She says, "Goodnight," spins, and I watch her leave me, feeling horrible. When I get to the guest room, I text her.

Me: Are you going to show up tomorrow?

A few minutes pass. The sick feeling in my stomach grows.

Georgia: Yes. I signed a contract.

It feels like a knife stabs through my chest at her words.

Me: So is that all this is between us?

I pace the room, grinding my molars, staring at my screen.

Georgia: That was the agreement, Sebastian. It's what you wanted, right?

My heart pounds harder. I start to text, erase it, and retype it several times. So much time passes that I get another text from her.

Georgia: That's what I thought. I'll see you tomorrow. Let's not complicate things more than they are.

I start to text her again, then stop.

What am I trying to say?

Why can't I just admit how I feel about her?

I finally get some balls and reply.

Me: I really like you, Sunshine.

Georgia: It's not about like, Sebastian. Go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. I'm turning my phone off.

And just like that, I've been silenced, except for a final text.

Georgia: And stop worrying. I always hold up my end of deals.

I should feel relieved I have her reassurance, but nothing feels good about it. All I can think is that she's only marrying me because she signed a contract.

I'm getting exactly what I wanted.

Yet nothing feels further from what I want.

Only, I still can't pinpoint what I want to happen between us.

Twenty-One

GEORGIA

"Time to get up," Melanie chirps.

I roll over in bed. I've been awake for hours, pretending to be asleep. My stomach won't stop flipping in a nervous heap of butterflies. I open my eyes, claiming, "Still too early."

"It's almost nine o'clock, girl. Everyone's going to be in the room soon," she scolds.

I groan, then roll over, opening my eyes.

She sits on the edge of the bed. "That's my girl."

"You look like you've been busy."

She points to a small cart in the room. "There's your breakfast."

"Wow. How'd you do that?" I ask.

How did I not hear her?

Because I'm so lost in my thoughts.

"Thanks," I offer.

She stares at me for a minute, and I cringe inside. It's the look she's been giving me since she arrived yesterday.

I ask, "What is it now?"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she questions.

My chest tightens.

Am I sure I want to marry Sebastian Cartwright, god of sex and the hottest man on the planet?

It's not real.

"Melanie, can you stop, please?" I beg.

She turns toward me more. "Okay, but, Georgia, I don't understand the rush. Like, how do you know that Sebastian is the one? A week ago, all you could talk about is what a jerk he was."