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"At least, tell me if it was everything you expected?"

"It was...." I stare at the shore that I can now see in the distance, "different."

"Different?" she yells. "That’s all you're going to give me? Come on, take pity on someone who’s been living vicariously through the exploits of all you women who’ve been hooking up with the Seven."

"Why don’t you get one of them for yourself?"

"Nope, no way, nada," she protests. "Those a-holes are way too possessive for me. I like someone who gives me my space, you know?"

"That’s why you’ve been eyeing up the only man who’d possibly beat the Seven at their own game?"

There’s silence, then she groans, "Not you as well?"

"So, you know who I am talking about?" I chuckle.

"Erm…" she clears her throat, "who were you talking about?"

"First you," I insist. It’s delightful how quickly I’ve managed to distract her. Whew.

"Yeah, okay, Liam…the fierce-as-fuck, sexy as-a-delicious-groomsman, mean-as-a-bride-to-be-before-her-wedding, Kincaid."

I laugh. "Those are some interesting comparisons you have there."

"That’s what comes of organizing weddings for a living." She continues, "I have the caricatures of those I’ve encountered on my brain. I’m afraid it’s turning me into a cynic."

"Cynical, and you?" I shake my head. "Nah, you’re the most optimistic woman I have ever met. I mean, come on, you have to be, to put together as many weddings as you have and still keep your sense of humor, not to mention your energy levels."

"Hmm," she grunts, "why are you buttering me up like I am a three-tiered wedding cake?"

"Aww, come on. Can’t I compliment a friend?"

"You don’t do compliments, Karina." I sense the smile in her words.

"What do you mean?" I twirl a strand of hair around my fingers. "Haven’t I been complimentary of you in the past? Or Julia? Or Summer?"

"Umm, no?"

"Hold on," I stiffen, "are you saying that I am unfeeling?"

"No, no," she protests. "On the contrary, it’s clear to us that you feel a lot. You tend to have it all bottled inside, which is fine. It’s the way you are you. It’s why, when you say something, we all end up listening. We know it’s significant."

"You make me sound… " I chew on my lower lip, "like a reserved, stuck-up bitch."

"You don’t come across as reserved or stuck up. More like cautious, like you take your time getting to know people before you open up to them."

"Hmm." I hunch my shoulders, not sure what to make of it. I do take my time getting to know people before I trust them. Which is why my reaction to Mr. Grumpy pants is a complete mystery. I thought I hated him… And then, at the first opportunity, I’d pretty much agreed to sleep with him…and…and… "I proposed to him."

"Wait…? What?" There’s the sound of something crashing.

"Isla?" I frown. "Isla? You there?"

I hear the sound of footsteps then more thumps. "I… I’m here," she finally says.

"You okay?"

"More to the point, are you okay?"

"I’m not sure." I walk over to the bed… The bed where he fucked me. The covers are still a mess, with dents in the middle of each pillow, indicating that, clearly, it had been a couple who had shared this space not too long ago. I sink down onto the mattress. "It’s why I called you."