Wedding Mayhem by Alina Jacobs

Author:Alina Jacobs [Jacobs, Alina]
Language: eng
Format: epub

The Uber pulled up in front of the address Chris had given me after I’d settled the tab at the bar. Normally I was pretty thrifty and would have taken the subway, but it would have been a long ride, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone with Chris for that amount of time. As it was, being in the back seat of the Uber was a lot. He smelled so freaking fantastic—sharp and masculine, with a hint of juniper.

“You live here?” I asked uncertainly as the Uber pulled away, leaving us standing in front of an honest-to-goodness tenement house. Chris heaved his shoulder against the metal front door, and I followed him up the narrow staircase, heart pounding.

Maybe this is it. He’s a serial killer, and I’m going to end up chained in a basement.

“Welcome to my home,” he said, opening a door to an apartment on the eighth floor.

I was breathing hard after walking up all those stairs and tried not to be too obvious as I wheezed for breath.

You need to cut back on the chili cheese fries.

“This is cozy,” I said charitably, trying to pull myself together, and looked around. It was dingy and tiny.

“It’s crowded when all my roommates are here,” Chris said cheerfully, heading over to a window and pulling open the blinds.

“Killer view though,” I said. “My apartment has a view of a cinderblock wall.”

“Put up some mirrors,” Chris suggested.

“No, like it’s literally a wall two inches from my window. Someone goofed when they were building the apartment next door.” I rested my elbows on the windowsill and peered out over the skyline. “I wish I had this view.”

“This doesn’t bother you?” Chris asked me, head slightly tilted.

“The apartment?”

He shrugged. “Everything? I have no money, live in a crappy place, you had to buy my drinks—”

I gave him a wry smile. “I think escorts who look like you probably go for like five hundred dollars a night at least.”

“So you just want to sleep with me.”

“I mean, yeah?” I said. “It’s not like we’re getting married or anything.”

“Why, because I don’t have any money?” Chris demanded.

Aaaand of course this guy is nuts.

Just keep him calm.

I started edging slowly toward the door, turning up my customer-service persona to a thousand. Chris was the bride’s elderly doddering aunt who wanted to know why she was seated next to the cousin that had stolen their grandmother’s prized ashtray. And I had to talk her down from going after the woman with a fish knife.

“It’s not about the money,” I said soothingly. “We don’t even know each other. Though I’d totally like to!”

Not.

“You seem like a great guy who likes the simple life. I appreciate that.”

Chris visibly relaxed as I took another shuffle toward the door.

“Good,” he said and nodded to himself. “You’ll do great.”

I took another shuffle.

Chris removed his sweater.

I paused mid shuffle to drool at the washboard abs, the bulging biceps, and the pecs that I wanted to run my hands over.

“I have condoms in my purse,” I blurted out as he undid his pants.

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