“Oh my God,” I said, covering my face. “You people are deranged.”
Once we got inside and the limo began to move, someone passed around champagne glasses.
Zo lifted hers high. “Here’s to the happy bride.”
“To Fabi,” Cleo added.
“To one last night of freedom,” Nina said with a grin.
Mia smiled at me over the rim of her glass. “And to marrying someone who better be worthy of you.”
My chest tightened. I lifted my own glass and touched it to theirs. “Thanks, guys.”
The champagne fizzed bright and cold on my tongue as the limo pulled away from the curb.
For tonight, I’d let myself pretend this really was what it looked like. A bride on her way to celebrate the beginning of forever, instead of a girl living a lie.
Strobe lights.Bottle girls with sparklers. Dancers writhing in suspended cages.
Recently voted the number one club in New York City, Black Silk felt like a piece of Vegas dropped into the Meatpacking District. After a few hours, I was finally starting to get used to the sensory overload and the way the pounding bass rattled against my ribs.
The shots were also tasting better the longer the night went on.
“Are you ready for the next dare?” Mia called out, swaying on the leather sofa to the beat of the music. “This is the last one. If you do it, you win the grand prize!”
My friends had devised a game for me. Each of them had come up with a dare, and if I completed them all, I won a prize.
I reached inside the sparkly pink hat with the word Bride spelled out in black rhinestones on the side.
“Zo!” I moaned as I read the card I’d just pulled out. “This one is yours. I’m not doing it!”
So far, I’d gotten ten strangers to autograph my arm, convinced the bartender to let me make someone a cocktail, and danced in one of the cages for three horrifying minutes.
But this next one? Yeah, even the competitiveness all the tequila had awakened in me wasn’t enough for me to do it.
Zo peeked over my shoulder and laughed. “I know you said you guys are getting along, but physically, you still haven’t broken the ice. I’m helping you warm up to each other, all right?” She pointed at the others. “These three just wanted you to embarrass yourself. I’m the only one being thoughtful!”
The card said, “Send a racy photo to Cosimo.”
Yeah. No. That was not happening. Not after we’d agreed on very clear boundaries regarding the physical side of our fake marriage.
Although…to be fair, we hadn’t specifically discussed photos.
Personally, I wouldn’t mind if Cosimo sent me a shirtless picture of himself. He had an annoyingly excellent body. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. The kind of build that made you understand why women throughout history sometimes made questionable decisions when it came to men.
When he’d held me during our photoshoot, I’d felt the hard shift of muscle beneath my hands. And I’d been curious about his tattoos ever since he mentioned them.
I pressed my cold glass to my cheek. I was definitely drunk. But even in my current state, I knew doing this dare was a terrible idea.
“If you don’t do it, you’re going to lose the game!” Nina shouted from across the booth. “And the last prize is the best one.”
I eyed all the prizes I’d gotten already. There was a Valais Vixens—the name we’d given our group back in boarding school—hoodie from Mia, a bracelet with a charm that looked like Yeti from Cleo, and a custom box of chocolates from Nina.
I loved all of them.
Zo’s prize had to be good.
Ugh.
