Page 56

“Maid of Honor One.”

“Why is Aura two?”

“Processional order.”

Aura pointed at me. “Do not defend her.”

“I’m not defending the system. I’m explaining the crime.”

Bliss folded both arms. “The numbers are logistical.”

“Then your shirt should say Bride Three,” Aura replied.

“There is one bride.”

“There’s about to be one maid of honor.”

Ryan laughed beside me, full enough this time that everyone near us heard it.

The group quieted for half a second before conversations resumed with exaggerated effort.

His laughter had always been rare. He smiled, smirked, and occasionally released something low and quiet when one of the guys caught him off guard, but the real sound belonged to people he trusted. Hearing it again after fifteen months made my chest ache beneath the pleasant warmth of alcohol.

Ryan noticed the shift in my expression.

“What?” he asked.

“You laughed.”

“I do that sometimes.”

“You used to deny it.”

“You used to say things worth denying.”

“I’m funnier now.”

“You’re louder now.”

“Is that a complaint?”

His gaze moved over my face and lingered near my mouth. “I haven’t decided.”

The air between us tightened, carrying the chemistry neither time nor anger had managed to kill. My body recognized the look in his eyes and remembered exactly what followed when we were alone.

The memory heated my skin beneath the alcohol.

I reached for my vodka before the moment became visible to everyone already pretending not to watch.

Ryan gave me a knowing look. “Careful, mami.”

The nickname struck low and hard.

I took a longer drink than necessary. “You don’t get to use that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You telling me what I get now?”

“I’m establishing cocktail-hour regulations.”