Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Mom?” I make a face.
“Too much?”
I giggle. “Yes. But you do look like a queen—both of England and of Destiny’s Child.”
She beams. “Thanks, sweetheart. And you look amazing yourself, you know.”
She nods at the lavender knee-length bridesmaid dress I’m in with the plunging back. Though fancy as hell, the wedding is small, and the wedding party itself even smaller. For bridesmaids, it’s just me, and Bobby just has his boys with him as groomsmen.
“So,” my mom eyes me in the mirror, a small smile on her lips. “How are you?”
I arch a brow. “Um, fine? Mom I think you’re the one who’s supposed to have pre-wedding jitters.”
She grins. “Eh, been there, done that. No jitters this time. Not with Bobby.”
She winks and I smile at her.
“No, I mean how are you. You know, with life? I feel like I’ve been so busy with planning this whole thing I haven’t checked in on you recently.”
“Mom, you never have to check in on me.”
“Right, no, I know you’ve got this whole life thing handled completely,” she says sarcastically, winking at me.
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
Yep, totally fine. It’s not like I’ve spent the last three freaking weeks obsessing about everything to do with Jamison and I. Thinking about him. Hating him. Wanting him. Having fever dreams about him. Waking up and hating myself all over again for them.
You know, fine.
“Ramona…” My mom says dryly.
“Hmm?”
She smiles as she moves behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders.
“Ramona, you are many, many things, and you’re so good at being so many of them.”
I smile widely. “Thanks, mo-”
“A liar is not one of them.”
My smile fades as she grins at me knowingly.
“So, are we going to talk about Jamison?”
“What? No? Why?” I blurt out.
She gives me another very knowing “mom” look, one brow cocked, and I blush.
“Mom, it’s nothing.”
“Yeah, it really doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“Can we drop this?”
“No?” She shrugs. “My wedding day, my rules.”
I groan.
“Honey, I know, okay? I’m not blind, or stupid. I saw the way you and Jamison were even growing up. It was part of the consideration on both Bobby and I’s parts before we decided to commit to being together.”
“What, that he was a massive dick to me?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, that he was crazy about you.”
“He teased me incessantly!”
“It’s that last word that tells you everything, honey.”
I pause, chewing on my lip.
“He teased you incessantly, you’re right. He was always coming up with ways to be around you, and tease you, and get you to pay attention to him. For years, Ramona. What kind of little boy does that?”
“An especially prickish one?”
She laughs. “Or one that just can’t walk away from a certain girl. No, Bobby and I both thought about that factor—you two—when we decided to move in together. I knew there was a chance of, well…” She wags her brows at me and my face burns as I look away.
“He’s…” I frown, shaking my head. “No, not with you and Bobby—”
“What about me and Bobby?”
I make a face. “Because he’s Bobby’s son?”
My mom shrugs.
“I mean, there’s been weirder. And it’s not that weird, honey.”
“Well, maybe I don’t do weird,” I mumble, looking away.
Mom rolls her eyes.
“So, what is this, Ramona? You don’t actually like him? Or it’s because his father and I are getting married today? Or, is because it’s complicated and messy, and you don’t ‘do’ that?”
I frown. “I do too.”
“Ramona, honey, no,” my mom smiles warmly at me. “You don’t. You like things ordered, and planned, and set out exactly how they’re supposed to be.”
“So? That’s just being prepared.”
“Right, and you weren’t prepared for Jamison, which is why you’re backing away.”
“I am not!”
I frown at my own outburst before I chew at my bottom lip.
“Okay, maybe I am,” I grumble. “But still. He’s an asshole.”
“Is he, though?”
“No, I guess not,” I say quietly.
The Melissa Cruz thing is bullshit, and I know it. Plus, Zara can be pretty freaking intimidating when she wants to be, and so can Kempton Carlisle from cheer. And the two of them apparently scared the shit out of Melissa, who fessed up that she was making everything up—about sleeping with Jamison and the whole “bet” thing.
…Maybe my mom is right.
“He’s just not right for me,” I say quickly, turning to pretend to be interested in fixing my hair in the mirror.
“Your hair’s fine, Ramona,” mom says with a smirk. “And why is he ‘just not right for you’?”
“I shrug. “Maybe we’re just cut from different cloth.”
“That’s a little snobby, don’t you think?”
“Well, come on!” I grumble. “The bad boy thing, the muscle car, the tattoos?”
“Bobby has tattoos.”
My brow furrows. “No, he doesn’t.”
“Not where you can see them.”
I blush furiously.
“Mom!”
She just laughs, grinning at me.
“Well, what else?”
“Besides all of that, he’s totally blowing off college! He didn’t do any of his essays or any of his applications! I checked, and they’re all still sitting on his desk in his room.”