“Nothing. Just like seeing you like this.”
“Covered in ribbons?”
“Happy.”
She ducks her head, but I catch the smile.
“You guys are disgusting,” Olivia says, but she’s grinning. “Speaking of disgusting, that kiss at lunch today? I thought Garrett’s eyes were going to pop out of his head.”
“Olivia,” Juliette warns.
“What? It was amazing. Like something out of a movie. Owen, tell them.”
Owen looks up from his candy counting. “Dude, I thought he was going to climb over the table.”
“I was being romantic,” I protest.
“You were being territorial,” Olivia corrects. “Which was also romantic. But definitely territorial. Not that I blame you after whatever Melissa cornered you.”
Juliette goes still beside me. I feel rather than see her tense up.
“We should order dinner,” Owen says, either oblivious to the sudden tension or trying to defuse it. “Hotel restaurant does room service to suites.”
“Perfect. You order,” Olivia says. “Get whatever. Just lots of it. We’ll be here forever at this rate.”
Owen pulls Olivia up. “Come on. We’ll go down and order in person. Better than waiting an hour for them to answer the phone.”
“But the favors?—”
“Will be here when we get back.” He’s already steering her toward the door. “Twenty minutes max.”
The door closes behind them and suddenly it’s just me and Juliette, surrounded by wedding favors, sitting in the thick silence.
“What did she say to you?”
I keep my hands busy with the tags. “It’s not important.”
“Please don’t lie to me.” Her voice is quiet but firm. “I’ve had enough of that from Garrett.”
That stops me cold. I look up at her and she’s watching me with those light eyes that see too much.
“I’m not lying to you. What she said wasn’t important. She’s a horrible person and honestly? Garrett deserves her.”
“I still want to know.”
I set down the tag I’m holding. She deserves the truth, even if it’s ugly.
“She cornered me in the bathroom and blocked the door. Thenshe suggested I could do better than you. That you’re too serious, too uptight. That when I get bored, I should find her.”
Juliette goes completely still. I watch her process this—Melissa following me, the time gap, my weird energy when I came back.
“She hit on you,” she says flatly.
“Pretty aggressively, yeah.”
“While engaged to my ex.”
“Yep.”
