The Wedding Game (Reality Show Book 1) by Amy Matayo

Author:Amy Matayo [Matayo, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: SYG Productions
Published: 2014-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

“If you sigh one more time, I’m going to throw this suitcase at you.” Ellie tossed a couple of tops in her bag and glared at Cannon. What was his problem? She hadn’t kissed the socks off of him out of pity. Who says something like that, anyway? You looked like you needed one. If Ellie could go back and slap his other cheek, she would. And now he was moving around like the walking wounded while Reid and his stupid camera captured the whole thing on film.

Cannon breathed a humorless laugh. “Since once again it appears to weigh about a thousand pounds, you wouldn’t be able to lift it. Are you almost ready?”

She said nothing. Just took her time unfolding and folding a pair of socks.

“So now we’re back to giving me the silent treatment, are we? That’s real mature, Ellie.”

She glanced up from folding a sweater, trying not to give him more than the briefest acknowledgement. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Starting now, I’m not talking to you anymore.” She tossed the sweater onto the pile and turned for her Notre Dame shirt. “But if I were talking to you,” she said, unable to shut up, “I would ask you why you’re so irritated since you’re the one who was such a jerk last night. But since I’m not talking to you, I won’t.”

“I’m married to a third grader,” Cannon said. “Well, since we’re playing this game, if I were talking to you, I would tell you that you’re the reason I’m mad, and that it takes one to know one. But as you said, since we’re not talking to each other, I won’t.” He turned toward the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, looking first to one side, and then the other. The perfect picture of nonchalance and arrogance. Ellie bit back a growl.

“Well, at least we’ve established that we’re not speaking. I, for one, am totally relieved.” It occurred to Ellie that they weren’t supposed to be fighting on film. It also occurred to her that she didn’t care. She picked up a new pair of black boots and began to stuff them inside a pocket in her suitcase.

“So am I.” He turned around and ambled toward her as the camera swung to follow him. Cannon planted his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But if I were talking to you, I might say that it isn’t every day that a guy finds out his wife is a two-timing little—”

Ellie snatched a boot and threw it at his chest, satisfied to hear his sharp intake of breath. “What do you mean, two-timing? I’ve never two-timed anyone!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn’t!”

Seriously, this conversation sounded just like one she remembered having in ninth grade with her friend Meagan over a boy with red hair and bad acne. After a knock-down drag-out that might’ve involved face scratching and hair pulling, within a week, neither of them even liked him anymore. Good thing, too, since his pimples never cleared up.

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