“Okay, now Jason, I want you to look toward the camera, remember you’re in love, all right? Good, good, now place your hand at the small of his back.”
“What the h?” I hissed in Jason’s ear.
“Shut it!” he whispered back. “The sooner we get done, the sooner the pictures are done, and I can go find Milo so she can render me blind!”
“Fine.” I clenched my teeth together.
“Oh, perfect, yes, that’s nice.” The camera went off. “Now, the other fella there, I want you to turn your head so that you’re almost touching noses.”
“I’m murdering you tonight—in your sleep,” I said through a tight smile.
Jason winced. “Not if Milo gets to me first.”
“Touché.”
“Lean in!” the photographer yelled.
I clenched my teeth. “Please tell me that you’re packing a gun.”
“Cell phone.”
“Thank God.”
“Now.” The photographer was right in front of our faces with the camera. “Just a little kiss on the cheek.”
“What?” I yelled and pushed away from Jason.
The photographer shook his head. “These pictures are forever, you know. You’re going to look back and wish you would have taken more intimate photos.”
“I highly, highly doubt that,” I grumbled under my breath, taking a tentative step toward Jason and wishing for alcohol to make me forget that I was about to touch my best friend in a familiar way.
“Just do it,” Jason hissed. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Fine.” I leaned in just as Jason leaned in, I turned my cheek but he went the opposite way, and ended up missing my cheek—only to land on my mouth.
The camera flashed.
“What are you guys doing?” Milo covered her mouth as her eyes watered with laughter.
“Oh.” The photographer turned. “Hello, I’m just taking some pictures of the happy couple.”
“Wow.” Milo grinned in approval. “That’s special. Hey, if I give you my e-mail address can you send me a few copies? And make sure the resolution is really clear, I’m thinking of making a poster.”
“Wait.” I pulled away from Jason. “I’m the best man.”
The photographer flushed, almost dropping his camera. “Ah, that explains it then.”
“Explains what?”
“No chemistry.” He shrugged. “No romance. I thought something was off—that was the worst wedding kiss I’d ever witnessed.”
I pointed at the photographer. “Hey, I’m attracted, it’s not like I don’t like my boy. It’s just not in that way.”
Yeah, wrong thing to say.
Milo burst out laughing. “No, Colton, really, keep going, it’s a romantic speech.”
“To hell with that!” I stalked toward Milo and pulled her in for a scorching kiss. My lips met hers with such force she stumbled backward. When I pulled away I looked at the photographer. “See? I like women.”
“No!” a voice wailed.
“You lying, cheating hussy!” Max screamed.
“Oh, dear God,” Jason moaned.
In that moment Jayne came around the corner with the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, her family members, and Grandma—escorted by Reid.
He smiled and waved.
Then again, he was probably still high. Note to self: lock his bedroom door tonight.
“Name your second!” Max shouted loudly, then winked like he wanted me to go along.
“That’s easy.” I rolled my eyes.
Jason puffed out his chest.
“Milo.”
“What?” He hit me.
“She’s more dangerous than you are by a long shot, admit it. Plus I figure if Max is going to shoot me it would be nice to fall into Milo’s arms before I die.”
Her breath hitched.
That’s right. I caused that reaction. Damn it, I was losing control of myself. What the hell had I been thinking? I just wanted to grab and kiss her before I even had a chance to prove to her how I felt.
“Fine, then I choose Jenna.” Max grinned.
“I feel left out,” Jason grumbled.
“You have one eye, you’re no longer welcome on Survivor island, and I’m pretty sure if we were in a plane crash—you’d get eaten first. Just sayin’.” Max raised his hands.
“Er, the pictures?” The photographer waved his camera.
“I’m ready!” Jayne interrupted our tense moment and latched herself on to Jason. “Let’s do this before my groom gets another black eye.”
Max leaned over to the photographer and whispered, “She beats him.”
“Oh, I see.” His cheeks burned red.
“But we don’t report her because he likes it—he’s one of those.” Max made a whipping sound and winked.
So everyone was drunk. Fantastic.
Milo was still staring at me, her face pale.
“Look, I’m sorry for kissing you.” I shook my head. “I just reacted and—”
She lifted her right hand, and I flinched, thinking she was going to slap me. Instead I was the happy recipient of a left hook.
“Shit!” My chin throbbed as I fell to my knees.
“Stop apologizing for kissing me!” With a tearful sob she yelled, “I’m not even engaged! It’s you! I love you, asshole! But right now I hate you. I hate you for making me feel like I’m convenient, but most of all I hate that it’s so easy for you to use me and then just put me back on the shelf. Do you think I’m happy there? Do you think I enjoy knowing what it’s like to be kissed by you, only to be rejected?”