I spent most of the party tucked away in a corner, watching what was posted on Instagram. The tags were already rolling in when I logged on. I had to hand it to these girls: they had mad editing skills.

I saw a woman whose blouse pinched and rolled over her sides—obviously two sizes too small—post a flawless picture of herself looking like she just stepped off a runway.

There was a group of girls taking the same Boomerang of them clinking their champagne flutes for what felt like the twentieth time. I wonder whether you could break off the base of a champagne flute and use it to stab someone?

There were pictures of the food, pictures of Kaavi, and about a million different selfies.

You are stunning xx, I posted from IllegallyBlonde99.

Girl <3 Your dress!! from KimKx.

Congratulations! You’re going to be the most gorgeous bride ever x from LVSpeedy45.

This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. I got up, meaning to walk around a little—perhaps seek out some of the women I’d met at the cocktail party, but after a few minutes of aimlessly flailing around, I figured I’d just head back into the bathroom for a minute.

I still had my phone out and pretended to be texting while I walked so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, so his voice was a hard punch to the stomach when I heard it.

“Hello, stranger.”

I dropped my phone.

“Um, hi,” I mumbled, carefully bending down to pick it up. “I didn’t think you’d be at the bridal shower.”

Spencer gave me his million-dollar smile. “You got me.” His voice was low. My heart pounded.

“Excuse me?”

“You got me. I was just trying to sneak a peek at what was going on down here. I got bored, sitting alone in my room.” His smile shifted lightly, suggesting something, even though I didn’t let myself think of what that something could be.

I was acutely aware of the sweat snaking its way down my back. I couldn’t be around him. I didn’t trust myself to be around him.

There was only a small tremble to my voice when I started to speak. “I was just heading—”

“I’ve been thinking about you, you know, since we met the other day.”

I was going to throw up. Oh god, I hope he wasn’t too attached to the shoes he was wearing because they were about to be ruined.

“Y-you were?”

“Yeah. I wanted to tell you that I was right?”

My body felt cold.

“R-right about w-what, exactly?”

“Well.” He reached over and leaned his forearm against the wall, blocking my path. He was too close to me. Dangerously close. I looked around but the corridor was deserted.

“The ending of Game of Thrones, of course. I told you from the start, didn’t I? That she was bound to lose her mind. It’s always the one you suspect the least, after all.”

I was holding my breath. My chest hurt.