Page 61 of Gin and Bear It

“I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about weddings—like the dress and the venues and all the bullshit events around them. Like this bridal shower or party or whatever. The average price for a wedding is absolutely insane and she’s throwing on random bullshit.” I put my phone down in my lap. “And my cousin wonders why she’s broke.”

“Good thing our wedding cost basically nothing.” He switches lanes as the GPS says we have a few miles to our exit.

“I mean, yeah, but we still have to go to this stupid thing. At least she explicitly said I wasn’t invited to her bachelorette party.” I roll my eyes. “I feel like this is a reason to humiliate us, somehow. Or get revenge since we haven’t seen the PI lately.”

“You really think she’s still stuck on it?” he asks. “I mean, we’re married. You have the hotel. As far as she can tell—or at least as far as the PI could tell—we’re for real. What is there to be mad about?”

“You don’t know the depths of her grudges.” I sigh and look out the window. “Maybe after the wedding she’ll calm down.”

We make our way through downtown and finally get to the hotel where we’re staying. It’s a little bit off Broadway, but it’s not sketchy. Ash carries our stuff to the front desk and handles the check-in process for us while I look around the lobby. I’m still surprised at how organized he is. He seems to rag on himself for not “having his shit together,” then proceeds to have his shit together more than I do.

We go upstairs to the room. I figured he booked a single room because that’s what people would expect, but the bed…

“One bed?” I ask. “Still?”

“King sized. There’s some conference in town, so pickings were slim.” He puts our bags down. “I figured it’d be fine since we’re used to it already.”

“Yeah.” I still haven’t found a good replacement couch that also folds out. He hasn’t complained, though.

He glances at the phone. “I can sleep on the couch if you want space again.”

“That?” I point to this “couch,” which is a glorified loveseat. “And fold yourself in half? We’re fine at home, so we’ll be fine here.”

He just shrugs. After the night when he almost fought that asshole at the bar, he’s looked at me differently. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but more like he’s trying to understand something. Did I do something wrong by checking on him?

I had to go see him after that. My heart was racing because of the asshole but fluttering like crazy because of how he kept me safe. That wasn’t part of our plan, and it’s softening parts of me that I wasn’t supposed to bring into the vicinity of Ash Stryker.

I know he’s not the same dickhead he was in high school, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely safe, either. Even if he goes on the attack for me.

“What time do we have to be at dinner?” he asks. I have no idea how long I’ve been in my own head.

“In about forty-five minutes.” I sigh. “I should get dressed. Or more dressed.”

I might be against the whole concept of a bridal shower (or whatever this thing can be called), but I’m not going to show up to this event underdressed. I do my makeup, adding more eyeshadow and a hot pink lipstick, and change into my going-out dress—we’ll be going straight from the restaurant to the club. It’s tighter than what I usually wear but not so revealing that I’ll be tugging on it all night. My shoes are just as comfortable, too, but add a few inches to my height. Both are pink, but different textures so it’s not too matchy.

I sigh and step into the room again. Ash is stretched out on the bed on top of the covers in jeans and a shirt. He has good taste—his shirt and jeans are nice, but he’s included a belt and some interesting rings that make his outfit more than just pants and a shirt. His eyebrows go up as he looks me over.

“Is it bad?” I ask.

“It’s extremely good.” He blows out a breath and swings his feet to the ground. “Shit, Jada.”

I suppress a smile, biting the inside of my cheek. The heat still makes its way up the back of my neck despite myself. “Thanks. Let’s go.”

We head downstairs, then take the short walk to the restaurant. Danika and her friends are in the entryway. And so is Kendra, to my relief.

“Hey, JJ.” She pulls me into a hug, pauses, then gives Ash a side hug. “Hi, Ash.”

“You’re not going to say hello to the bride?” Danika says before I even have a chance to greet her. She’s in a white sparkly dress so short that she’ll flash everyone if she even looks down.

I roll my eyes but force a smile to soften it as I give her a hug. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually liked my cousin, but ever since this stuff with the will went down, I’m even less of a fan. And I’ve never been able to hide that.

Her fiancé Scott nods in greeting and fades into the background with his friends. Danika goes right back to her conversations, like I’m not even here.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say, glancing at the main dining area of the restaurant. “Were bridal showers a thing when you got married?”

“You’re acting like I got married in the Stone Age.” Kendra snorts. “And yeah, but usually it was just a small event that my friend threw for me over brunch, no partners or spouses. Still didn’t fully get the point of them back then, either.”

“Yet you still came,” I say. “You could have had a legit excuse. You’re on call all the time.”