Chapter 3
ISLA
“You’re here!”
Luna wraps me in a boa-constrictor hug, squealing so loudly in my ear that I swear my eardrum starts to whimper in submission. But I hug her back because I love her so much, and I’m elated to be here with her for her big day. The big day she deserves and should have had from the get-go.
“I’m here,” I say, swaying back and forth with her as we embrace because it feels so good to hug my friend, especially after the last few months. “Unfortunately, my luggage still isn’t.”
“What?” She jerks back, looking at me with a frown. “What happened to your luggage?”
“The Miami airport. But never mind that. I have a credit card and there’s a really cute boutique in the lobby, so I picked up a few things this morning.”
I don’t tell her that my credit card isthiscloseto being maxed out. I’m still carrying around my grad-school debt on top of the loans from my bachelor’s. Quitting my job didn’t exactly help the finances. Neither did paying for Christian’s half of this trip or a whole lot of other bills before we split. But that’s all the kind ofinfo that’s bound to rain on my girl’s parade, and we’re having none of that.
I’m firmly TeamLuna has her happily ever after and gorgeous island weddingall the way.
Which is why I also don’t tell her about the incredible night I had with a man I’ll never see again. If I even think about what went down last night, I swear I’ll incinerate on the spot. So I focus on my bestie instead.
Luna’s dark hair glints in the sunshine streaming in the windows, falling in a glossy wave past her shoulders. Wearing a strapless little black dress and killer heels, she looks like she stepped off aVoguecover shoot instead of rushing at me across a hotel lobby.
She frowns at me. “You mean you don’t have anything?”
“Don’t worry. I brought the most important piece of clothing as a carry-on, carefully zipped inside a garment bag. A flight attendant was wonderful enough to stow it for me so that it wouldn’t get wrinkled.”
“You think I’m worried about your dress?” Luna shakes her head. “Woman, you could wear a trash bag at the wedding, and I wouldn’t care. You’d still be absolutely gorgeous, and nothing matters as much as you being here with me this time, the way it was meant to be.”
“Your loyalty is much appreciated, but I have the gown and it’s in perfect shape, so we’re all good.”
“Oh, you!” She grins at me, giving me a once-over before frowning. “What about Christian? Is his luggage lost too, or just yours?”
Damn. This question came sooner than I had hoped it would. It is also why I changed my flight to St. Thomas, explaining my late arrival away as a work obligation. Because I couldn’t bear to face her too many days before the ceremony. Lying to my bestie is impossible. I don’t know if I can do it. Avoidance is one thing,but meeting her eye and pretending I am still happily engaged to Christian is another entirely.
“He couldn’t make it,” I hedge.
Her frown deepens. “What do you mean, he couldn’t make it?”
I open my mouth to answer with a lie, but she stops me, seizing my upper arms and turning me toward the morning sunlight.
“Wait a minute, is that a hickey?”
Shit.
Is it a hickey? She’s staring at my neck. I have a vivid memory of Alessio deep inside me while he sucked hard on my throat.
Oh my God, I have a hickey. A bright, glaring one-night stand hickey. Why didn’t I look in the mirror this morning? How am I going to explain this away?
“I…ah…um…”
Her mouth falls open. “That’s not from Christian, is it?”
“We are… He and I broke up.”
“What?” she demands so loudly that at least half a dozen of our fellow patrons look our way.
Now, I have a hickeyandan audience. This is humiliating. I’m too old for hickeys. And for explaining why they aren’t from my former fiancé.
I jerk my head in the direction of the pool area. “Let’s go for a walk and talk.”
