Page 23 of Matched with Her Runaway Groom

“You’re throwing shoes now?” I say, picking it up and tossing it onto Tiffany’s bed.

“Yeah, might as well since I don’t have anything better to throw. Okay, let’s talk about the top things we want to do while on this ship.”

“The track looked like fun,” I say, brushing on some eye shadow.

“I like it. Let’s do it. What about the waterslides?”

“Aren’t those for kids?” I ask, standing back to look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a silky red top with a black pair of pants and a small heel. And I’m hoping she won’t notice that I’m trying to get out of slides since my stomach is in a vice every time I think about them.

Tiffany sits down on her bed. “Did you see any kids when we got on the ship? I’m pretty sure they’re for the adults. And is that what you’re wearing for dinner?”

“Yes,” I say, hesitating. I give myself a quick glance in the mirror and look back at her, wondering where I went wrong.

She walks over and goes through the clothes I’ve hung up in the small armoire. “Girl, you look like you’re here on business.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed and frown. “I don’t own anything other than what I’ve been wearing to work and the paint and remodeling clothes/sweats. It’s calledI now have love handles.”

“What are you talking about? You look so good now that you’re not on a crazy diet every minute of the day.” She waves her hands in the air. “That came out wrong. You didn’t look bad before, but now you shine.”

It’s similar to what Landon said before, and I’m trying to decide if they’re saying it to make me feel better or if it’s the truth.

“My mom disagrees. She thinks I shouldn’t be posting on social media in a paint balling suit when I ‘look like this.’”

“Rachelle, you don’t have to look like a model to be beautiful. Forget what your mom says and let’s have fun on this trip. I’ve got my love handles and I’ll be your wingwoman. Maybe we can find someone amazing for you.”

“On a cruise?”

Tiffany grins. “It could happen.”

I take a second to think about that. Of course, then thoughts about Landon crop up. I need to stop thinking about him and move on. Tiffany’s words run in a loop in my mind. I’ve never been one for a fling, but maybe that will help me get Landon out of my system at last.

“Let’s do it. We’re never going to see any of the people from this trip again.”

Tiffany nods, grinning. “Who cares what we look like, as long as we love every minute? Ready?”

“Yes. I’m starving.” I grab the only clutch I brought and open the door.

“I can already smell something with garlic.” Her smile drops and she looks like she’s about to pass out.

“Are you all right?” I ask, trying to figure out what changed. We’re only two steps from our door. “I thought you loved garlic.”

“I do. I just, I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like my stomach isn’t liking the waves of the sea.”

I frown. “You said on your last cruise you were sick. Do you think it was from getting seasick?”

“I don’t—” She doesn’t finish her sentence before heading into the bathroom. I hear retching in the toilet.

“Go ahead without me. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Tiffany’s voice is barely above a whisper.

Terror strikes through me. “You want me to go to dinner by myself?” I've done a lot of things over the past year, but I still get scared to do some things on my own. This is the same terror as sitting alone at the middle school lunch tables.

“I just need to clean myself up a bit. I’ll be right behind you.”

My stomach wills me to take each step down the hall and toward the dining room. I should’ve stopped to eat lunch today.

“Hello, what’s your name, please?”

“Rachelle Stewart—"

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