Amanda laughed. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mads, but this isn’t truth or dare.” She turned to her sister, dressed in a swan-print nightgown with white feather boa and sleeping mask. “Katie, do you remember Kiss-Marry-Kill?”
Katie took a sip of Whispering Angel. “I always wanted to marry Nick Jonas.”
“Can we change it toFuck-Marry-Kill?” Reese asked. “We’re adults now.”
The maid of honor had us vote. Surprisingly, Kiss-Marry-Kill won. “Katie, you’re up first.” Amanda smiled mischievously, then waved to the girls. “Three names.”
“Austin,” Yasmin said.
Katie beamed.
“Nick Jonas,” Paige added.
Everyone laughed as Katie blushed.
“And Charlie Carmichael,” Reese said.
“Well, the last one is easy,” Katie said. “I would kill Charlie Carmichael.”
Amanda and Meredith groaned. “Here we go…” Amanda muttered before taking a long sip of her gin-and-tonic.
“Who’s Charlie Carmichael?” I asked.
“One of my friends from boarding school,” Reese answered. “Katie met him at a party our junior year. He’s that lethal combination of charismatic flirt meets excellent listener. He asked for Katie’s number then ghosted her.”
Rude!I thought.
“Kiss?” Courtney prompted.
Katie hesitated, caught between her future husband and her celebrity crush. “Kiss Nick,” she eventually said. “And marry Austin.”
We toasted her.
“Okay, Mer, you’re up,” Amanda said.
Meredith wentbang, bang, bangonce we threw three names at her. Kiss? Timothée Chalamet. Marry? Seth Meyers. Kill? Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court.
Then it was my turn.
“Girls, I’ve got this.” Reese put up a hand before turning to me. “The kid who drooled all over you, the boy next door, and the hot guy washing dishes at the engagement party.”
“Marco,” Katie translated.
My stomach swished. “Where’s my celebrity option?”
Reese shook her head. “Not a requirement.”
“Umm,” I said. “I’d kill Jacob, but no hard feelings.”
The group nodded in agreement, and Yasmin quickly pressed for my one-time kiss.
A name flashed in front of my eyes…but it wasn’t Connor McCallister’s. Blood thumped through my ears, so intensely thatI could barely hear myself think.Marco, my mind murmured.Marco, Marco, Marco.
Holy shit.
Did IlikeMarco Álvarez? As more than a friend? Or, like, whatever we were?
Friendsuddenly sounded wrong.
