“Ew, no. I wouldn’t touch that thing again if you paid me now.”
“When did you find out?”
I sigh, knowing she’ll be even more upset with me when I tell her the truth. “A month ago.”
“Amonthago. A whole month ago? And you’re just telling me now? We text every day, and you neglected to mention this hugely important detail to me? Why would you keep this a secret?”
“Because I didn’t want to ruin your wedding. Or make it about me. Look, this sucks. I was a hot mess when I found out. But it was for the best. I’d rather find out who he really is now than a few years into a marriage. I’ve had some time to process, and I’m ready to move on.”
I kind of did move on last night. But that was temporary. One time only. Why do I feel so sad at the thought of never having that man’s beautiful face between my legs again?
Bad thought to have in this moment.
Luna’s shoulders go down. “I feel like a selfish bridezilla. I’ve been planning a destination wedding, and I’m so self-absorbedthat I didn’t realize my own best friend was going through a breakup.”
“How would you have known when I didn’t tell you? Please. You’re not selfish. You’re one of the least selfish people I know.” Which is also why she’d flown back east at her father’s behest and fell straight into his trap. “And also, totallynota bridezilla. I wanted to keep this to myself because you deserve the most amazing day ever, and I didn’t want to make it about me and my problems.”
“Exactly how were you going to explain Christian not coming to St. Thomas?” Her eyes narrow. “Especially when you’re walking around with a hickey on your neck? What’s that about anyway? Did you have a hookup last night?”
I don’t say anything. I don’t know how to tell her that I had the world’s most amazing one-night stand with a sexy, badass business investor. Which sounds like he actually does something nefarious and possibly criminal in real life, and oh my God. Is Alessio in the Mafia?
I stare at my bestie in dawning horror.
“You didn’t invite Priest’s…you know…business associates, did you?” I ask her quietly.
She blinks, looking as befuddled as I feel. “No, it’s small. Strictly family. You know that.”
Okay. Whew. If Alessio is in the Mafia, it’s a Caribbean mafia. I have no idea what his last name is, I don’t have his number, I don’t even know where he’s from, and I’ll never see him again. So if the FBI comes knocking on my hotel room door tomorrow morning, I can honestly answer “I don’t know” to every question.
I’m letting my anxiety get the best of me now.Deep breath.I inhale, then exhale slowly.Concentrate.
“Did you hook up with someone last night?” she asks me quietly.
The heat creeping up my throat is probably the only answer she needs, along with my hickey, because apparently I’m back in the eleventh grade.
“I did,” I confirm.
“Oh my God, Is.”
“I didn’t mean to. You don’t have to worry that it’s going to get weird or that it will interfere with the wedding in any way. I don’t want him as my plus-one. I mean, I’m never going to see him again. I don’t even know who he is, not really. Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” She pats me on the back. “Honey, I’m happy for you. I’m fucking thrilled, in fact. I hope you had the best orgasms ever, all night long. You deserve it after what you’ve been through.”
Multiple orgasms.
Apparently that’s a thing for other people, not just an anomaly I experienced with Alessio.
It wasn’t a thing with Christian, that’s for sure.
I tamp down that thought. He doesn’t get to be in my head. I’m in paradise, and he can fuck right off.
“Thanks, I guess?” I shrug. I’m still blushing. Still sporting a colossal hickey on my neck. Still guilty as sin.
This is so embarrassing. I feel like I did when I was a teenager and my mom caught me sneaking out my bedroom window to meet up with Justin Tate, my sophomore-year boyfriend. Damn, I miss my mom. She could have been my plus-one. She’d have loved Luna.
“Was he hot?”
I smile, relieved to be dragged from my mind. “The hottest guy I’ve ever met. No joke.”
