I feel like I didn’t hear that correctly.
Finn looks triumphant. Convinced. Like he’s cracked some sort of ancient brotherhood spy code to break Delilah’s icy, manipulative heart.
“You want to kiss me at the rehearsal dinner?” I ask.
“Yes, I do. You have kissed a man before, haven’t you?”
I recoil.
"Oh, right, you screwed my brother. How could I have forgotten? Unless, of course, you both were too busy doing other things and didn’t have the opportunity to kiss. Then I’d have to show you how, so it looks authentic at the event."
I just stare at him, my anger simmering beneath the surface. I can't remember the last time I was this annoyed at someone. All the times I’ve mentioned the men I’ve made out with, gone on a date with, or actually started a short-term relationship with—though y
