Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy(19)

I roll my eyes at myself and sit down in a pale-pink satin chair right outside Billie’s dressing room. My sister’s happiness is pervasive, obviously, and seems so good in the abstract. But the reality of my situation is that I don’t have time for anything remotely close to love right now.

One day? Maybe? I don’t know. If it meant that much to me, I would think I would have pursued it more.

Either way, it doesn’t matter.

Right now, I’m too busy with music and tours and movies—hello!—to settle down with anyone, much less get married and pop out a couple kids.

I can handle a short little fling here and there, but a committed relationship just isn’t in the cards.

It also wasn’t in the cards for Billie, but look at her now…

I run a hand through my long blond locks and shut off my brain before it gets out of hand.

Thankfully, right on cue, my sister steps out of the dressing room in her first wedding dress. Bodiced in lace and satin, the mermaid-cut dress hugs her curves in all the right places—even her cute preggo belly. Not even a shotgun wedding would make my sister any less stunning.

Tears prick my eyes before I can stop them.

“Billie,” I say in a shaky voice and lift my hand to swipe away one lone tear escaping down my cheek. “I’m speechless.”

“You like it?” she asks, stepping up onto the platform and staring at herself in the mirrors.

“I more than like it. I love it.”

She meets my eyes in the reflection and notes another tear that slips down my cheek.

“Oh God, don’t cry,” she says with wide eyes. “Once you start, then I start, and then we end up a blubbering mess. Lord knows, all these pregnancy hormones rolling around in my body hold the power to ignite a three-hour sob fest, and my tears seem extra salty lately. I don’t want to pay the dry-cleaning bill for dresses I don’t even own!”

“Too late for that.” I laugh through my tears and stand up to close the distance between us.

“Is it okay?” she asks, running her fingers down the sides of the material. “I mean, it’s not exactly optimal to be trying on wedding dresses when you’re pregnant.”

“Shut up,” I chide. “You’re like a pregnancy freak of nature, all boobs and belly. It’s annoying. I should slap you on behalf of all pregnant women.”

She snorts. “No, no. You just save your slaps for the movie, sis.”

I shove her shoulder, and she laughs. Clearly, she’s never going to let me live down the details of my audition now that I’ve shared them with her.

“You know, Momma looked exactly like this when she was pregnant with us, so it’s genetic. You’ll probably be exactly like me when you get knocked up.”

I roll my eyes. “When I get knocked up?” I shake my head through a bark of laughter. “When exactly are we expecting the immaculate conception to occur?”

“Shut up. You’re going to meet someone. Soon. I can feel it.”

“Pretty sure the money from Granny’s winning lotto ticket is going to end up being my future niece or nephew’s trust fund.”

Granny had a thing about our family and luck. She was adamant that if you’re a Harris, you’re either flat on your ass or you’re the luckiest son of a bitch in town, so when she actually won on a lottery ticket she bought from the Stop N’Go, she kept it a secret—for fifteen freaking years.

Twenty-four hours before she took her last breath, she finally told Billie and me about the winning ticket. She’d put the money in the bank and hadn’t touched a single penny—said she’d already lived a good, long life and wanted to leave the luck for us.

Our granny was the one who raised us after our parents died, and there is no doubt she is still the strongest, most courageous, most interesting woman I’ve ever known. Now that I don’t need the money to survive, I can’t think of a better way to honor her than to pass down the money she so carefully saved for us to the next generation.

Billie meets my eyes in the reflection of the mirror. “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think you’re ever going to settle down?”

I shrug. “I’m not a psychic, sis. I don’t know what the future holds.”

“My point exactly,” she tosses back with a hand to her hip. “So, stop talking like you’re never going to settle down with anyone and have kids.”

A sarcastic retort about lawsuits being the only good time to settle sits on the tip of my tongue, but I know this conversation isn’t going anywhere other than an argument. Given the situation, I choose to swallow it down and focus on not ruining the moment—Billie in her wedding dress.

“This is the dress,” I say, and a soft, genuine smile consumes my face. “God, I wish Momma could see how beautiful you look right now.”

Instantly, a sheen of tears coats her eyes. She bites down on her bottom lip and nods. “Me too.”

Without hesitation, I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms for a hug. “This is the one, sis. The dress.”

“But it’s the first dress I’ve tried on!” she exclaims, and my shoulders jump up in a little smart-aleck, so-what-style shrug.

“Birdie.” She purses her lips and stomps a cute, defiant foot. “Seriously. I need to at least try on the other two before I go all in with this one.”