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As I grab my purse, I continue studying my phone.

Confused, I notice that the picture isn’t in our message box. Backing out that box, I look at my messages, because I know I sent it.

Then… Then I turn a ghostly shade of white, because I did send it; I just didn’t send it to Ethan. Asshole and Allie’s Baby Daddy are too close together apparently, because somehow I sent that to Wren.

No. No. No! Oh no. Oh shit!

Dropping my keys and purse to the ground, I dial Allie immediately.

“You had so better not be backing out on tonight.”

“Allie, I really fucked up.”

“Did you use aftershave after the waxing again?” she muses. “I’ve never heard anyone else scream like that in real life.”

“Worse. I think I sent Wren a picture meant for Ethan. You have to get his phone and delete it before he sees it!”

“What kind of picture?” she asks too casually.

“What kind of picture would have me freaking out?” I shout too loudly, verging on hysterical as I pull the phone back and look at the picture closely.

Thank the heavens you can’t see my nipples through that lace. That would have just sent me on to the grave. And my vagina is pretty well covered. Again, I’m thankful for that.

When you feel gratitude because your nipples and vagina are covered in a picture you accidentally sent your best friend’s fiancé, you start questioning your life choices.

She bursts out laughing like she’s just understood what I’ve been saying, and I groan while putting the phone back to my ear. “Allie, damn it. Get his phone and delete it.”

“I can’t. His phone is with him at Ethan’s house. The guys are doing poker night.”

Oh no. How could I possibly forget he’d be there? I knew poker night was going on.

“Damn it, Allie. Go get his—”

“Hang on. Wren just forwarded something to me and sent a text.”

Oh no…

Silence becomes deafening, but I miss silence when Allie suddenly loses it, laughing so hard she can’t catch her breath. She even does that weird donkey laugh thing that embarrasses the hell out of her.

“He already got it,” she says between her cackles.

“No! Make him unsee it!”

“How can I make him unsee it? Oh! That’s what he forwarded. Damn! You look really hot in this picture. Are you working out or something?”

“Damn it, Allie, this is not the time to be cute. Make it go away, please.”

She’s still laughing, and I clutch my aching head. Damn it.

“I think he was worried I’d be upset if he didn’t send it to me or let me know he got that by mistake. Aww,” Allie says, still chuckling.

“How fucking awesome of him,” I say dryly, which only prompts her to laugh harder.

“Fucking eh. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

“You love me and you know it,” she croons, mocking me with her tone.

“I hate your fiancé.”


Tags: C.M. Owens Sterling Shore Romance