Page 31 of Miss Belief

“Are you close with your mom?”

“I love my mother, but it’s impossible to be close to her without some measure of drama, which means I often need a break. She’s also bitter about the divorce. She hasn’t forgiven my father for having an affair despite having had several of her own. The only difference was my father left her for his.”

“Yikes. You mentioned people wanting you and your ex to get back together. Does that include your mom?”

“It does. My mother and Vanessa’s mother have wanted us to marry for years. They’re friends, and I think it’s a source of pride for her to have our two families merge.”

“Sounds like another world.”

“It is.” One I was happy to no longer be a part of. Thinking about it now, I realized something strange. I’d been anxious to break away from the bubble of privilege I’d grown up in, but as long as I’d stayed with Vanessa, that meant I never truly could.

“So I believe I have the lay of the land on your ex and now your family. What about the groom and your friends who will be there?”

“The groom, Kevin, is someone I grew up with. He’s marrying Vanessa’s cousin. And I went to undergrad with some of the other groomsmen. Phil will be there. He and his wife, Ellen, are normal people. Word of warning: she may be the solitary woman there who will be nice to you.”

Teagan lifted a shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

Right. I’d try not to.

* * *

“Stay right here,and close your eyes. Hold still.”

The following evening we were at my apartment. Teagan’s idea of retribution for the shopping trip was to give me a facial. She assumed I’d find the idea of pampering absolute torture, but it wasn’t the cool mask on my face responsible for making me uncomfortable. Nope, it was the touch of her fingers over my skin, the nearness of her so I could pick up her signature scent of coconut, and the way my body was reacting to her.

“What are you going to do to me?” Damn, my voice was much huskier than I’d intended. But in my defense, she was leaning right over my position where I lay on the sofa with my head propped on the arm of it.

“That first step was cleansing your face.” Although my eyes were closed, I could hear the smirk in her voice. Quick little dabs with her cotton rounds were efficiently gliding along my skin. Next came something cold. “The substance I’m applying now is a mask.”

Once she was done spreading the goop on my face, she started massaging my hand.

I couldn’t help tensing up.

“Sorry, part of giving a facial is typically a little massage of the arms and hands, but if you don’t want me to—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Pathetically, I could feel my cock already liking the idea. Jesus, get it together.

“The mask will make your skin brighter.”

“Are you saying my skin is dull?” I was kidding, yet her response hit me directly in the solar plexus.

“There’s nothing dull about you, Reid Maxwell.”

Bitterness laced my response. “My ex would disagree with you. I tend to be a creature of habit.” She’d always admonished me about how I’d order the same meal in a restaurant, wore the same brand of shirt in different colors, and had worn the same style haircut since college.

“Your ex is a cunt.”

I tried to smile, but my face was covered in a creamy substance smelling of marshmallows. Teagan’s bluntness cracked me up. “And now I know you don’t flinch at using the C-word.”

“Not for a woman who cheated on her fiancé with his older brother during a family holiday party. Yeah, she’s the definition of the word. But not to worry, I won’t go dropping C-bombs at the wedding. Oh, unless you give me whiskey. Whiskey makes me feisty.”

My chuckle filled the room. “You mean there’s such a thing as another level up?”

“What are you implying? You think I’m feisty now? Let me guess: it’s my red hair.”

“Your red hair has nothing to do with what makes you feisty. And it was meant to be a compliment.”

“Is it? It seems most men don’t want a woman who speaks her mind, says the C-word from time to time, or doesn’t take shit from people.”