with each breath I take. My pulse is banging against my ribs in tune with my lungs, and I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

I don’t run from anyone, but here I am, hiding inside the house like a coward.

Fingers pinching the coarse chiffon of my skirt, I stare outside, forcing my breaths to even out as I try and collect my scattered thoughts. I can’t hide in here forever, but if I wait long enough, I might be able to miss the majority of their mingling.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,cuore mio, but that dress is hideous.”

Swallowing thickly, I straighten my back. “You’re hideous.”

I should have known he’d find me, he has a knack for doing that when I desperately want to stay away from him. If Remy leaving Viva out there alone in front of all these people isn’t the biggest sign that he’s not at all interested in his marriage, then I don’t know what is. It shouldn’t make me smile to myself, but it does.

I like that he chose to follow me.

I like that everyone saw him do it.

He chuckles, the sound swirling in my gut and pinching around my heart. I blink out the window, pretending I can’t feel the heat of his chest licking up my spine as he steps close. His fingertips trail along the backs of my arms and gooseflesh rise in their wake, a shiver threatening to loosen my resolve as I continue to stare forward and pretend to not acknowledge the man at my back.

The tip of his nose lightly traces from my bare shoulder to my ear, warm breath puffing along the shell. “You look like an engorged peach.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, breathing through my nose.He’s not wrong.“And you look like a polished turd.” I finally turn to look up at him, my face inches from his as he bends over me, the vanilla and bergamot of his skin teasing my nostrils. Pursing my lips, I tilt my chin so I’m looking more fully into his face. “Pretty but still shit.”

He hums and the sound vibrates the chords of my heart, thrumming along my skin like a second pair of hands. His inked fingers reach between us, the tips gracing my jaw as he presses his thumb to my ruby-painted lips, purposefully smearing it across my mouth so everyone will know I didn’t spend this time alone.

“But at least I’m still pretty.” He drops his face toward mine, lifting me up onto my toes. “And you’re still sweet.”

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