I’ve never been on great terms with my sister, but things definitely hit rock bottom when she asked me to be the flower girl in her wedding. Keep in mind, I’m thirty-one. I’ve got a 401k, an apartment in New York, and a decent amount of cleavage with the right push-up bra. I am not exactly flower girl material... moreI’ve never been on great terms with my sister, but things definitely hit rock bottom when she asked me to be the flower girl in her wedding. Keep in mind, I’m thirty-one. I’ve got a 401k, an apartment in New York, and a decent amount of cleavage with the right push-up bra. I am not exactly flower girl material.The only thing worse than getting asked to be the flower girl in my sister’s wedding is coming face to face with my older brother’s best friend while I’m decked out in twenty-five pounds of chiffon. Of course Noah Donovan is looking like an actual god while I’m looking like Tinkerbell chewed me up and spit me out with pleasure. Of course he’s in the wedding party, and not as the ring bearer. Of course that standoffish, beautiful man has the guts to wink at me while I walk down the aisle performing the duties of a three-year-old.I’m only in town for the wedding for a week. Nothing bad happens in a week. Not really.Except I’m wrong. Apparently I can make plenty of bad choices in seven days, and sleeping with Noah Donovan tops the list.But can things really be that bad if I’m desperate for more? As it turns out, nights with Noah Donovan are downright delicious. And the mornings, to my great surprise, turn out to be even better. So when our little agreement to sleep with one another to get the attraction out of our system falls apart, could it be possible we’re left with something real? less
