The first rule about a casual hookup is to have an exit plan. No strings. No attachments. Get in, get out—euphemism intended. The lesser known second rule? Make sure your casual hookup isn’t about to become your wedding planner. Yeah. Long story.
The wedding was going to be a fake. The only catch was nobody could know. Not even my wedding planner.
Now the wedding planner thinks I’m the world’s biggest bastard. She thinks I’m in love with the woman I’m supposed to marry. She thinks a lot of things, but she doesn’t know the truth.
She’s got no idea she’s going to fall for me by the time this thing is over.
She’s got no idea our little hookup wasn’t meaningless. Not to me, at least.
And worst? She thinks she’s safe around me. She thinks I’m off the market, that there can’t be a repeat because there’s someone else.
There’s nobody else. Just her. And ever since the first taste, I knew she was all there’d ever be.