132
The day is finally here, and my usually calm, cool, and collected best friend is anything but. I wake to find her pacing the hotel room, muttering to herself.
"Rose."
She jumps and clutches her chest.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm getting married today. Today is the day. Emmett and I are getting married," she rambles. "I've been dreaming of this for eight years, and now it's here, and I'm officially freaking out."
I get out of bed and quickly waddle to the bathroom. I'm surprised when she follows me and gives me no choice but to pee in front of her because it's either that or peeing my pants, and neither of us has time for that.
"What if this is a mistake?" Rose asks.
I roll my eyes and wash my hands before heading to the mini-fridge with her hot on my heels. I grab a beer and crack it open before handing it to her.
"It's nine in the morning."
"And you need something to take the edge off."
While Rose nurses her beer, I order room service and text you good morning.
No more sleepovers, Lovely. Last night was horrible. I ended up sleeping on the couch with Porkchop and Hambone.
I laugh, and Rose asks me what's so funny. I tell her about your night, and she smiles.
"The two of you are so cute it's nauseating."
While we eat breakfast, we go over the day's itinerary. Rose's mom, Lillian, is bringing the dress after she gets it steamed to prevent wrinkles, and someone will be here soon to get started on our hair and make-up.
I'm glad I don't have to worry about my appearance. I'll leave it in the hands of a professional.
Rose asks me not to judge her when she grabs another beer, and I wave it off.
"It's your big day, just don't get too sloppy before the reception."
The hotel sends up the makings of mimosas for the bride-to-be, and I'm glad Lillian arrives shortly after so Rose won't be tempted to drink the entire bottle of champagne on her own.