Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

with a smile. She’s wearing the same gown from yesterday because it compliments my gown just right. She’s added a few flowers in her hair, weaving them into the curls the hairdresser did. She’s a vision.

“Thank you. You look gorgeous too,” I reply, trying to just keep myself from breaking down. My sister is more beautiful than she’s ever looked in her entire life . . . and it’s for a lie. How is she supposed to ever believe in love after this?

“What’s wrong, bae? You don’t look happy like you should be,” Roxy says, stopping her bouncing and stepping close, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Are you feeling all right?”

I flash another weak smile. By the time the day is over, my cheeks are gonna be sore from flashing fake smiles all the time. Each one feels like I’m lifting a half ton with hooks driven through my cheeks. I’m exhausted already, and I’ve got hours of this to still look forward to.

“Just nervous,” I tell her. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah, right. Honey, if I had a man like Oliver, I’d be like let's get this shit over with and bring on the consummation!” She giggles.

I fidget with my gown. Even Roxy’s normal humor isn’t enough to get a laugh out of me, and Roxy notices. She takes my other shoulder, squaring up and looking me in the eyes. “I know. Every wedding is a performance. And if I know anything, I know how it is to be nervous before performing. And I know you’re doing this as much for Mom, Grandma, and me as for you. So thank you. It will be okay though. I don’t say it enough, but you kick ass.”

“Thanks,” I say, though I feel dead inside. Kick ass? I can’t even man up about a fake wedding. I don’t kick ass. I suck it. “It really means a lot to me that you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for all the world,” Roxy says before stopping. “Oh, wait!”

“What?” I ask, and Roxy smiles, rooting around in the cups of her gown for something before pulling out a small packet. “What’s that?”

“An old button, a blue Tic-tac, and a penny I borrowed from Aunt Rita. All wrapped in a new handkerchief,” Roxy says, tucking it inside the left cup of my gown. “There, all the bases covered. Time to do your damn thing.”

We walk to the back of the chapel, waiting for my moment. We’re doing it a little different than Mom’s yesterday, and Oliver’s going to meet me by the altar. I’m the only one getting the big entrance, the total star of the show. It makes me want to puke, and as I hear the warmup music and then the minister’s opening remarks, I’m nearly shitting bricks.

“It’s time,” Roxy says softly as The Wedding March starts. “Ready?”

Ready? No chance in hell. My anxiety is through the roof, my heart is hammering in my chest like a Dubstep concert, and I feel like I’m sweating this damn gown through. I’m far from ready. But I have no choice. “Let’s go.”

The doors open, and for a moment, I feel stalled. Dread is a force field, keeping me from taking the first step through the doorway. I feel myself start to lean back, ready to run, but Roxy gives me a gentle push and we walk into the room.

As the sound system plays, we begin our slow walk down the aisle. The room is filled with almost as much family as yesterday. Familiar faces are all around, cousins and family friends. All those damn eyes staring at me above wide smiles. Fraud! they seem to scream. I tear my eyes away from them, staring straight ahead. My legs feel weak, and I’m glad Roxy’s walking me down. I think I’d stumble otherwise.

Even in my frazzled state, I see how beautiful the place is. They even put more decorations up than Mom had and changed the theme. Instead of being a sort of airy elegance, it’s almost totally over the top. There’s finery everywhere, gilt-edged curtains and bunting all around the hall. There are flowers all over. I don’t even want to know just how many flower shops John emptied out on this. They even redid the altar, making it sparkle and shine even more than before.

It’s a wedding chapel worthy of a Disney movie. It’s a room that a real Princess would walk down the aisle in. Except it’s not fucking real.

I blink to clear my vision, and my breath catches in my throat when I see Oliver. He’s waiting up ahead at the altar. Standing by himself except for the priest, he’s the perfect groom. He’s wearing a tailed waistcoat, his hair slicked and styled just right, his hands in front of him respectfully. Every inch of him screams poise and strength, and he’s fucking gorgeous. But my heart does a weird twist, and with each step, the blackness that’s threatened to overwhelm me all day grows.

I should’ve known someone like him was too good to be true. I should’ve known that getting involved too deeply would end in heartbreak.

I should have . . . and now it’s too late.

By the time we reach the altar, I’m a mess. My breathing is ragged and I’m trying to do my best to control my arms from shaking. Roxy even has to help me up the first step before she lets go and peels off to take her seat.

Oliver’s eyes are on mine, but they are carefully neutral, his emotions hidden behind a mask. I can't read what he’s thinking.

The priest clears his throat and begins. “Dearly beloved . . .”

Just like yesterday, I lose track of what he’s saying. I hear noise, music once, but mostly just noise. Instead, I think about my misery.

It’s not going to end today. What, is Oliver going to go on a fake honeymoon with me, pose so we can Photoshop ourselves on the beach in Cabo? When is enough,