Amber smiled, slowly. She had pretty, light-green eyes and wavy light-brown hair to her shoulders, and for some reason, she wasn’t what I’d pictured. I’d seen a couple of photos of her by now, but that still hadn’t gotten the image across. She had very little makeup on, and a flowy, pale-green dress, and for someone who’d enthralledtwohot rock stars, she just seemed so… down-to-Earth. Pretty, for sure, but very regular-girl.
Kind of like me, maybe. With less makeup, less cleavage, and definitely less jewelry.
She shook my hand. “I think… the pleasure’s all mine.” She looked me over quickly, like she couldn’t help it, and her gaze snagged on my chest. “Iloveyour necklace.”
“Thank you. I made it, actually.”
Her eyes met mine. “You did not.”
I smiled. “I did.”
“You make jewelry?” Katie asked me.
“I do.”
“That’s so cool,” she said. “I’m a painter. And Amber’s a photographer.”
“I heard,” I said, nodding at Amber. “Ashley showed me some of your work, actually. It’s beautiful.”
“He did not,” Amber said.
I smiled again. “He did.”
Amber smiled back.
And that was about it. Ice broken.
We got talking, easily enough; it didn’t take all that much. I was myself, Katie was really sweet, and Amber was… interesting.
My first impression? She liked me, even if she was scoping me out a bit. Making sure I was a good thing for Ashley.
I knew I was good for Ashley, so what did I have to worry about?
Anyway, I just didn’t feel all that uncomfortable meeting Amber. Or Elle. I’d been nervous about it, a little, this morning.
But mostly, I was nervous about meeting Dylan.
For one thing, I wanted him to like me.
And two, he was the only one of Ashley’s past loves that I actually felt a little lingering jealousy toward. Maybe because on some level I knew there was just no way I could ever compete with him.
He was Ashley’sbestfriend. And besides that, he was a man.
Apples and oranges.
Any way you looked at it, I’d never have what he had to offer Ashley, and I knew that.
So maybe, in some small way, no matter what happened… I’d always feel a little jealous of Dylan Cope.
* * *
I was headed toward my man across the lawn when Summer appeared. And no one could miss this woman.
She wore a strapless dress, hot-pink, with a full skirt. The bodice was cut deeply down the sides, showing off a generous amount of side boob, which most women probably couldn’t pull off, especially at a wedding. But hey, it was a rock ’n’ roll wedding, and she looked incredible.
She reached Ashley before I did, threw out her arms and purred, “Ash,” then gave my boyfriend a tight but quick squeeze and kissed his cheek.
I didn’t mind. I’d become accustomed to their friendship, and in truth, I admired the relationship they had. I liked that my man had a strong woman like Summer in his corner. That he’d been able to keep a friendship going with her even after she’d broken his heart. That he’d wanted to.
