“Laur?” Kat’s voice.
I peeked out, saw my friend. Reached out, snagged her arm and tugged her to me. She squealed in surprise.
“Laurel? What are you doing in the laundry room?”
“This is bad, Kat,” I whispered under my breath. “Really, really bad.”
She laughed, and wasn’t even quiet about it. “Why are you whispering? We are literally the only ones in the house.”
“Titus Bright is out there.”
“So?”
“So…he knew my name. He said things to me.”
“Again, so what?”
“It’s Titus Bright, dammit. You don’t understand.”
Kat pulled me out of the laundry room and toward the staircase to the spare bedroom where Autumn was getting ready. She glanced over at me as we paused outside the closed door of the bedroom. “You met Titus Bright. He’s hot. He knows your name. So the hell what? He probably saw The Ad. He wants you. Great.” An eye roll; she pulled her phone out of her clutch, tapped and scrolled a moment, and then showed me her phone.
On it? The Ad. A photo of me—a selfie, as a matter of fact. In my bathroom, at home.
God, this photo? Really? I’d just gotten back from vacation in the Caribbean, where I’d spent a lot of time tanning on the beach, and the photo in question was a private one, meant to show off to my girlfriends how tan I was. I was naked, in the selfie. My body was twisted to the side from the waist down, showing my thigh and buttock in profile, thereby blocking any view of my hoo-ha, but it was clear I was naked as a jay bird. My arm was barred across my tits, left hand clutching my right boob, forearm over my right, upper torso twisted around to face three-quarters to front. Long platinum blond hair loose, curly and kinky from having been in a braid all day. No makeup. Granted, it was a damn good shot of me, showed off my bangin’ ass and thighs, my toned waist, and my boobage was spilling over my wrist and hands to rather dramatic effect. Under the photo was the now-standard caption, which had now adorned The Ad beneath photos of both Lizzy and then Autumn before me: Beautiful, successful single woman in search of a wealthy, handsome man to help her get pregnant the old-fashioned way. Financial validation a must. Serious inquiries only. DM for more info.
“It’s Titus Bright,” I repeated.
“You’re overthinking it, babe,” Kat said. “I’ve heard stories about that man that’ll make your toes curl. I’m sure you have too. I mean, shit, there’s a whole sub-Reddit about Titus Bright urban legends and sex stories. You wanna get on that cock for a quickie after the wedding, I’m sure no one will be surprised. If you don’t, we’d be a little surprised, but you do you. You’ve been kinda weird lately, so not taking advantage of the attention of a sinfully sexy rock star worth, last I checked, five hundred million, who also happens to have looked at you, in your own words, like something to eat…well, that would be weird.”
“I don’t care how much he’s worth. Honestly, I tend to avoid rich guys. This whole billionaire thing is you guys. I’ve been there, done that.” I sniffed. “Rich guys are lazy. They think because their bank account has a few extra zeroes that I’m gonna suddenly just start spontaneously orgasming and they aren’t gonna have to put in the work to get me there.”
Kat laughed. “Honey, I have a hard time believing it’s difficult to give you an O. A stiff breeze will get you off.”
I snorted. “And what gives you that impression, Katja? When was the last time you were in the room while I had an orgasm?”
“Ew. I was teasing, Laur, you don’t have to be gross about it.”
“So now my orgasms are gross to you?”
Kat frowned at me. “You’re picking a fight, and I’m not here for it. My point is, have sex with him, don’t have sex with him, it’s your call. But don’t make it into this whole big thing.”
“You’re the one who mere moments ago was all like ohh, he’s so rich, he’s so famous, there’s a whole swath of the internet dedicated to his sexual prowess.”
“All of which can be considered reasons both for and against you having anything further to do with him. And you’re the one who just said wealth isn’t interesting to you.”
“Kat, Laurel, are you going to stand out there arguing all morning, or are you going to get your asses in here and help me with my hair?” Autumn called, from the other side of the door. “It’s not going to braid itself, you know.”
We exchanged looks and went in. Zoe was doing Autumn’s makeup, and Teddy was steaming her dress. Autumn sat in a tall chair, wearing a strapless white bra that was more sheer lace than anything else and provided rather little by way of support, and a thong that was similarly sheer and white. She looked stunning, sensual, and I was seeing more of her than I maybe needed to. Not that I was prudish about it—we were all comfortable with each other’s nudity, especially Lizzy, Kat, and me, having been friends since college and having shared rooms with each other on numerous occasions.
“You look sexy AF, Autumn,” I said. “That lingerie does amazing things for you.”
She smiled at me. “Thanks, Laur. Seven picked it out.”
I arched an eyebrow. “He did, huh? And has he seen it on you?”
She smirked, rolled a shoulder. “I mean, he was in the changing room with me, so yes. But not yet today.”
Zoe had the tip of her tongue sticking out as she ran lip liner over her older sister’s lips. “I guess it’s one of their things, lingerie shopping together.”
“He likes picking out my underwear,” Autumn said. “And it’s fun. He picks stuff I’d never pick for myself, but I figure that’s the point of fancy panties, right? It’s not for me, it’s for him.”
I flicked a finger at her. “Clearly. That bra looks great, but it’s not really doing much by way of support.”
Zoe sat back, twirling the lip liner pencil between her fingers, and then tapped at the underside of her sister’s boob. “She doesn’t need much support with these cute lil mosquito bites.”
Autumn stuck her tongue out at Zoe. “Hello, Pot? This is Kettle, come in Pot, over.” She pointed at Zoe. “You’re not rocking anything more than I am, princess. Less, if anything.”
“Maybe. But mine are perkier.” A flouncing shrug. “Because I’m younger.”
Autumn faked a glare. “You’re age- and boob-shaming me, your beloved elder sister, your only family, on my wedding day?”
Zoe burst into laughter, and fell against her sister, hugging her. “You know I’m teasing, Autumn. I’m just jealous because I’d never have the courage to wear lingerie like that. I’m too much of a scaredy-cat.”
Autumn pushed her away, patting her cheek. “Someday, you’ll grow up and find a man of your own, and you’ll understand.”
Zoe snorted, setting aside the lip liner and reaching for a contouring pad. “One can only hope. I’m beginning to think otherwise, though.”
“Your date with the hot mechanic didn’t go well?” Autumn asked.
I moved behind Autumn and began dragging a brush through her long copper locks. “Do tell, Zoe. Did he replace your spark plugs?”