Page 89 of Most Likely to Deny Love

Tiffany hesitated, clearly hoping for more, but when no one offered anything, she and her friends left without another word.

The moment she was out the door, Hannah leapt to her feet. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, Mia,” she blurted, looking genuinely upset. “I hope I didn’t make things weird. Here, have your seat back.”

Mia’s smile was tight but genuine as they swapped places. “No, you were perfect. Thank you for the quick thinking.”

“Seriously,” Emily added, “there would have been a shit storm at work on Monday if you hadn’t done what you did. You seriously saved us.”

“It was nothing,” Hannah insisted, though her eyes kept darting between Mia and me. “But if you want to, you can thank me by buying me a drink. That was fucking stressful.”

“I’ll get it, since it was my idea in the first place.” Emily stood, grabbing her purse. “Come with me and choose your poison.”

“Good time for a bathroom break then,” Maya put in, eyeing Samara and Poppy.

“Great idea.”

“Yup, good one.”

In less than five seconds, Mia and I had the table to ourselves.

“You okay?” I murmured, placing my arm along the back of her chair and leaning in.

She nodded, but there was something vulnerable in her eyes that made my chest tighten. “Yes, of course. That was just... unexpected.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” Her attempt at a casual shrug didn’t quite land. “It was the smart play.”

I studied her face, noting the slight furrow between her brows, the way she wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Mia.”

“What?”

“Look at me.”

When she finally did, I saw everything she was trying to hide—the hurt, the confusion, the jealousy she didn’t want to acknowledge. And something else, something deeper that made my heart rate kick up a notch.

“If the situation were reversed,” I said quietly, “I wouldn’t have liked it either.”

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across her features before she could mask it. “It’s fine, Jack. Really.”

It was clear that she didn’t want to talk about it any further. “How about you get your things and come home with me?” I leaned closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “I’d like to remind you, in no uncertain terms, exactly who belongs in my lap.”

The blush that spread across her cheeks was answer enough. “N-now?”

“Right now.”

MIA

Istood on the small platform in Bridal Dreams Boutique, feeling like a sausage being prepped for packaging. The skin-colored bodysuit Emily had insisted we wear clung to every curve while the seamstress, Marlene, pinned pale blue satin around me with deft movements.

“A little tighter through the waist, I think,” my mom suggested, tilting her head as she assessed me like a particularly disappointing art project. “Mia will definitely be slimming down before the wedding, won’t you, sweetie?”

I caught Marlene’s frown in the three-way mirror, the quick downward flick of her eyes before she resumed pinning. Heat crawled up my neck as I mumbled something noncommittal.

“It’s important the dresses look uniform,” Aunt Monica added helpfully, circling me like a vulture. “The photographs have to be perfect.”

The other bridesmaids, Laurel, Bethany, and Samantha, all Megan’s sorority sisters, with nearly identical blonde highlights and juice cleanse enthusiasm, nodded in synchronized agreement. They’d already been fitted, their sample dresses hanging nearby like pale blue ghosts of Christmas Future.

The seamstress moved behind me, her voice professionally neutral. “Can you pull your hair out of the way, please? I need to check the back seam.”

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