Page 125 of Small Town Firsts

“Look at you, ya smart cookie. Now, hush up and lemme work.”

Forty-five minutes later, Stacia has me contoured and highlighted to the nth degree. My eyes are slicked with ashimmery gold shadow, and my lips are a bright fuchsia. All in all, I look way hotter than I feel.

“Now, let’s get you dressed.”

“You wanna tell me where we’re going?”

“Not really, nope.”Ugh. Figures.

She rifles through the shopping bags she brought with her and pulls out a stunning velvet dress in the most spectacular dusty rose color. “Here. Put this on.”

I know I won’t get my way, so I don’t bother arguing. I slip the material over my head and check my reflection in the mirror. I’m not sure what our plans are, but this dress will certainly turn heads. The fabric hugs my body like I’m sewn into it—undies and a bra will for sure be a no-go. It hits mid-thigh and sports a deep vee with straps so thin they may as well be dental floss.

Oh.Oh, no.Maybe turning heads is part of her plan. What if she’s planning to parade me around at some club in hopes of finding me a rebound hook-up?Oh, God. I feel sick.I don’t think I can do that. I’m not ready to move on—even if he never loved me.

“Stacia.” My voice breaks. “Please tell me where we’re going?”

My best friend looks at me with eyes full of sympathy. “You’re gonna have to trust me. Iknowyou, and I want what’s best for you. Please just trust me?”

I shrug and turn back to my reflection.

“AJ, babe, I know this is hard. So, let’s make a deal. If you end up hating it, you can shave my head—or wait, I know…you can raid my closet and take anything you want. Seriously, just—trust—me.”

For Stacia, those are pretty high stakes, so I decide to follow along.

That is until she drives us to the fucking country club, and I see the huge banner that readsCongratulations Brock and Amandain a sickening powder blue script.

CHAPTER 25

BROCK

Fuck-a-duck.Getting through the past week has been hell on earth. And that’s not an exaggeration. I feel as though I’ve walked through fire and brimstone, and I damn sure know I’ve dined with the devil—aka Daddy Dearest. Pretty sure the dude’s a full-blown sociopath. Lucky for me, the apple fellvery farfrom the tree.

And not banging down Abby Jane’s door? Yeah, the struggle was real. I also fought the urge to stalker-call her. Well. I mean, almost. Those first few days weren’t so pretty. But Stacia and West helped me get it under control—mostly Stacia after she explained to me that Abby Jane needed space to sort through her emotions. Personally, I thought that was bullshit, because she doesn’t have all of the facts. But, whatever. I figured one call a day was plenty of fucking space though. Plus, what if she actually answered?

Now, here I am hoping like hell everything goes according to plan. The sheer number of variables is freaking me the fuck out, though. I need everything to run smoothly. My mom, West, Stacia, and me…we all have a part to play tonight, and if one of them fucks this up, I might explode. I can barely take a full breath my chest is so tight with the pain of not having Abby Janethis week so I don’t even want to think about what might be if this plan doesn’t pan out.

Can’t forget the Abby Jane factor, either. That girl doesn’t do a damn thing she doesn’t want to.God, please let Stacia get here so I can win her back.Notice I didn’t saytryto win her back. I’m taking a page from Yoda’s playbook: “Do or do not. There is no try.” So, fuck yeah, I’m gonnado.

I tug at my tie—that not so coincidentally matches the dress Stacia bought my girl—as I step into the room for my sham of an engagement party. It feels like a noose around my neck and as I take in the expertly decorated space, I struggle to breathe.

From the white linen tablecloths and ugly blue runners to the twinkling string lights wound around the vases sitting on every available surface, I can’t help but cringe at the wrongness of it all.

While Abby Jane and I weren’t anywhere near getting engaged—fucking duh, we hadn’t even said the “L” word—I feel like we we’re headed that way, and I know for sure our party wouldn’t be anything like this. Hell. We’d probably go out to Vinny’s with West and Stacia and call it a day. That’s one of the things I love the most about my girl…how unpretentious she is. My firecracker is down to earth, and real as fuck.

I startle when I feel a strong hand clamp down onto my shoulder. “Son,” my dad says.Should have known it was him.“I’m so glad you finally came to your senses. I know you think you love that girl, but it’ll pass.”

I shrug out of his hold and offer him a tight-lipped smile.

“Try not to look so angry. You don’t want your bride or the guests to think anything’s wrong.”

My teeth mash together as I restrain myself from saying all of the things I desperately want to say.In time, Brock. In time. Just be patient.

I take a deep breath and paste a pleasant smile across my face before turning and walking away without another word. I only have so much willpower.

Ten minutes later, guests begin trickling in, not one of them looking shocked over this impromptu engagement party to a woman I’ve never even dated. Just goes to show how warped their minds are. None of these people matter, however—there’s only one guest I’m interested in, and she’s definitely not on the invite list.

Luckily, I don’t have to wait long.

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