Josh
I don’t want to say your friend is the worst but…
Gif of a T-Rex in a wedding dress screaming “Bridezilla.”
Molly
Oh hush. We’ll still have Thursday night and most of Friday. I checked flights. Unless they take a private jet, they’re not getting in until late afternoon.
Josh
That’s still too soon. You promised me a full weekend.
Molly
And I’ll deliver… after the wedding.
Josh
I’m going to hold you to that.
Molly
And if I don’t deliver?
Josh
How do you feel about handcuffs and beds?
I smirk, sending him a screenshot of me asking my assistant to book the remotest cabin with a hot tub she can find for the week after the wedding.
Josh
Have I told you today that you’re perfect?
Molly
TWELVE
JOSH
I’m not gonna fuck her. I’m not gonna fuck her. I’m not gonna?—
I drop our bags in the entrance of the house. My parents have decent taste. The place feels like a homey beach house, only… larger. Ma has hung pictures of the family throughout the rooms, and little knickknacks are scattered here and there, giving the house a lived-in, warm feel. This isn’t some fancy prize home; it’s real.
Beside me, Molly places her hands on her lower back, groaning as she stretches out the kinks. She throws me a grin, her eyes lighting up.
“I’ve missed this place.” She throws her arms out, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. “God, it’s so warm. Why don’t you live here year-round? I just want to sit by the pool and soak in this heat forever.”
“You know it’s meant to rain later today.”
“Shhh, don’t rain on my parade.” She hums happily, spinning in place. “Now, where am I staying?”
The million-dollar question. I swallow hard, stepping closer to her.
I’m not gonna fuck her. I’m not gonna fuck her. I’m not gonna?—
Unless she asks me to.
