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He shoots me a tight smile before walking back to the pajama rack and pulling the unicorn onesie back out.

I bite my bottom lip, trying so hard to keep a straight face … but a giggle erupts from my mouth. “You’re actually going to wear that?”

“It’s the only size large they have left!” he says defensively.

Internally, I prepare myself to see my bestie in his briefs again tonight. Because the man’s temperature runs hot, and there’s no way he can sleep in that fluffy onesie. But the fact he’s even willing to put it on to make me feel more comfortable … gives me that weird little flurry in my belly.

The flurry that needs to go away and never come back. Because flurries for Brooks Windell won’t lead to anything good.

Mildred slips out from the dressing room, looking like the queen that she is. Her ballgown-style wedding dress fits perfectly around her tiny waist.

Everyone in the room, including myself, gasps.

My mother rushes toward her. “Mildred Annelise, you’re a vision! You’re absolutely perfect.” She places her hands on Mildred’s waist, wearing a look of concentration on her face as if she’s internally measuring my sister. “You know,” she begins before getting a dreamy, far-off look in her eyes. “When I married your father, my waist was nineteen inches. Can you believe that?” She huffs out a laugh after her humble brag. “He could literally wrap his hands around my waist and his fingers would touch each other!”

Mildred looks at me with a knowing, albeit annoyed, glance. We’ve heard this a million times. My mother has a master’s degree, two daughters, and has helped my father grow his insurance company exponentially. But her crowning achievement in life? (According to her.) Having a nineteen-inch waist twenty-something years ago.

Mildred smiles at our mother before brushing off her comment and continuing to admire herself in the mirror.

My sister’s other two bridesmaids and I are squished onto a white couch in the town’s only bridal boutique. They were kind enough to let us use the space even though Mildred ordered all the dresses from a designer in France. The shop is tiny but cute, decorated in bright whites with gold accents. They have some gorgeous dresses here too, but, of course, they weren’t good enough for my sister.

I’ve never even met my sister’s other bridesmaids, and I’m pretty sure she chose them for their looks more so than their relationship to her. I’m the only brunette in the room, which makes me thankful Mildred hasn’t asked me to dye my hair blonde … yet. The aesthetic is important after all. My mind goes to Brooks, wishing I could shoot him a knowing glance and he’d somehow know exactly what I was thinking and we’d both snicker and be reprimanded by my mother.

Trying to get Brooks out of my head, I stand and walk up to my sister. “You really are the most gorgeous bride,” I say honestly, because she’s bridal-magazine-level perfection.

She grins and smooths her hands down her hand-beaded dress. “Thanks, Molly.”

The seamstress comes over and ensures everything is just right and shows us how to bustle the long train on the back of the gown before Mildred sweeps back into the dressing room with a few shop assistants.

When she returns, my mother shoos me and the other bridesmaids into the dressing rooms. “Now, the bridesmaids. Everyone must look flawless for Mildred’s big day!”

I smile tightly, wishing I would’ve drunk some of that champagne the shop assistants offered me earlier. I know the dress will be gorgeous; I’d expect nothing less since my sister and mother have excellent taste. The feeling of dread is simply because my mother always seems to find some flaw in me, like I’ll never be as perfect as my sister.

Grabbing the red silky dress, I glide my fingers over the buttery-soft fabric. It’s stunning, and the craftsmanship is amazing. I undress and slip the dress over my head, the fabric tumbles down over my body. The dress dips low in the back, stopping just above my derriere. Tiny straps lace up the back in a criss-cross pattern to my neck, where they connect to a high neckline. It takes me a minute to get the dress laced up, but when I look at the final result, I’m impressed. This is the most incredible dress I’ve ever worn, and it fits my curves just right. It’s sexy yet classy at the same time.

I turn to look at my backside in the mirror. The dress accentuates that area in a very nice way. I nod my approval in the mirror. “Not bad, Vanderbilt, not bad,” I mutter to myself. That sounds just like something Brooks would say … Heat rushes to my cheeks as I recall his comment about me having a good butt. I wonder if he’ll notice my butt in this dress?

I roll my eyes at the thought, because of course he won’t. We don’t look at each other like that. Or at least I never did until this past week. This fake boyfriend thing is getting to my head.

I take a deep breath and open the curtain to show the dress to my mother and sister. The other two bridesmaids are already dressed. Their names sound exactly the same, but I can’t remember what they were … Kinsleigh and Kayleigh? Marleigh and Beverleigh? Definitely something ending in eigh.

Mildred squeals, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. My mother rubs her temples and places an arm on her shoulder, urging her to stop. “Darling, my nerves cannot handle the shrieking.”

Mildred ignores her and rushes toward us. “Oh my gosh, you girls look hot! Not as hot as I look in my dress. But still, super hot.” She twirls one finger in the air. “Spin for me!”

We all do a little spin to humor her, striking poses and being ridiculous. She squeals again, causing my mother to grimace dramatically. “You guys are going to look so great with your bouquets!”

My mother comes over toward me like a lynx stalking its prey … or judging it. I swallow slowly, steeling myself for her commentary. She absentmindedly taps her index finger on her lower lip as she studies me. Once she’s walked a full circle around me, she finally speaks. “Sweetheart.” She lowers her voice, “Yours is a little tight in the back.” She shakes her head and gives me a sympathetic look. “We may want to eat a little less tiramisu, hm?”

Mildred and the other girls pretend not to hear her remark, but I can see their subtle glances in our direction.

“Right,” I huff out an uncomfortable laugh. “Only protein shakes for me for the next few days, huh?” The words come out sounding a lot more sarcastic than I had planned.

My mother flinches at my words, like she’s surprised I’d disagree with her. And usually I wouldn’t, at least not outwardly. Brooks must be rubbing off on me.

“Well,” she says in a snippy tone. “We better get back to the cabin in time to greet the rest of the wedding party. Everyone should arrive within the hour.” She looks directly at me as she says it. I can only assume she’s hinting that I should be there to welcome Todd. Except he has his own date, so that would be incredibly weird.

I smile at her in response, not knowing what to say.