The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (32 page)

BOOK: The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession
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“Oh, come on, Dyl. Brooke will try some on too, right, Brooke?” We both look at her sister who is sulking on her pedestal.

“Whatever. I fucking hate weddings.”

I shake my head and turn back to Juls who is staring me down. “No.”

She stomps her foot and grits her teeth. “Excuse you, but as maid of honor you’re supposed to do everything I ask.”

“And that includes trying on wedding gowns? Are you mental?”

She frowns big time at me and I melt.
Damn it.
“Fine, give me the stupid thing.” I rip it from her hands and march with fury to my dressing room as she squeals in delight.
This is insane and completely ridiculous.
After stripping out of my maid of honor dress, annoyed, I step into the wedding gown and slowly zip it up, my eyes widening as I gaze down at myself. “Oh, shit,” I whisper, obviously not low enough because Juls rips open the curtain.

“Wow. You look incredible.” She pulls me from my room and pushes me up onto the pedestal as Brooke walks up behind me.

“Damn, Dylan. Would it be weird to put that shit on hold indefinitely?”

I smile subtly at her comment and gaze at my reflection. My chest tightens at the sight of myself. Me, in a wedding gown, and I look amazing.
Crap.
I’m covered in lace from my detailed halter down to my train. I was never a fan of lace, but right now, standing in this dress, I’m a
huge
fan. A clicking sound comes from behind me and I turn to see Juls taking a picture of me with her phone. “What the hell?”

“Oh, relax. I won’t send it to any sexy CPAs or anything. It’s just for us.” I can’t imagine what would happen if Reese got a hold of that picture. He’d probably freak the fuck out and end things for sure.
Talk about being clingy.
“Seriously, Dylan, look at us.” Juls hops up onto my pedestal and grabs my hand, linking it with hers. Besides the fact that we are both standing in wedding gowns, humorously, we’re complete opposites in appearance. Juls with her dark brown, straight hair and me with my uber blonde, naturally wavy mess, her piercing blue eyes contrast with my wide brown ones that seem to take up the majority of my face, and she’s a good three inches taller than me as I stand up on my toes to bring me up to her five foot nine height. “Goof. I’m getting married, Dyl.”

“You are and I’m not, so I’m getting the
fuck
out of this thing.” She giggles as I hop down and slip back into my dressing room. But before I take it off, I admire myself alone for a brief moment. I’ve never given much thought to getting married. Having only been in one serious relationship, Justin never appealed to me as the marrying kind, which now seems ironic since he
is
married. Just not happily, or faithfully. But standing in this dress right now, for the first time in my life, I can picture myself walking down the aisle toward the one person I want to spend my life with. And before I can put a face to that one person, I slip out of the dress and back into reality.

After saying goodbye to Juls and her sister, I spend the rest of the day keeping myself busy with a massive amount of baking. Seven dozen muffins, six batches of cookies, and an assortment of pastries later, I finally slip upstairs and crash, passing out immediately.

I wake up cranky and miserable on Sunday morning, having experienced one of the shittiest nights of sleep I’ve ever had. I tossed and turned all night, my usual dreams of Reese and I together replaced with him and a string of women with red hair who he’s fucking relentlessly. I wake up constantly, drenched in sweat and when I pass back out, another redhead replaces the previous one. I chalk it up to the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from him since Friday afternoon and I’m in desperate need of my fix. But he hasn’t called me or texted and I have no fucking clue how to interpret that. Coming from a man who pursued the shit out of me, sending me sweet notes and packages, and texting me daily. And now, nothing. Panic runs through me that I’ve actually royally fucked this up by telling him I needed time to think. But time to think doesn’t mean leave me alone. It just means what it means. That I’ve been thinking, which I have, and I’m done.

I’ve decided I’m done being pissy over the photos I received Friday because it’s not doing me any good. It wasn’t his fault and knowing him, I’m sure he’s dealt with that spiteful bitch to prevent any future deliveries from her. I have no right to be mad or jealous about his previous hook ups, especially since we’re not serious. And I’ve also decided I’m okay with that. This is what Reese wants, the only thing he does, and I’m having fun doing it with him. I refuse to let my emotions screw this up because this, what we’re doing, is the best thing I’ve ever done with a man. He’s sweet and fun and hot as hell. And he chose me. Of all the girls lining up, he chose me. What we’re doing is enough for him and it can be enough for me. I don’t need to be in a serious relationship to be happy; I’ve never been this happy before in my life. The sound of my phone ringing sends me sprinting up the stairs where I plugged it in before I decided to organize my pantry. Disappointment runs through me as Juls’ names flashes across my screen.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you meet me, like right now, sweets? I really need to talk to someone and I want it to be you.” She sounds upset. Juls never sounds upset.

“Yeah, of course. Where?”

“The coffee shop on West Elm okay? I’m only five minutes away.”

“Okay, I’m leaving now.”

I hang up and dress quickly, grabbing my keys and locking up behind me as I dash around the corner where I keep Sam parked. Juls’ voice is really worrying me and I want to get to her as fast as I can. She’s never upset. Her two favorite emotions are elated happiness, which is frequent lately after Ian came into her life, and pissed off hurricane Juls mode. The drive to Brocks Coffee Shop is a short distant from the bakery and I park behind her black Escalade, hopping out quickly and dashing into the building. I spot her at a table in the corner, her dainty hands wrapped around a coffee cup.

“Hey. Sorry if you’ve been waiting long. Fucking traffic.”

“No, I just sat down. Do you want something to drink?” Typical Juls, always concerned about other people and not what’s bothering her. God, love her for it.

“No, I’m fine. What’s wrong? You sounded upset on the phone.”

She glances down into her mug. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ian and I went out yesterday after I dropped you off and checked out some wedding venues and reception halls, and I just didn’t care. Like at all. I mean, what the fuck? I’ve been dreaming about my wedding day since I was six.” Her eyes fill up with tears as she turns them up to me. I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “I love weddings, everything about them. That’s why I became a wedding planner. But when it comes to my own wedding, it’s like I have zero opinion about anything. I don’t care whether or not we get married in a church or if it’s an outdoor ceremony. I don’t care what music I walk down the aisle to or what favors the guests will receive or what my cake looks like, no offense.”

My lips curl up into a smile. “None taken.”

“I don’t even care who the hell is invited. All I care about is marrying him. As long as Ian’s there, that’s
all
I care about.” She blinks and her tears fall down her cheek. “Dylan, honestly, do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “No, not at all. I think you’re focusing on the
only
thing that matters. Who cares about everything else?” My hand squeezes hers and she smiles. “I kind of love how marrying Ian is the only thing that matters to you, because it’s the only thing that
should
matter. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with this man who clearly worships the ground your pretty little feet walk on, so who gives a shit what the fucking centerpieces look like or what the dinner options are for the guests. Fuck the guests.” She bursts out laughing and shakes her head at me and most likely herself for thinking this way. Although, I am a little shocked she doesn’t have a few things she’s dead set on.

“I love you, Dylan. You really are the only person who understands me.”

Leaning back, I cross my legs under the table. “Well, and Ian, I’m sure. So what does he say about all this?”

She takes a quick sip of her coffee. “He keeps saying ‘whatever you want, babe,’ which would be perfect if I had any opinions at all. I kind of wish he would just take over and make all the decisions, because if he leaves it up to me, nothing’s going to get done. Except my dress choice, of course.”

“Of course, and what a dress. Does that thing even need to be altered, because it fit you perfectly?”

“Hmmm, so did yours, both of them.” She pulls out her phone and swipes the screen a few times before handing it over.

I glance down at the picture of me staring at my reflection in the lace halter dress.
Jesus, it looks good.
“I should make you delete this in front of me.” I hand her back her phone.

“Not a chance in hell.” She slips it back away, quickly so I don’t grab it and delete it myself, I’m sure. “What’s new with Reese? You heard from him since the picture incident?”

My stomach knots up and I sigh loudly, rubbing my hands down my face. “No, not a peep. But I guess the distance is good right now. We really shouldn’t be attached at the hip.”

“Dylan.”

I glance up at her serious face. “Julianna.” I never call her by her full name and can barely say it without smiling.

She rolls her eyes. “Are you in love with him?”

I lean my elbows onto the table and cover my face with my hands. After a slow exhale, I reply honestly, “I don’t know. I feel like I’m putting a lot of energy into
not
falling in love with him, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” I glance over at her. “For a guy who normally doesn’t do the relationship thing, I think he’d be damn good at it. But how stupid would I be to fall in love with someone who doesn’t do anything serious? I’d just be setting myself up for a major heartbreak, right?” I begin to rub my temples as she fights a smile. “I’ve never loved any man before. Definitely not Justin. But with Reese? Fuck, I don’t know.”

She leans forward and rubs my arm. “Just because he’s never done relationships before or anything besides casual fucking, doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of doing it. Dylan, for Christ’s sake. The man is crazy about you. Everyone can see that.”

“He’s crazy about fucking me.” I glance around quickly to make sure my heightened voice didn’t draw any unwanted attention. “That’s all this is.”

“You’re really fucking stupid if you think that’s true. Just grow a pair and tell him how you feel already.”

I shake my head at her and purse my lips as she sips her coffee. Of course Juls doesn’t understand where I’m coming from here. She and Ian have been more than serious since they started dating. A thought that’s been running through my mind since Friday comes streaming back. Why
did
Reese end it with that red headed pyscho? Was it because she wanted more, that she was in love with him and he didn’t or couldn’t feel the same way? I can’t help but think the same fate is lined up for me if I were to let myself fall, so I won’t. I’m going to keep those unwanted feelings buried deep inside me for now, until maybe he eventually decides he wants more.
Please, God, let him want more.

I crawl into bed Sunday night after getting a bite to eat with Juls. We both wanted more than just coffee in our system and ate at a local Thai place that we frequent often. I wrap myself up in my comforter and the University of Chicago T-shirt that Reese lent me and stare at my alarm clock. It’s only a little after eight p.m., and I know I won’t pass out anytime soon, but I’m at least going to try. Closing my eyes, I picture his face, the face I catch him having when he’s watching me, studying me. Crease in his brow, jaw set, eyes narrowed in on whatever it is I’m doing. Always so studious.

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