ONE
“Are you okay?”Del asked me. She was absolutely fucking gorgeous in her lace wedding dress, and glowing with happiness despite the messy platinum bun on her head and the slight smearing of makeup beneath her eyes.
Was I okay?
It crossed my mind to lie. To put on a face, and act like I was happy too, like my life was perfect. I’d started traveling in an attempt to find myself, and now… now, I felt like I’d lost whatever shreds of myself I’d once known.
“No,” I said honestly.
Then, I lifted the glass of root beer in front of me, and swallowed the entire contents. My face contorted when I’d managed to get it all down. “Seriously, this is not wedding appropriate shit.” I shook the empty glass toward my best friend.
“Why don’t I get you something more appropriate, then?” a sexy, growly voice behind me drawled.
My back stiffened.
Men.
Ugh, they were always popping up at the absolute worst moment.
“Do I need to grab my pepper spray, Delly?” I drawled back, without turning to look at whatever horny bastard had decided to come flirt with me and the bride.
Del grinned at the jerk, though, as she said, “Nah. Zed’s probably on board with you when it comes to the wedding-appropriate drinks.”
Zed dropped into the chair next to me, and put a bottle of red wine down on the table beside my hand. “You won’t regret drinking this,” he told me.
I didn’t feel him checking out my boobs or any other part of me like most assholes did, but that didn’t mean he was a good guy.
“I will when I can’t make my escape,” I shot back, jingling my keys toward him. “I’ve got a plane to catch when this shitshow ends.”
“Jay,” Del warned, leaning toward me. “You might not approve, but this is still my wedding. Don’t be a bitch.”
She was right; I was being bitchy.
It was nothing against her; I’d shown up to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life, only to see my best friend, who always wallowed in misery with me, grinning at one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen like he was something out of a fairytale.
Considering he’d been looking at her the same way, maybe he was.
She had said they were literal werewolfy soulmates, and even though I didn’t really buy into that shit, after watching them together I kind of believed her.
And I’d known werewolves were real for about a year after a video came out on the internet about them, so that part didn’t trip me up.
I owed Del an apology, but I’d rather give it when we were in private, after the damned perfect wedding ceremony was over.
I sighed, and held a hand toward Zed. “Give me the wine.”
“Nope. It’s mine now.” He lifted it to his lips, tilting the bottle back.
Guess I was right about him.
“Asshole,” I grumbled, turning to glare at him.
Then our eyes met.
And his turned red.
“We’ve got it,” Del’s prince charming promised.
What the hell?