Page 8 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Biker

HANNAH

I woke with the distinct sense that I'd made a series of regrettable decisions.

Sunlight sliced through the cabin curtains like a personal attack. My mouth tasted like I'd been chewing cardboard, and my head throbbed in time with my pulse.

I reached for my phone and squinted at the screen.

A long text conversation stared back at me. I remembered asking Everett to come to the wedding. Remembered the relief that flooded through me when he'd agreed.

I didn’t remember the full extent of whatever else I'd said.

I scrolled up slightly, saw something about crying in public and possibly murdering James, and immediately locked my phone again.

No. I refused to reread drunk Hannah's complete emotional breakdown. Everett had already witnessed it. That was humiliation enough.

At least he'd said yes. That was the part that mattered. I wouldn't have to face James alone.

My phone rang.

Everett's name appeared on the screen, and I answered immediately. "Thank you for agreeing to come. I know it's last minute and⁠—"

"Hannah." His tone made my stomach drop. "I can't make it."

I sat up too fast and regretted it. "What?"

"I'm so sorry. I’ve got a meeting I can't get out of."

"You said you'd be here." The words came out smaller than I meant them to.

"I said I'd make sure you weren't handling this alone. That part still stands."

That wasn't the same thing, but I'd been too drunk to notice the distinction last night.

"Everett, I asked you specifically because⁠—"

"Grim's coming instead."

I blinked. "Grim?”

"He'll keep James away from you. Trust me, nobody's going to mess with you if Grim's standing next to you."

My brain struggled to process this new information. "You told him?"

"Yeah. You can count on him. He's the one person I trust not to make the whole situation worse for you.”

I wanted to argue that Grim barely tolerated me, but Everett sounded pretty sure. "He agreed to this?"

"He did." Everett clearly believed this solved everything.

I thanked him, ended the call, and stared at the wall.

Grim, also known as Evan Benson, was attending Lyra's wedding as my date.

The same Grim who'd spent years treating me like an inconvenient younger sister. The one who answered my questions in single syllables and looked perpetually annoyed whenever I entered a room.

I dropped my face into my hands and groaned.

By the time I showered, downed two glasses of water, and swallowed a couple of ibuprofen tablets, I’d started to feel better. At least until I tried to decide what to wear.