The Wedding Contract

“You mean alliteration, and yes, slay a sloth is my very own. It’s trademarked, so don’t go using it in your wedding vows.” We both laugh and Sophie falls on her back next to me.

We stare at the ornate ceiling and the way each curved line is painted in gold with spiraling flowers in the center. Someone stood there and painted that. Artists are so important and so totally shafted. Sophie’s room is the bridal suite. Everything is ornate and over the top pretty in here.

“I’m going to miss you.” Sophie shoves my arm and I grin at her. “Well, I already missed seeing you naked. How was the shoot? Was Ferro a creeper?”

Sophie’s sweet face pinches. “What are you talking about?”

“Nick, he said he was shooting your boudoir pictures last night. He came to get me and then, well, I fell out the window.” My eyebrows creep up my face. “He didn’t shoot you?”

Sophie shakes her head. “No, and I never said he could. What’s going on with you and him, Sky? Sometimes you get this look in your eye, like you might chop off his head, and other times, well—”

“There are no other times.”

“I’m your best friend, Sky. You can tell me.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to admit it to myself. Nick played me last night. It’s the second time I was stunned by his warm lips and hot hands. The thing is, I know it’s all an act, but my heart seems to have missed that memo. “He’s attractive, that’s all. Besides, you never answered my question.”

“You never answered mine.” Sophie sits up and looks at me, her hands on her knees. The bed dips where she sits as she waits for me to mirror her. I do and look her in the eye. It’s what we did when we were younger. It’s the truth stance. You can’t lie when you sit that way, feet tucked under your butt, and eye to eye with your bestie. “Do you like him?”

“Yes,” I grudgingly bite off the word. “Do you love Steven?”

She smiles slowly. “Yes. He’s quiet compared to you, Sky. That’s all. He isn’t like anyone I’ve ever known. Isn’t that what your husband is supposed to be?”

I nod. “You’re right.” I take her hands, “And I’m glad.”

“About Nick?”

“There’s nothing to tell. He used me.”

Sophie drops my hands and blurts out, “Oh my God! You had sex with him!”

“No! He kissed me.” My voice warbles and I look away.

“Oh no, Sky…” The way she says my name makes me look up. “You love him.”

“I do not! He’s just getting to me. It hurts because he doesn’t think of me that way. That’s all.”

Her eyes sweep my neck. “Where’s your kiss?” She means the thimble that’s usually on a chain around my neck. I didn’t put it back on after Nick gave it back to me. It seemed like a good time to stop dreaming that the right guy would come along. It happens for some people, just not me.

“I took it off.” I don’t explain and start to get up, but Sophie yanks my arm back.

“We are not done yet. You’ve worn that since you were twelve years old. Every day. Why’d you take it off?” Sophie stares me down, but I can’t tell her. “Sky, say it. I won’t judge.”

“I gave it to him. He gave it back. He calls me Wendybird.” Sophie’s jaw drops. She gets it. I stand and stomp around the room, not understanding why he locked me inside last night. My eyes sting like I might cry.

I blurt out, “I thought he understood me and I know he’s at least read that book. He knew the thimble was a kiss and he gave it back. And when he kissed me for real, I could barely breathe. My heart beat up when his beat down. I noticed. Everything was perfect, but he’s a player and I’m not. It’s one-sided, Soph. Don’t read into it, please. You’ll only make it harder for me.”

“What do you mean?”

I cringe. “Your cousin’s bet…”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Nick and I have a second bet going.” I stare blankly as I talk, my eyes slipping over the closet doors and their golden pulls. “I bet some things I shouldn’t have.” My heart beats faster thinking about it.

“What’d you bet?”

Turning, I look her in the eye and cringe. “Me.”

Sophie’s eyes turn into basketballs as she gasps. “Why would you? How could you do that? I mean, are you insane? You like him, so you bet against yourself so you can sleep with him? What the hell is wrong with you?” I’ve never seen her this mad.

“I don’t know, Sophie. I just know that when Nick is around, I feel more alive. I feel this pull to him. It’s like he’s a magnet and I’m a piece of scrap metal. I can’t stay away from him. His voice makes me warm and happy—at least, when he’s not pretending to be his usual, asshole self.”

“So, the guy who sang like a fool so you could get your shot—you love that guy?”

I nod. “Yeah, but he’s buried under mountains of Ferro pride and power. That guy is a shadow. He’s not real.”

“Is this a Peter Pan metaphor?” Sophie blinks at me and her brow scrunches as she tries to figure it out.

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