Page 55 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
It’s Wyatt.
Blanche:Wake the fuck up, Bristol.
I slap my face once, then once again to try to jar my brain into functioning. Why am I naked? In Wyatt’s room. What happened to the plan?
Flashes of memory hit me like a slide presentation.
We got married last night. I look at my left hand, and sure enough, a silver-looking band winks back at me.
Last I remember, I was going to seduce him and then leave him high and dry.
Blanche:So, what the hell happened?
Oh, right. I was seduced by my seduction. Or rather, by his response to my seduction. It was all going really well until I realized he was turned on. And it probably would have stayed fine if we hadn’t had that kiss after the ceremony. That’s what set everything in motion. That kiss was otherworldly like we traveled to another dimension. And not just because it was a Sci-Fi wedding chapel. Which quickly led to the bathroom sex.
Ah, hell. I almost forgot about that part too.
I tiptoe back to the bed and grab my phone off the nightstand.
Twenty-two unread text messages.
Almost half are from my brother. And the rest from Darby.
I click on her name and pull one up.
DARBY: What happened to the plan?
DARBY: Why aren’t you answering me?
DARBY: Oh god, you slept with him, didn’t you? That’s the opposite of the plan. You realize that, right?
DARBY: The wedding doesn’t count if I wasn’t there as maid of honor.
DARBY: Wait, we are joking right?
DARBY: You didn’t really get married.
DARBY: Why aren’t you answering me?
One of the texts I sent her is a picture of Wyatt and me about to kiss at the ‘altar.’ Compliments, I assume, of the chapel photographer, otherwise known as Chewmocka. He has a great eye for framing his subjects.
Wyatt has my face in his hands, looking down at me like we’re in love. The funny part is, I’ve also got a nearly identical expression on my face. The next shot is us kissing. There are two more that follow. The pictures are hot. Wyatt and I look really into our kissing.
And a few coming back down the ‘aisle,’ hand in hand, after that.
The couple in the photo looks happy.
Wyatt and I look happy.
How is that even possible?
And fuck it all, how did I end up sleeping with him once we got back to the hotel. That’s even worse than marrying him.
Blanche:It explains why our thighs are sore.
Dammit!
I can’t stick to a plan to save my life.
