Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
"She does have raccoon eyes,” Presley notes from the middle of the bed, and I laugh at her.
"Whatever, at least my hair is real." I point at her, seeing one of her extensions hanging by a thread.
Shelby sits up from the other side of the bed. "What the hell happened?" We all gasp when we see that her lip is bleeding. "Why do I taste metal?"
"You're bleeding,” my mother says, throwing her hands up in the air. "One time," she huffs as she runs out of the room to the bathroom. "All I asked for is to make one time go smoothly." She comes back in with a wet rag and hands it to Shelby, who puts it on her lip for a second and then takes it off, gasping when she sees the light pink. She gets up and storms over to the mirror, looking at her lip. "Just one time, can I be calm on the day of the wedding?"
"Relax," I say, standing up and falling on the bed. "Everything is fine." I lie back down on the pillow. "Everyone gets drunk before their wedding."
"Really?" my mother huffs. "Name one person." She puts her hands on her hips.
"Shelby," I declare, pointing over Presley toward Shelby, who turns and looks at us.
"That was because my fiancé was fucking someone else," she retorts, turning back to look in the mirror. "Oh my God, it's getting bigger." She points at her lip.
"I think I need to shower," I say, getting up. "Maybe that will help."
I stand, and the room spins again. "I might need to maybe eat something." I walk out to the bathroom.
"You have five minutes!” my mother yells from the bedroom as I close the door and start the shower. I don't even look in the mirror. Instead, I just get in the shower and let the water cascade all around me. Last night was amazing, and all the nerves went out the window the minute I walked down the aisle. He was my choice because I loved him. He treated me like a princess, and when I held his hand in mine, there was a calmness to it. He wanted me more than anything, and every single day, he has proved it to me. I am going to spend the rest of my life showing him that he chose the right woman.
"Here." Presley opens the door as soon as I turn off the water. "You need to wear this." She puts the satin set on the counter.
I look at her in her own satin set that looks like she got it from under her bed. "What happened to that one?" I point at her.
"I forgot it in my bag last night, and I wanted to steam it, but ‘let’s do shots,’" she mimics me, "happened. Well, it's fine. I'll steam it once we get to the bridal suite."
"Is mine like that?" I ask, picking up mine and seeing the creases from it just being taken out of the box.
"It's fine," she hisses. "Just hurry up. The car is here."
I walk out of the bathroom two minutes later and hear Presley yelling for me. "Can we get on with the program?" I walk down the stairs, looking over at Shelby, who is wearing an eye mask around her mouth.
"What the heck is that?" I point at her and try not to laugh.
"It's the only thing that I can think of to help slow down the swelling." She throws her hands up. "Can we just get going?" She opens the door and stops, making Presley and me look over at her. "What is this?" She bends down, and I see a brown bag there. "Who the hell ordered McDonald's?"
I gasp. "That was me." I push her aside and look down at not one but two big bags. "I forgot about this."
"When the fuck did you order this?" Presley leans down and grabs the bag.
"I asked you if you wanted to eat; you said get me a burger," I remind her. "And then the phone fell on your face when you tried to put in your order."
"Oh, yeah," she says. "But"—she gasps—"we ordered forty-seven burgers."
"No." I shake my head. "I put four burgers and seven fries." I grab the bill from her.
"Well, according to that,” Presley states, "you ordered forty-seven burgers and one french fry."
"I told you that you need to wear glasses,” Shelby chides from beside me, and I glare at her.
"The one looks like a seven," I huff, picking up the bag of food and grabbing a burger.
"You aren't going to eat that?" Presley asks me while she grimaces. "It's been outside since three o’clock."
I open the wrapper and smell it. "It smells okay. Mom, can I eat a burger that’s been outside since three o’clock?"
"Yes," she says, walking out of the house. “If one wants to have food poisoning."