5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Morgan
I think if I had to choose a single alcoholic beverage to enjoy for the rest of my life it would be a margarita—something about them just speaks to my soul. It could be because nine times out of ten, I’m enjoying one with a massive bowl of chips and queso. It could be because of the numerous country songs devoted to the frozen concoction. Or, it could just be because they’re freaking delicious. Whatever it is, I’m the happiest version of myself when I’m sipping a marg . . . until my friends start talking about Parker Winters.
“Are you sure you don’t just want to call off the wedding?” I ask, my tongue already loose from the extra tequila they put in my beverage at Se?or Cuervos. “I mean really, I wouldn’t judge you. I’d kick him to the curb for leaving the cap off the toothpaste.”
Cassidy glares at me from across the table, and continues to complain to Claire about the frustrations of living with a man. I tune them out, taking a long sip as I peer down at my cleavage.
My titties look awesome tonight, and it’s a damn shame that I’m the only one who’s going to appreciate them. Even though it’s a girls’ night, I’m dressed to the nines in a tight, black V-neck sweater and medium-wash jeans. My hair is straight, my brows are plucked, and my face is perfectly made up. Look good, feel good—that’s the recipe for a happy life. Well, that, and margaritas like I previously mentioned.
“Well, since you insist on marrying Doctor Delightful,” I interrupt, waving my hand to force their attention back on me. “Can we please talk about where we’re going for the bachelorette? I’m in desperate need of a trip to warmer weather. Whoever said that it was acceptable for it to be twenty degrees at the end of February was seriously sadistic. Shouldn’t spring be around the corner?”
Cassidy’s wedding is only four months away, and I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for her to share the plan. My friends have been so busy lately with their boyfriends, work, and school that I’ve been feeling a little lonely. A drunk girls’ weekend is exactly what I need to pick me up.
Claire gives her sister-in-law a hesitant look, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, something she tends to do when she’s nervous. Her icy-blue eyes are somewhat glassy after just a single drink, and I know for a fact that one of us is going to have to make sure she gets home safely. I love her to death, but she’s the biggest lightweight that I know, and she acts like a baby giraffe when she’s had a few too many.
I lean forward to grab a chip and fill the awkward silence between us. “Why is nobody saying anything?”
“We’re going to Vegas . . .” Cass replies. Her tone is careful, and it almost sounds like she isn’t excited to visit the city that never sleeps.
Or is that New York?
I’ve never been great at geography.
And I mean, I get her hesitation. She isn’t really a dress up and put on a show kind of girl. In the two years that I’ve known her, I’ve seen her in a full face of makeup maybe five times, and all of those were because I forced her into submission, not because she chose it for herself. But even if she were wearing a trash bag with her hair completely unbrushed, she would still be the most gorgeous person I know—both inside and out.
Cassidy’s long blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, several stray wisps falling around her face haphazardly. Even though she and Claire came straight from work, they look like they walked out of a damn Pinterest board for hot nurses. When I leave the hospital, I have bodily fluids all over me, smell, and could easily be mistaken for a grunge goblin.
Life isn’t fair.
“Oh thank God.” I release a dramatic breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I was worried you were going to say that you’re not having one, or that it’s going to be somewhere lame like 30A, or something.”
Claire takes a long sip of her margarita, watching me curiously like I’m a ticking time bomb that’s about to explode.
I’m honestly not surprised she’s keeping her lips locked—she hates confrontation. But Cass usually lives for it, which makes me suddenly very nervous about what’s going to come out of my best friend’s mouth.
“Nope,” Cass answers simply, avoiding my stare. “We’re definitely going to Vegas.”
“God, don’t sound so excited,” I snort, leaning back against the red leather booth. “So who else is coming? Anyone I know?”
“It’s not finalized yet . . .” Cass says, shifting in her seat slightly. “We’re going to keep it small, but for sure it will be the three of us and Caroline. She has that weekend off for med school, and promised to be there.”
I don’t know the youngest Winters sibling very well, but when I introduced myself at the engagement party, she didn’t have a whole lot to say and was acting somewhat standoffish. I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt though, so I’m sure I’ll come to love her just like her sister. She was probably just having a bad night, and honestly, I would’ve had a bad night too if I were her—the guy she was talking to looked like a total wet blanket.
“And what weekend would that be, my dear bestie?” I ask, slurping down the remnants of my margarita.
“The first one in April.”
My face must be an open book to my thoughts because Cass apologizes, “Sorry—it was the only date that worked for all seven of us. I made sure you were off work, and Claire already handled the hotels, flights, and everything. All you have to do is show up at the airport.”
I wasn’t really concerned about the logistics or money because I’ve always been a fly by the seat of my pants kind of woman. If there’s a good time to be had, you can bet that I’ll be there. Plus, I’m a champion at the airport—TSA has never seen a more efficient traveler.
“Wait, who else did you invite?” I ask, focusing on something else that she said. “You named four of us—me, you, Claire, and Caroline—but you just said seven.”
“Yeah, Cass,” Claire teases, biting her bottom lip to hold back a fit of giggles. “Who else did you invite?”
I feel like there’s some inside joke going on here because the guest list of a bachelorette party shouldn’t be that funny. I would assume that the extras are some of her random childhood friends, but I think she kind of lost touch with everyone when her brother died a few years ago. And I know it’s definitely not any of our coworkers because she doesn’t hang out with people from the hospital other than me, Parker, and his sisters . . .
Cass narrows her eyes on Claire and snarls, “I’m going to kill you.”
“No you won’t. You love me,” Claire sings, making a kissy face with her lips. “Even more than you love my brother.”
“It depends on the day, but right now he’s winning by a mile.”
“Ahem.” I snap my fingers, redirecting their focus back to the more important matter at hand. “Care to share who else is coming, Cass? The guest list sounds pretty final to me.”
She glances at Claire who just shrugs. “She’s going to find out eventually.”
With a resigned exhale Cassidy says, “So . . . Parker and the boys might also be coming for a joint trip.”
The words catapult through my head like little pinballs of rage threatening to erupt through my skull.
Looking down at my empty glass, I suddenly realize that I’m not drunk enough for this conversation. I press my lips into a thin line as I signal our waiter for another round of drinks, trying my hardest to listen to the angel on my shoulder rather than the devil.
“Joint trip, as in . . . both parties together?” I finally ask, trying to mask the incredulity in my tone.
I hope to God that I’m being punked right now. That a camera crew is going to turn the corner and reveal themselves, and then we can all laugh about this over a round of tequila shots.
“Yep,” Cass confirms, looking to Claire for encouragement who just grins, knowing that pandemonium is about to ensue.
This plan has Parker Winters written all over it. The control freak can’t let her have this one thing? One single moment of fun before he ruins her life ?
I could kill him.
I won’t.
But I could.
This is exactly why I refuse to ever walk down the damn aisle—you lose all sense of personal identity the moment you promise your life to someone.
“God,” I groan a little too loudly. “Can Parker just let you live for once? I swear, he has the most punchable face of all time.”
Cassidy gives me a horrified look, and I suddenly realize that I’ve gone too far.
“Kidding—I would never punch his pretty-boy face because we all know he would sue me.”
I don’t know when it happened, but my best friend seems to have lost her spine.
Where is the woman who marched into his office in January to defend Beau? Where is the woman who told him off last year in the middle of the busy ER? Where is the woman who stood her ground when he told her that she should follow his orders?
I’ll tell you where—she’s kneeling at the feet of a man who sucks the fun out of everything.
“It was actually Beau’s idea, not Parker’s,” Claire chimes in, smirking at me like she knows that I’m holding back. “So don’t be too mad.”
I take a deep breath to steady my racing pulse. While that insight does make me feel slightly better, it doesn’t change the fact that I still have to spend the entire weekend with my archnemesis.
“But you can totally still punch my brother,” she continues. “I kicked his ass all of the time when we were kids because we were super into Wrestlemania and liked to pretend that we were WWE fighters. For a surgeon, he has surprisingly horrible reflexes.”
Her story pulls me out of my rage spiral, and I let out a reluctant laugh as I glance at Cass. She’s shaking her head in resignation like she’s outnumbered by the two of us.
And she is.
I’m the President of the Parker Winters Hater Committee, and Claire occasionally votes in my favor.
“Can y’all please just be nice to him?” she pleads, darting her eyes between us. “He tries really hard.”
“That’s the problem—he tries too hard.”
“He lets loose in other ways,” Cass argues with a kinky grin.
Claire and I both pretend to gag, knowing exactly what she’s talking about.
“Add that to the list of things that give me nightmares, along with this shit show of a weekend in Vegas. Am I allowed to call in sick? Asking for a friend . . .”
I wouldn’t actually miss her bachelorette for the world, but I have to get my jabs in where I can—she knows that I mean well.
“It’s going to be the best weekend ever,” Claire sings. “All of my favorite people in the land of slot machines and bottomless beverages.”
A wild snort reflexively comes out of my mouth. “That’s because I’m sure your brute of a boyfriend is coming along. You won’t even leave the hotel room.”
If I had to make a prediction, our weekend in Vegas will result in the two of them paired up with their men, leaving me and Caroline in the damn dust.
Whoop-de-freakin-doo. I get to hang out with mini-Parker for forty-eight hours straight. All I can do is cross my fingers that she has a little bit of her older sister in her somewhere.
“Beau isn’t the only brute going.” Cass smiles, pausing for dramatic effect. “He invited Walker too.”