“And how’s my other warm fluffy bunny?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me.
“I feel like we need to rethink the pet names,” I said dryly. “What about me says fluffy bunny?”
“You’re warm and snuggly,” she replied, kissing my jaw. “And you even put up a picture of us!” Then she wrinkled her nose. “I look kind of squinty in this photo.”
I kissed her nose.
“You look perfect. I love this photo.”
“I feel like I look crazy in that outfit.”
“Crazy sexy.” I ran my hands over the curves of Avery’s body. She lightly pushed me. “It’s not that bad. I’m sure you’re going to receive worse outfits at the bridal shower this weekend,” I teased.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said and perched on the edge of my desk.
I ran my hand lightly up and down her leg.
“My sister and stepmother are hosting the bridal shower. I know they’re going to try and sabotage me or make me slip up and admit that this is all fake.”
“Just don’t drink too much,” I joked.
“That’s the only way I can survive events with my family.”
“I understand the sentiment.”
“Your family is actually nice though,” Avery countered.
“Nice?” I snorted. “That’s being generous.”
“They aren’t out to get you.”
“Not all of them,” I admitted.
“I just need this wedding to be over,” Avery said with a sigh.
“We could elope,” I suggested. “We could go now. I can hire a photographer if you’re worried about having evidence. We could get married in Italy out in a villa in Tuscany, just the two of us. We’d say our vows on a little balcony overlooking the countryside.”
“That sounds really romantic,” she said wistfully. “Wait, what am I saying?” She laughed. “We’re not in a relationship.”
Part of me desperately wished we were.
50
Avery
“You didn’t want to come to the bridal shower?” I teased Edward when I saw him that Saturday morning. I had taken one of Blade’s cars—for some reason, men needed more than one fancy sports car—to pick up Shirley. Edward pretended to vomit as he put Shirley’s bag in the trunk.
“I have no desire to watch you open boxes of sex toys and edible lingerie from horny seniors.”
“Surely they won’t be giving you sex toys,” Shirley exclaimed.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said with a grimace. “Ida has a sex toy company, and when my grandmother and her friends start drinking, they get randy.”
The bridal shower was in full swing when Shirley and I parked in front of my sister’s house.
“Are we late?” I checked the invitation. “According to this, we’re actually five minutes early,” I said, frowning.
“Don’t do that,” Shirley chastised. “You don’t want wrinkles on your big day.”
