“I still say we need to throw a party!” Giselle insists. “We can do a combined bachelor and bachelorette party at an upscale club.” She stops talking, so I look up, and she’s giving Olivia the stink-eye. “And not at a strip club.”
A loud laugh escapes me as I remember not too long ago when Olivia convinced Nick to take her to Assets, a high-end strip club. I thought he was going to kill me when I surprised her with a lap dance. The poor guy wasn’t sure whether to be turned on or upset that his fiancée was thoroughly enjoying another woman grinding on her.
“No, not at a strip club,” Olivia agrees. “But it would be fun for all of us to go out and have a good time before we get married.” She looks at Nick, who of course nods in agreement. She could tell him she wants him to participate in a shit-eating contest and the guy would nod in agreement if it meant making her happy.
“Mind if I invite Jase?” Killian asks. It doesn’t go unnoticed that his gaze quickly meets mine before he looks away. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the mention of that name. Jase Crawford. The one who… I shake myself out of my thoughts, refusing to even finish that sentence. He doesn’t deserve a place in my thoughts, in my head, in my… Nope, not going there. He’s nothing more than a mistake from my past. A lesson learned the hard way.
“I saw him yesterday at the shop,” Killian says, “while getting some work done. Seems like he doesn’t get out much.”
“Of course he’s welcome to come!” Olivia says, speaking for Nick. “He’s also invited to the wedding.” Her hand comes up and rests on top of Nick’s. “After we ran into him on Giselle’s birthday, he and Nick have been keeping in touch again. Jax and Quinn are both invited as well.” Jax and Quinn are Jase’s brother and sister. They own a tattoo shop here in New York called Forbidden Ink. We went there the night of Giselle’s birthday so she and Olivia could get their first tattoo. Olivia chickened out, but Giselle ended up getting a beautiful quote across her upper back just below her nape.
“How many people are coming?” I ask, trying to remain calm, even though the reality of having to see Jase at the wedding has me feeling anything but. “I thought you were keeping it small and intimate.” Nick doesn’t speak to his parents, which only leaves Olivia’s family and their friends. She didn’t want something huge, which could easily happen since Nick’s a four-time Super Bowl champion and Olivia’s dad is an NFL coach. And then there’s her mom—who is no longer alive. She was a huge international supermodel—one I spent many years looking up to. So you can imagine how many people they’re acquainted with.
“Only about a hundred and fifty people. We’re still keeping it small.” She gives me a questioning look. “Jase isn’t in the wedding party if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not,” I say far too quickly. Everyone’s gazes swing over to me—except Chad, who’s still typing away on his phone. “I’m not,” I repeat in a tone that makes it clear to drop whatever they’re all thinking. It makes sense that Jase and his siblings are invited since Nick has been friends with them since high school.
“I like your new hair color,” Olivia says, changing the subject. “It makes you look less…harsh.”
“Less like an evil witch?” I wink, and she laughs. When Olivia and I first met, Nick referred to me as the evil witch in their story, and I’ve yet to live the nickname down. So I figure, if I can’t beat them, I might as well join them. But she’s right, the black hair gave me an edgier look, which is what the modeling agency I used to be signed with was going for. Since I’m no longer signed with anyone, and I’m free to do as I want with my hair, I dyed it back to my original color—a mahogany brown with hints of auburn mixed in.
“Yes! I mean you can totally pull off any color, obviously, but this color is really pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey Chad,” Giselle calls out from across the table. He looks up to see who said his name. “What do you think about Celeste’s hair?”
Chad looks over at me in confusion. “It looks nice,” he says with a shrug.
“What does?” she presses.
“Uh…the length?” he says, but it comes out more like a question. “Did you get it cut or something?”
“Actually, it’s a different color,” Giselle points out—with a big fake smile—before I can answer. It’s no secret my friends aren’t a fan of Chad’s. Olivia is too sweet to say anything mean, but Giselle has no problem calling him out.