“Summer?” he follows, looking at me to save him from Mia. “Wouldn’t that be too hot though?”
“I can see it now.” She stares above waving her hand as the both of us look at each other confused. “A summer wedding. A floral theme. A beach wedding.”
“How about fall? I’m not really a beach-type person,” I say honestly.
“But you live next to the beach.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty. I just don’t like sand and sun on me.”
Drew places his arms around my shoulders massaging them while leaning in to kiss the top of my hair.
“Aww, you guys. It never gets old seeing you together. Let’s hope you can get through the wedding planning to make it down the aisle,” Mia jokes, laughing loudly.
“We’ll be fine. I’m not as anal as you.”
Drew coughs, and the dirty bastard almost chokes on his own saliva. I elbow him in the chest warning him that I know what he’s thinking—mind in the gutter along with my ass in which he thoroughly enjoys pleasuring.
“Don’t worry. Once you make it down the aisle, everything you fought about will be a distant memory.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Drew responds calmly. “Zo isn’t exactly a Bridezilla. I have every faith in her to make it down the aisle.”
I touch his hand that rests on my shoulder, pulling it close to kiss the top of his knuckles.
“You guys are so cute.” Mia smiles.
“Enough with the cute talk,” I complain, rolling my eyes. “Cute is what you call something small and furry that hops with tiny paws.”
She giggles. “Or Slater from work.”
The smile on Drew’s face instantly disappears, his hands resting still. “Who’s Slater?”
“This new guy at work. Total silver fox. Oh, and that accent.” She throws her head back resting it comfortably on the cushion overdramatizing the situation. “And get this. His last name is Richards. I almost died when he pulled out that comment ‘hope we’re not related.’”
She chuckles quietly, the only one in the room as I keep quiet. I’m not sure why because it was pretty funny.
“I guess you had to be there. I should go,” she says, oblivious to the tension mounting in the room.
Drew remains unusually quiet even when Mia slips into the kitchen and disappears from our apartment with a tray of food.
“Is it just me or does that woman have an obsession with weddings?” he asks.
I nod, agreeing. “Yes, she does.” I scroll through my phone and show him the text from her. She pretty much texted me nonstop since lunchtime the names and numbers of people and places who cater to weddings. Mia’s forgetting one important piece of information—I am not part of the royal family. I mean, swans. Really? Birds—plural—freak me out. Even those baby birds that look all cute chirping until they fly around your head ready to attack.
“Did you see this?” I point toward the contact number for The Birdman.
“Birds?” He laughs. “I can imagine you now breaking out in hives as you’re walking down the aisle.”
Letting out a groan, I throw myself onto the sofa and cover my chest with the soft cushion.
“Mia is—”
“Overwhelming?”
“Yes. There’s so much to do. Things I haven’t even thought about.”
“I’m sure we can plan this without much trouble. There’s no ‘I’ in team,” he adds sarcastically.
I smile. “You’re so lame.”