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... e works in his jaw and I can tell some part of him wants to play defiant, but he obeys. He sinks into the closet chair and crosses his arms over his chest looking exhausted. I can see the lines beneath his brown siren eyes. He is nervous, but that doesn't stop him from meeting my gaze. I see the familiar resentment in his eyes, and that surly look of his gives me butterflies.

"Do you have any concerns about the wedding?" I ask, not sure why I did because this is a sham wedding. We are no ...

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Bro, I mean, I'm just a tad handsome, a bit skillful, and slightly crafty, that's all! Why do you all have to make my life difficult? This incessant pestering isn't the answer, is it?What? You'll marry no one else but me? No...you...how could you? Without even asking for my consent?