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My mouth goes dry. “This is the best day of my life.”

His hand slides down to my ass, giving it a squeeze. “You can have the shower. I’ll make breakfast.”

“You cook, too?” I pull back to look at him properly. “What are you, a fantasy?”

“I’m just making scrambled eggs. Don’t get too excited.”

But I am excited. Stupidly, dangerously excited. The coffee, the car, the domesticity of it all… It’s everything I’ve wanted and convinced myself I wouldn’t have.

twenty-five

. . .

Whitley

Ispot Violet standing on her porch when I pull up, her phone in one hand, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. I ease up the driveway, the engine of Beau’s Mustang purring loudly as I roll to a stop.

Violet looks up, does a full double take, and then mouths, “No way.”

I pop the door open with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

She slides in, eyes wide and glittering with disbelief as she takes in the leather interior, the perfectly polished dashboard, the subtle scent of cologne and horsepower. “You did not.”

“I absolutely did.”

“This is Beau’s Mustang.”

I grin, easing back onto the road. “Well, apparently, he makes exceptions for people he regularly makes a mess of.”

“What?! Have you guys been a thing since the wedding, and I didn’t know?”

I wince. “That’s…actually a really good question.”

Because if someone asked Beau, what would he say? That we’re friends? That I’m the woman he’s sleeping with until reality catches up to him?

My stomach tightens, but I force a smile before Violet notices. “Long story,” I say lightly. “I’ll tell you everything over coffee. I want one of those oat milk things that make me feel like I’m doing something good for my body while simultaneously dumping syrup down my throat.”

Within a few minutes, we’re pulling up to the little café downtown with twinkle lights strung across the windows and baristas who always write overly enthusiastic notes on your to-go cups.

I unbuckle, toss her a smug smile, and say, “Let’s caffeinate before we do damage. I’ve got awards night shoes to complain about.”

“And I’ve got questions. Many, many invasive questions.”

“Perfect. I’ve got very little shame, and a caffeine addiction to feed.”

The café is busy, but we order and snag a corner table by the window.

Violet waits exactly three seconds before leaning across the table, eyes wide. “Spill. Everything. Now.”

I take a long sip of my oat milk monstrosity, letting the sugar hit my bloodstream before I dive in. “Okay. So. You know how Beau and I had that whole…thing going on during the wedding?”

Violet nods. “Mmhmm. I think everyone there was aware.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh hush. But also…yeah. So after your reception, we did things.”

Violet’s eyebrows shoot up. “More than just hot tub things?”

“Vi, he carried me to the cottage like a caveman and then proceeded to ruin me.”