“Wow. You look amazing,” Brooke states as her sister takes her place on her pedestal and begins to twirl slowly.

“It’s beautiful right?” She shakes her hands out by her side and I can tell she’s nervous.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Is it weird that I have no desire to try on any other dresses? I mean, this is the first one I put on and I feel like this is it. I can see myself marrying Ian in this. Maybe I should try on more.”

“Fuck that. Who cares if it’s the first one you try on. You look amazing in it. Like crazy amazing. I can totally see you marrying Ian in this dress,” I reply and see the tension leave her shoulders. Leave it to Juls to worry about the standards of bridal gown shopping. Her smile widens in the mirror and I can tell she’s on to something. “What?” She quickly hops down and slips back into her dressing room.

“Damn it. I wanna get married. There better at least be some hot groomsmen for me to fool around with at this thing,” Brooke grunts.

“The best man is off limits, just so you know,” I reply and she squints at me.

Juls reemerges with another gown in her hands and walks over to me, thrusting it into my arms. “Here, try this on.”

“What? Are you crazy?” She must be if she thinks I’m slipping into a wedding gown. “I am not trying on a wedding dress.”

“Why not? This would look amazing on you, right Brooke?” Oh for Christ’s sake.

Brooke steps up and admires the gown. “She’s right, Dylan. It’s a halter and you always look amazing in halter dresses with those boobs of yours. Remember prom? God, I fucking hate you both.”

I back up. “You are both nuts. There’s no way I’m putting that thing on or any other wedding dress for that matter. I’m pretty sure I’d seal my fate as being perpetually single if I did.” This was an honest fear. Karma has been increasingly hostile towards me lately and I can see her crossing her arms and stomping her foot at me now, daring me to push my luck.

“Oh come on, Dyl. Brooke will try some on too right, Brooke?” We both look at her sister who is sulking on her pedestal.

“Whatever. I fucking hate weddings.”

I shake my head and turn back to Juls who is staring me down. “No.”

She stomps her foot and grits her teeth. “Excuse you, but as maid of honor you’re supposed to do everything I ask.”

“And that includes trying on wedding gowns? Are you mental?”

She frowns big time at me and I melt. Damn it. “Fine, give me the stupid thing.” I rip it from her hands and march with fury to my dressing room as she squeals in delight. This is insane and completely ridiculous. After stripping out of my maid of honor dress, I annoyingly step into the wedding gown and slowly zip it up, my eyes widening as I gaze down at myself. “Oh shit.” I whisper, obviously not low enough because Juls rips open the curtain.

“Wow. You look incredible.” She pulls me from my room and pushes me up onto the pedestal as Brooke walks up behind me.

“Damn, Dylan. Would it be weird to put that shit on hold indefinitely?”

I smile subtly at her comment and gaze at my reflection. My chest tightens at the sight of myself. Me, in a wedding gown, and I look amazing. Crap. I’m covered in lace from my detailed halter down to my train. I was never a fan of lace but right now, standing in this dress, I’m a huge fan. A clicking sound comes from behind me and I turn to see Juls taking a picture of me with her phone. “What the hell?”

“Oh relax. I won’t send it to any sexy CPAs or anything. It’s just for us.” I can’t imagine what would happen if Reese got a hold of that picture. He’d probably freak the fuck out and end things for sure. Talk about being clingy. “Seriously, Dylan, look at us.” Juls hops up onto my pedestal and grabs my hand, linking it with hers. Besides the fact that we are both standing in wedding gowns, humorously, we’re complete opposites in appearance. Juls with her dark brown straight hair and me with my uber blond naturally wavy mess, her piercing blue eyes contrast with my wide brown ones that seem to take up the majority of my face, and she’s a good three inches taller than me as I stand up on my toes to bring me up to her 5’9 height. “Goof. I’m getting married, Dyl.”

“You are and I’m not, so I’m getting the fuck out of this thing.” She giggles as I hop down and slip back into my dressing room. But before I take it off, I admire myself alone for a brief moment. I’ve never given much thought to getting married. Having only been in one serious relationship, Justin never appealed to me as the marrying kind which now seems ironic since he is married. Just not happily, or faithfully. But standing in this dress right now, for the first time in my life I can picture myself walking down the aisle towards the one person I want to spend my life with. And before I can put a face to that one person, I slip out of the dress and back into reality.

After saying goodbye to Juls and her sister, I spend the rest of the day keeping myself busy with a massive amount of baking. Seven dozen muffins, six batches of cookies, and an assortment of pastries later, I finally slip upstairs and crash, passing out immediately.

**

I wake up cranky and miserable on Sunday morning, having experienced one of the shittiest nights of sleep I’ve ever had. I tossed and turned all night, my usual dreams of Reese and I together replaced with him and a string of women with red hair who he’s fucking relentlessly. I wake up constantly drenched in sweat and when I pass back out, another redhead replaces the previous one. I chalk it up to the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from him since Friday afternoon and I’m in desperate need of my fix. But he hasn’t called me or texted and I have no fucking clue how to interpret that. Coming from a man who pursued the shit out of me, sending me sweet notes and packages, and texting me daily. And now, nothing. Panic runs through me that I’ve actually royally fucked this up by telling him I needed time to think. But time to think doesn’t mean leave me alone. It just means what it means. That I’ve been thinking, which I have and I’m done with.

I’ve decided that I’m done being pissy over the photos I received Friday because it’s not doing me any good. It wasn’t his fault and knowing him, I’m sure he’s dealt with that spiteful bitch to prevent any future deliveries from her. I have no right to be mad or jealous about his previous hookups, especially since we’re not serious. And I’ve also decided that I’m okay with that. This is what Reese wants, the only thing he does, and I’m having fun doing it with him. I refuse to let my emotions screw this up because this, what we’re doing, is the best thing I’ve ever done with a man. He’s sweet and fun and hot as hell. And he chose me. Of all the girls lining up, he chose me. What we’re doing is enough for him and it can be enough for me. I don’t need to be in a serious relationship to be happy, I’ve never been this happy before in my life. The sound of my phone ringing sends me sprinting up the stairs where I plugged it in before I decided to organize my pantry. Disappointment runs through me as Juls names flashes across my screen.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you meet me, like right now, sweets? I really need to talk to someone and I want it to be you.” She sounds upset. Juls never sounds upset.