Keiran King cocked his brow—ugh, she remembered how much that arched brow annoyed her, too—and folded his arms. “I was invited, same as you.”

No, that couldn’t be right, but of course, it was. He’d been friends with Eric for years. She’d somehow forgotten that—or just ignored the fact like she ignored most things about Keiran.

His chuckle was low, and Cherisse bristled. “No one told you? I’m the best man. I have to say, Cherisse, you really know how to string people along. They’re practically salivating in there, waiting for your...” He waved at the dessert boxes. “Whatever’s in the box treats. Did you pull this fashionably late bit to make some grand entrance with your pastries?”

His words grated, but Cherisse’s brain focused on only one thing.

I’m the best man.

“Did you just say you’re the best man?” Blood rushed to her head. He had to be joking. He’d always known how to get a rise out of her since they’d been teens. Poke at Cherisse until she blew and lost her temper and said something her mother would deem unbecoming of a young lady, earning her a serious scolding. She was an adult now, and she would not let him rile her up. She went for flippant instead. “That sounds fake, but okay.”

“You really don’t believe me.” His eyes crinkled as he laughed loudly. “Seriously, I’m not kidding. I’m the best man to your maid of honor. But, I don’t know, your sis may have to rethink that if you can’t even be on time for something small like this.”

Walking right by was an option. Ignore all the words spewing from his lips. Anything but losing her cool. “I have a legit reason for being late, you asshole!”

Some heads turned her way, and her face grew warm. Damn everything. She’d completely forgotten where they were. Not exactly the impression she wanted to make on Eric’s family. Cherisse got liberal with the swearing around her close-knit crew. Here, that wouldn’t be acceptable.

Keiran’s brown eyes twinkled at her outburst. He’d definitely won that round. Keiran King – 1 Cherisse Gooding – 0

“Whatever you say, Sugar Queen. Better get on. I’m sure everybody’s waiting on your overly-hyped whatever.” He bowed and moved to the side. She stormed by him, making sure to whack him in the side with the sharp corner of one of the boxes. His laughter echoed behind her.

She’d never hated the nickname she’d been dubbed with by her fellow foodies on the island. Sugar Queen. She liked it. The print and online magazines she’d been featured in used it all the time. Hell, she’d rolled with it all the way and plastered the damn nickname all over her bio on her website and social media accounts.

Except when Keiran said it in that smirky, condescending tone—then she hated it.

Thankfully, her best friend swooped in as soon as she saw her because Cherisse was about to have a meltdown.

“Hey, you made it, finally!” Remi Daniels hugged her as much as the dessert boxes allowed, then gave her the once-over. “Hey, we kinda match!”