The Wedding Trap (Wedding Season #12)

Chapter 1

I’m Fine

Tasha

Thursday

What are the rules for flirting with a random stranger while trapped inside a flying death machine?

Dramatic much? It’s not that I need a distraction from my fear of flying.

It’s not that the helicopter pilot has my life literally in his hands.

It’s not even because there’s just the two of us traveling from the Australian mainland to Lizard Island in north Queensland.

I mean, no one else would know if I break my drought with a secret tryst. And no one would blame me for turning this particular destination-wedding into a questionable hookup.

The deep crackle of his voice comes through the headset.

“First time to Lizard Island?” the pilot asks. “You look familiar.”

Oh, that. “Well …” Now, how do I explain my first time at Lizard Island? “I was here a few months ago to support my friend through a messy breakup.” If I’d allowed my friends to support me, would things have turned out differently?

“Ahh, I remember.” His laugh crackles louder than the feedback. “Gorgeous bride ran off with the best man six or so months ago, and the groom tracked her down.”

“Um …” Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. “To be fair, she ran away because her fiancé was sleeping with her bridesmaid.” Things I wish I didn’t have in common with my best friend for $1,000, Alex.

Between Olivia burning her dress on the sand and the dual proposals that followed, my best friend’s love story trended. Hard.

“You and another girl came to the Island to support the runaway bride.” Again, I can hardly hear him over the crackle.

“Something like that.” I’d explain that my friends are ride-or-die, but then I’d need to explain about former friends who cheated with former fiancés, and that’s a conversation for another day.

And suddenly, I accept that I’m not the type to hook up with strangers. I deserve better. And I will survive this weekend because I’ve survived the last two years. One wedding will not break me. Consider it a palate cleanser for the rest of my life.

“And you’re here for this weekend’s wedding?”

“Yes.”

“You know what they say about single bridesmaids.”

“Keep them away from the drunk groom before he’s had a chance to say I do?” I turn towards the window, mask in place, no emotions to see here.

I don’t need pity. Olivia says guys see me as the woman they’d need to wifey up. Elena says guys want to befriend me, not screw me. Jess says I’m the woman their friend publicly and tragically humiliated, so no one wants to be my next disaster.

They’re probably right. But, just once, I’d love to have eyes meet across a crowded room, flirty conversation, and to be screwed senseless against a hotel wall. You know, just to confirm all my bits are still in working order.

But I’m not a one-and-done girl. There is one fantasy man in my life, and if he hasn’t wanted to pull me out of the friend zone by now, being part of the same bridal party isn’t about to change that. Not since the groom is my ex and … yeah … that.

Subconsciously, I rub at my ringless left hand. I couldn’t bring myself to keep or sell the diamond ring. Apparently, it took him two days to find it at the bottom of the wedding reception’s pool. I smile, almost certain he reused the stone in his affair partner’s ring.

Would it be inappropriate to ask before or after Sunday’s service?

No. Four days. The wedding’s on Sunday. They arrive Saturday. I can survive four days. I’m content with my life. I’m … fine.

“Hey,” the pilot says gently. “You okay?”

I blink and realize tears are sliding down my cheeks.

Right. This is why I came early. To scope out the location and prepare to be the best bridesmaid in the history of bridesmaids.

Because, I’m over him.

Because, I’ve forgiven them.

Because, I’m okay. Really, I’m fine.

“It’s just the view, the Island,” I say quickly. “So stunning.”

I’m the chief bridesmaid at my ex-fiance’s wedding to his affair partner.

Reality TV has nothing on my real life.

Lyssa to GirlPosseChat: Tell me you didn’t turn up to the wedding a week early

It’s only three days, not a week.

Jess: The bachelorette party is missing a bridesmaid

Me: I think the bride will survive without me

Jess: But what about me?

Jess: I need my drinking buddy

Lyssa: She does NOT need anyone to help her drink

Jess: No one invited the bride to the group chat, right?

Olivia: We agreed this is Tasha’s safe space

Me: I’m fine

Me: how many times do I have to tell you that I’m happy for them

Jess: until we believe you

Lyssa: what she said

Olivia: heard Seb might be headed to the Island early

Lyssa: Seb and Tash sitting in a tree

Jess: hard for Tash to sit on his lap if they’re in a tree

Lyssa: wasn’t thinking that Tash would sit on his lap if his face …

Olivia: behave

Me: stop talking

He’s what? No. Just, no. In all the texts we’ve exchanged about fulfilling our roles at the wedding, Seb never hinted he’d be arriving early.

Me: tell me you’re joking

Olivia: JNJ

Lyssa: So, would you rather attend your ex’s wedding as a bridesmaid or walk in front of a firing squad

Jess: and you say I’ve had too much to drink

Olivia: same energy, different outcomes

Olivia: did anyone pack Tasha’s boxing gloves?

Me: it was one time

Me: and I only knocked the drink out of her hand

Seeing my cousin and my ex loved up only months after our cancelled wedding had been a lot.

And by a lot, I mean, the only reason I didn’t have a male escort as my fake loved-up date to my grandparents’ wedding anniversary was because I couldn’t afford it because of all the cancellation fees.

You know, for the wedding that didn’t happen.

Me: I’m over it. I’m fine

Lyssa: love you bae

Jess: miss you

Olivia: wonder which bridesmaid will hook up with which groomsman

I wonder what Seb will look like in a white tux?

Me: not gonna happen

Back to my earlier question, slightly reframed: what are the rules for turning a best man into a bridesmaid hook up? And what would it take to turn a friend zone into a hot zone?