Confessions of a Bad Bridesmaid by Jennifer Rae

off.
    ‘Here, let me.’
    Edward’s big strong hands reached behind her and unzipped the dress. She breathed him in again. So lovely.
    Awkwardly she lifted the tight dress up and over her head. Then she reached for her bra clasp and flung the constricting garment off. Edward said nothing, but reached down to the bottom of the bed and pulled up a plump, warm duvet. Olivia snuggled down, feeling warm and comfortable. Finally. Bubbles of champagne still danced around in her head.
    ‘Stay with me for a while.’
    Edward hesitated before she felt the side of the bed sink. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but even as the champagne fogged her senses she knew she shouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t like that.
    ‘Talk to me,’ she insisted, closing her eyes against the bright light. ‘And switch the light off.’
    She felt him rise and the light went out. The blackness felt lovely, but in a second a warm light next to the bed went on and she felt the heaviness of Edward on the edge of the bed again. Even though she couldn’t see him very well she could still smell him. And feel him.
    ‘Edward?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Are you still here?’
    ‘Yes, Olivia. I’m still here. Which is why you can talk to me.’
    ‘Oh.’ She giggled. ‘Edward?’
    ‘Yes, Olivia.’
    ‘Can you wash my face?’
    ‘Can I what ?’
    ‘Wash my face? Get all the make-up off? I can’t go to sleep with make-up on. It’ll ruin my comp...my complex...my skin.’
    She heard Edward sigh, and then his big body shifted. The door opened and shut quietly. He was gone. She was all alone and he’d left. Tears welled in her eyes and her stomach was heavy. She didn’t want Edward to leave. Not him. Not big, strong, awful Edward.
    But in a few seconds, before the tears had a chance to fall, he returned and she felt the comforting warmth of a hot cloth on her face. She sighed and pulled the duvet down so he could wipe her neck. With gentle strokes he moved across her face, removing all traces of her armour. He took a while on her eyes, gently moving the cloth back and forth.
    ‘Ouch,’ she complained.
    ‘Sorry.’ His deep voice was soft and calm and so very, very sexy. ‘What’s this?’
    She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Edward held what looked like a caterpillar in his hand. She looked up into his confused face and laughed.
    ‘It’s my eyelashes.’
    He looked back at them, and then at her eyes. Then he leaned closer and peeled the other set of false eyelashes off.
    ‘Why on earth would you wear these?’
    ‘To make my eyes appear larger and more bee-yoo-tiful!’ she announced with a laugh.
    He shook his head and moved the cloth over her eyes again.
    ‘I will never understand women.’
    ‘We’re very simple, Edward. You just have to know the secret.’
    ‘Which is?’
    ‘Do everything we tell you and believe nothing we say.’
    He laughed at that. Then he was finished. The cloth was cold and he moved it away.
    ‘Will you put some cream on my face?’
    This time he didn’t sigh. He just asked, ‘Where is it?’
    ‘In my pink bag.’
    ‘This one?’
    He lifted up an overnight bag and Olivia nodded. She watched him rifle through her bag. His jacket was off and his white shirt strained across his shoulders and back as his hand sorted through. His long, lean legs were encased in black pants and she could see the outline of his muscular thigh as he moved. She was dying to touch him. But he wouldn’t like that.
    When he turned to her he was holding up four pots of cream.
    ‘That one,’ she said, and he unscrewed the lid, sitting down beside her again.
    It felt so good to have him there. She felt safe and cared for. She never felt like this at the beauty salon when they rubbed cream on her face. Somehow Edward’s long, strong fingers roaming her face felt different. Very different. As in her breasts felt tight and moisture rushed to her core different.
    She opened her eyes and watched him. Concentration was etched on his face.