“Holy shit.” I sit up. My head is pounding, and my mouth is in desperate need of water, but even feeling like shit, I can’t stop the butterflies in my stomach.

He hasn’t slept with her.

At all, since me. That has to be positive. I throw the covers off to stand and stretch. The clothes he wants me to wear are draped perfectly on my huge leather chair.

Hmm, black slacks and a black sleeveless turtleneck with heeled black pumps. I take a breath and exhale, then look at my phone. Eight thirty in the morning. I reach for my bag to dig out some Advil, trying hard to block out last night, and grab a bottle of water off my dresser.

With that look on Jett’s face when Andrew moved away to introduce me, I honestly thought I was going to faint. Either that, or he was going to strangle me.

“So bad.” Turning on the shower, I find it impossible to turn my brain off. Still, I wash myself, my mind going over last night’s events. Jax Saddington’s handsome face, laughing when I said my daddy brought me. And Andrew… poor Andrew, although something tells me there’s nothing poor about any of them. I turn off the water and step out. I feel a million times better already. If I hurry, maybe I can slam a couple of cups of coffee.

I’m dressed and my makeup’s on in under ten minutes. It helps that I just pinned my wet hair up in a tight bun and threw on some red lipstick. I grab my handbag and phone and shut the door, rushing toward the kitchen, only to stop when I see my mom lounging in her red silk robe. It hangs open, and I try not to look at one of her large, fake breasts.

She tried to make me get fake ones at fourteen when it was obvious mine were not going to be huge. That, and she wanted me to get my ass done, saying, “Men don’t like skinny asses. Look at the Kardashian girls.”

Like I would ever want to look like the Kardashians? I take a deep breath. Jett is sitting on the other side of her. Was that why her robe is open? Was he touching her?

“Do I have time for a cup of coffee?” My voice is laced with contempt, which again is wrong. He’s marrying her, not me. Jesus, I’ve never been a jealous person, always thought it was pathetic. Look at me now.

“No.” He stands and pulls his black suit jacket off the chair to put it on. Leaning over, he kisses my mom who clings to him until her phone starts ringing.

“Hold on.” She rudely tells whoever’s on the phone, then looks at me. “I expect you to not embarrass either Mr. Powers or myself, do you understand, Raven?”