Bridesmaid Undercover: An incredibly steamy, hilarious, friends to lovers, love triangle romantic comedy

EVERLY

“Ember,” I whisper into the phone as I keep my eyes on Hardy, who is talking to Maple on the couch by the pool. Polly and Ken are in the middle of the dance floor making out, while others mill about playing beer pong, eating food, and cheering on the bride and groom who are still tied together.

“What?” she asks. “Are you whispering?”

“Yes. I don’t want anyone to hear me.” I glance around again, making sure no one is near.

We are on red alert, people. Things have happened at this party and not just things, but…things.

There has been touching.

Smiling.

Dare I say…flirting?

God, imagine a world where Hardy Hopper would actually flirt with me. I can’t. I can’t fathom it, that’s why I’m calling my sister. I need help!

“Okay…what’s going on?”

“I’m at the party and I’m slightly drunk, not too drunk, but drunk enough that I feel like I don’t have my faculties together, and I know you’re going to say I’m losing my mind, but I don’t think I’m losing my mind—I think I’m right, and I know you’re going to say I’m wrong, but I need to talk to someone about it, or I might just do something really, really stupid.”

“Uh, okay, take a breath for a moment. Does this have to do with Hardy?”

“Yes, and I have only seconds here, so just listen. He asked Maple out and she said no, not interested—insane if you ask me, but her choice. He’s been weird with me, and I don’t know why—he won’t say—but at the party, he’s been pretty normal, at least after I told him he was ignoring me, but that doesn’t matter…some things have been happening.”

“Uh, okay. What’s happened?”

“Well, there’s been talking, and touching, and looking, and…and his friends have mentioned Hardy likes me. Like blatantly said he likes me and I, naturally, laughed it off, but alcohol must make my brain sticky because I haven’t been able to shake off the thought of him potentially having feelings for little old me. So, my question is, does he really like me? I mean he’s been looking at me differently tonight, Ember. With…uh…heady eyes? Hungry eyes? Potent? One of those. Either way, it’s making me feel nutty inside, a little turned on, and slightly unhinged, to the point that I worry. I worry that I’m dreaming this up in my head and out of nowhere, because I want him so bad I’m just going to randomly grope him. Hand to crotch. To penis. To junk. Right there, my palm to his⁠—”

“I get it,” Ember says, sounding exasperated. “First of all, don’t grab his penis. Men have the right to grant permission too.”

“I know. I know. I wouldn’t really grab his penis.” I know I said it, but it doesn’t sound convincing.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t believe myself,” I say. “Ugh, help me, Ember.”

“I’m trying, but you’re talking so fast and slightly erratically.”

“Because I’m scared someone will hear, or he’ll wonder why I’m taking so long in the bathroom.”

“Oh God, you told him you were going to the bathroom?”

“Yes, that’s why we are on borrowed time.”

“We must make haste then—can’t have him thinking you’re spending too much time, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” I say in a panic. “So help me!”

She chuckles. “Well, do you think he likes you?”

I glance out the window to where Hardy and Maple are chatting. “I don’t know, I feel like the tables have been turned.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I think I’m no longer the bridesmaid undercover…” Whispering, I add, “I think it’s Maple.”

“What? This is so confusing.”

“I’ve never felt clearer,” I say. “Oh my God, Ember, I think he likes me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, before you get ahead of yourself and do something like…grab his penis, can you just take a few deep breaths and remind yourself where your head was at a few weeks ago? You’re crazy about him. I don’t want you dreaming up fallacies in your head, when in reality, he’s just being a nice guy.”

I pause because, wait…is he just being a nice guy?

His niceness can be considered flirting when he doesn’t mean to flirt.

Which means…has this entire night just been one of those instances? Where he’s just being a nice guy?

“Are you there?” Ember asks.

“Yes, sorry, just thinking.”

“I know you’re not in a clear state right now, but I just want you to be careful, okay? Before you make a move, before you jump right into head over heels in love with the man, remember to just…look for signs. And signs that aren’t just him being nice.”

“Right, okay, and what are the signs again?”

“Well, if he touches you in more intimate places.”

Keeping my voice low, I say, “Like…between my legs?”

“Dear God, no, Everly. Like, on your thigh.”

“Oh.” I giggle. “Right.”

“And read his body language, watch him watch you. Listen to his words and if you think it’s all there, then just go for it.”

“Sooo,” I drag out “you’re giving me permission to proceed?”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“You were against this,” I counter.

“Because he was interested in someone else,” she says. “But now that being with that other person is not an option, and he’s available, then yes, go for it.”

“Wow, okay.” I prop my shoulders back. “So I’ll just go for it.”

“If he likes you.”

“Right, if he likes me,” I repeat. “An important factor.” I let out a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m falling in love tonight.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ember mutters. “Please, Everly⁠—”

“Ooop, I got to go, he’s looking around, and I don’t want him thinking I got stuck in the toilet. Love you, sis. Thanks for the advice.”

“Everly, wait⁠—”

But I don’t wait, instead I hang up the phone, stick it in my back pocket, and stare out the window one more time, watching him interact with Maple.

There’s distance between them. She’s not leaning toward him, and from here it seems like he’s not leaning toward her. But then again, I could be wrong.

Ugh, am I reading him wrong? Is he into me? Is he into her?

I twist my lips to the side. If only it was as easy as walking up to him, tapping him on the shoulder, and point blank asking, “Dear sir, are you into me?”

But I would never.

No, I have to go about this a different way.

If there is a move being made, then I’m going to do the work.

Which means, we need food! Food is the universal way to see if someone is into you. Will they share with you?

Will they feed you?

If the answer is yes, they’re into you.

Food will give me my answer.

And it might not hurt to soak up some of this alcohol…

“Who’s hungry?”I announce to both Maple and Hardy as I walk up to them.

While I was piling dips on a plate, my phone buzzed several times in my pocket, letting me know that my sister was attempting to get in contact with me, but I refused to answer because I don’t need her help. I’ve got this.

When Hardy looks up at me, a lazy smile passes over his lips. “I could eat something. Let me go grab a plate and join you.”

“Oh, no need,” I say. “I piled a lot on this plate. We can share.” I glance at Maple and then quickly add, “If that’s okay with you, Maple. I mean, I can get another plate if you want. I have some meat on this plate, but I can make a pure vegetarian one.”

She smirks and stands from the couch. “I was actually about to make my own and grab some drinks. Should I bring over another round of Moscow mules?”

“I can grab them,” Hardy says as he attempts to stand, but Maple stops him again.

“Nope, I got it. Enjoy some food with Everly.”

“You sure?” he asks, and for a small moment, I fear the way he’s looking at her is a signal to not leave him alone with me. A crazy thought? Maybe, but he’s being adamant about helping. If anything, it adds a hit of insecurity to my plan, which is probably what I needed in the first place.

“Positive, I can grab the drinks. You two enjoy,” Maple replies, before taking off.

I glance down at Hardy and smile while holding up the plate. “You don’t have to eat with me. I can go over by Ken and Polly, have some dinner and a show.”

Hardy chuckles and pats the seat next to him. “Take a seat, Plum. You can have a dinner and a show from here too—might get a good look at some solid tongue action at this angle.”

“Ooo, and I thought I would have to pay extra for that.” I take a seat next to him and to my surprise, he drapes his arm over the back of the couch and turns toward me, bringing one leg up on the cushion.

Okay…okay…be cool.

This is body language, right? This is what Ember was talking about.

If I were to do the green line test…or is it red line? Either way, I can do the line test right now and the result would be positive and in my favor.

Approach with caution though, you are drunk. You don’t want to do something brash because he is slightly leaning toward you.

“Dip?” I ask, holding the plate between us.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he picks up a cracker and dunks it into the buffalo chicken dip.

I watch him pop the entire cracker in his mouth and then get lost in the way his jaw moves back and forth as he chews.

And then the swallow…

Never been a neck girl, never even thought about the neck in a sexual way, but by God, seeing him take that food down…it catapults me into another world of lust.

I could watch him swallow for hours.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Is there something on my face?”

I wish it was my lips.

“Uh, no, why?” I ask.

“Because you seem to be looking at me strangely.”

“Am I?” I ask. “I didn’t realize. Would you like me to look elsewhere?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I would prefer for you to stare at my shoe.”

“Your shoe?” I ask and then shrug. “Well, your wish is my command, Henrietta.” I direct my attention to his shoe and stare at it for probably no more than three seconds before I feel his finger on my chin.

He slowly brings my gaze back to his, and when our eyes meet, my nipples go hard.

Yup, hard as stone.

Because this is an intimate touch, right?

A chin lift, that screams intimacy. I’ve seen it in every romantic comedy I’ve ever watched. Two fingers under the chin with a slight lift up, letting the girl know that he wants those eyes on him.

Well, they’re on him, and with every breath that goes by, my chest grows heavier and heavier with need.

“I’m kidding, Everly. I don’t want you staring at my shoe.”

“No?” I ask, swallowing a lump that’s forming in my throat. “What, uh, what do you want me looking at?”

“Preferably my face.”

I chuckle awkwardly. “Your face, huh?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “My face.”

“Cool, yeah, isn’t that what faces were made for? To be looked at?”

“I think that’s exactly what they were made for. Housing the eyes, nose, and mouth was a secondary thought.”

“But what a great secondary thought,” I say as I scoop some taco dip onto my chip.

“Might be a good slogan for a shirt. Eyes, mouth, and nose, just secondary to the face.”

I feel my nose crinkle. “No one would buy that.”

He scratches the side of his cheek, his fingers running over his beard. “Yeah, you might be right, but speaking of shirts, I saw one the other day that made me think of you.” He picks up a carrot and takes a bite out of it with a snap.

“You were thinking about me?” I cheekily ask.

His eyes connect with mine, the blue so brilliantly bright under the dim twinkling lights above us. “Seems like I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

Dear God.

I think…I think that’s another sign.

I mean, it sounds like one, but then again, am I willing these signs into existence? Am I hoping and praying that he’s sending me these vibes that I’m just assuming anything he says to me is a sign?

I want to believe that’s not the case, but this all feels too good to be true.

Hardy

Come on, Everly, can’t you see that I’m trying here?

I’m sending her all the signals, all the tools in my box, and she doesn’t seem to be taking the bait. And sure, what do I expect her to do? Climb on my lap and tell me that I’m the one she’s been waiting for? That would be amazing, but I’m just looking for her to lean into me.

I’m looking for any sort of non-friend movement from her, and I’m getting nothing.

“Here are your drinks,” Maple says as she comes up to us with two Moscow mules. “Enjoy. The caterers just put out the desserts, and I want one of those chocolate donuts before they’re all gone.”

With that, she sets our drinks down on the coffee table in front of us and hurries back inside.

“So,” Everly says as she picks up her drink, “what did this shirt that made you think of me say?”

You’re the one I croissant…but not sure I can fucking say that. Given my friend-zone track record today, it seems like that would fly over her head as well. So maybe I should settle for something simpler.

“It was of a crab,” I say. “And the crab was holding a paint brush and was wearing a beret.”

“Okay,” she draws out with a smile.

“And under the crab, who was looking pretty mischievous if you ask me, like he just painted something naughty, it said, ‘Leonardo Da Pinci.’”

Everly snorts and covers her nose at the same time. “Oh my God.” She laughs some more. “That is…that’s an amazing shirt.”

I lift a quizzical brow. “You like ‘Leonardo Da Pinci,’ but you can’t get on board with a fish coming out of a top hat?”

She shakes her head. “It makes no sense, Hardy.” She sets the plate down on the coffee table and scoots in close. “Why would the fish be coming out of the top hat? The saying is if you fish upon a star, which is a play on words from Pinocchio, right? So, if there’s a top hat involved, then you would think that the fish would be wearing a top hat like Jiminy Cricket.”

“I…” I pause, as her reasoning swirls in my head. “You know…” I chuckle and rub my palm over my beard. “I can see why there might have been some confusion about the shirt. It would make more sense for him to be wearing the top hat.”

“Thank you,” she says as she leans back against the couch. Because I have my arm draped behind her, she’s almost leaning into me, which of course makes my pulse kick up.

This is progress.

“But, just to put this out there, did you ever think that maybe the hat is acting as a fishbowl so he doesn’t shrivel up and die? Because how can you wish upon a fish if the fish is like a raisin in a dish?”

She studies me for a moment, those green eyes looking back and forth between mine. “Did you add the dish part to rhyme?”

“I did.” I wince. “Did it work?”

“A little.” She chuckles. “And I don’t accept your hat theory. I think the designer missed the mark.”

“Okay, how about this,” I say, feeling slightly confident as she leans into my arm. “I saw another shirt that made me think of you.”

“Oh yeah?” She crosses one leg over the other, which angles her body closer to me.

I want to put my hand on her thigh.

I want to twirl her hair around my finger.

I want to pull her on my goddamn lap and give Ken and Polly a run for their money.

But I hold back because baby steps.

Ease her out of the friend zone and right into the let’s make out zone.

“Yeah,” I answer as my hand itches to touch her hair.

“What was on it?”

“First of all, it was red.”

“Okay, how does that have anything to do with what’s on the shirt?”

“Because red looks amazing on you,” I say, looking her right in the eyes.

But she doesn’t hold my gaze, instead, she looks away. Not wanting to lose her in this moment, I decide to continue.

“And on the shirt were two croissants, one looked like Danny Zuko from Grease and the other was a dead ringer for Sandra Dee. We’re talking blond wig and black sideburns.”

She chuckles. “Who doesn’t like croissants dressed up like Danny and Sandy? What did it say?”

I smirk. “‘You’re the one I croissant.’”

A slow smile tugs on the corner of her lips. “That…that’s amazing.”

“I knew you’d like it. It had a heart between them as well. I could see you wearing it, possibly walking through the zoo with me—I’d be wearing my fish top hat shirt, of course.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten a matching one?” she asks.

“I mean, I considered it.” I take a chance and snag a piece of her hair. The silky strand wraps around my finger, and I marvel in the way her cheeks flush from the small touch. “Would you have worn it with me? Grabbed a cup of coffee? Maybe gone for a walk?”

Her teeth pull on the corner of her lip. “Is that what you would have wanted? To go on a coffee walk with me?”

Yes…and so much more.

I lean in an inch closer. “Yeah, Everly, I would have wanted to do that.”

Everly

Dear God in Heaven.

Is this…is this what it’s like to be wooed by Hardy Hopper? Because if so, I want this. I want all of this.

The close proximity.

The intimate conversation about matching shirts.

The compliments.

The way he’s twirling my hair around his finger.

I want to commit this all to memory.

I want this to last forever.

I want this to be real.

Please…please let this be real.

“Everly?” The catering manager comes up to me, pulling me out of my Hardy-induced haze.

“Yes,” I say, pulling away from him and trying to seem professional despite the alcohol swirling through me.

“We are going to start cleaning up. It seems like everyone is done with the food.”

“Oh sure,” I say as I get up. “Let me help you.”

“No, we got it, but just wanted to let you know. Also, it’s a quarter to eleven. I know curfew is going to hit soon.”

“Right,” I say. Christ, Everly, you have a job to do, and it isn’t to make a move on Hardy Hopper. “Um, I can start getting people to leave.”

“We spoke with Maple, and she said she’s already started moving people along. She said we could clean up and just make sure to shut the door behind us because it will automatically lock with the keypad.”

“Uh, yeah,” I say feeling my body sway. “Let me help though.”

“No, that’s okay. We got it. That’s why you paid us. Just wanted to let you know that we’re done with service.”

“Well, thank you. You were wonderful.”

“Exceptional,” Hardy says as he stands beside me and to my surprise, places his hand on the nape of my neck. “Really great service, from the drinks to the food.”

“Thank you. We appreciate it.”

Just then, Maple walks up to us with a smile. “I can handle this from here on out. Why don’t you two take off?”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” I say. “I can help out.”

Maple places her hand on my arm. “Seriously, you’ve done so much already. Let me take care of this part, okay?” When I don’t answer her right away, she adds, “Please.”

I don’t like it, but I also know that I’m drunk right now, and I’m not sure I have much fight in me to stay. “Okay, but only because you said please.”

She chuckles. “Thank you. Now, why don’t you and Hardy grab an Uber?”

“Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t want to do that,” I answer. “He’s probably sick of me by now.”

His thumb caresses my neck as he leans in and says, “Impossible. I could never get sick of you.”

Goose bumps spread down my arms and legs from the feel of his words so close to my ear.

“We’ll grab an Uber together,” he adds. “Want me to request it?”

“No,” I nearly shout. “Uh, I mean, I can handle it. Let me just run to the bathroom quickly and then we can take off, share an Uber, because you know, saving the environment with carpooling.” I fist pump the air and then without looking back, I hurry toward the house and straight to the bathroom.

Thankfully, no one is occupying it.

I swiftly take care of business, wash my hands, and then pull out my phone to shoot a quick text to Ember.

Everly:Red Alert! There was leaning, touching, and things that he said that have led me to believe that he might want to make a move. I am telling myself that this is not a delusional moment, that this is real. He even…*whispers* he twirled my hair and touched the nape of my neck.

Ember is quick to answer as her blue dots appear on the screen letting me know that she’s answering right away.

Ember:He touched THE NAPE?

Everly: The nape, Ember. He touched the nape.

Ember: Well, that’s…that’s all the indication you need.

Everly:You think so?

Ember: I know so. I think this is your moment.

Everly:Oh God, I think I might faint. He’s sharing an Uber with me. What if…what if he asks to come up to my apartment?

Ember: Do you think he would?

Everly:He TOUCHED THE NAPE!

Ember: Fair, but that could just be intimacy. We’re talking asking to go up to your apartment, which is a whole other level. That’s…“he ran his hand up my ribcage and connected with side boob” level. Did he do that? Did he connect with side boob?

Everly: There was no side boob connection.

Ember: Tough to say then. I guess just share the Uber and see where it goes.

Everly: Youthink I should share the Uber?

Ember:The NAPE, Everly. He touched the nape. Share the Uber.

Everly: You’re right…the nape has spoken.

HARDY

We watch Everly disappearin the house, and the entire time, I can feel my heart beating faster because I think I broke through to her.

At least that’s what I’m hoping.

But I did the universal move: I held the nape of her neck.

That should indicate to her that I claim her.

That I want her.

That I want so much more than this friendship we’ve created.

And if the neck contact doesn’t prove that to her, then I don’t know what else to do.

Well…I know what I could do. I could tell her. I could kiss her. I could really throw it all out there. But without knowing exactly where she stands, it’s too risky. I don’t want to lose her, lose our friendship.

Maple grips my shoulder and turns me toward her, startling me out of my thoughts. Her eyes are crazed, and her grasp on me is strong. “Listen up, Hopper. I have worked my ass off this entire party to get you two together. Don’t make me be the only one putting in the work.”

“I’ve put in the work,” I say, offended that she thinks she’s the only one working on this.

“Sure, you have, but I’ve set up the scenarios in order for you to shine.” She’s right about that. Left to my own devices, I probably would have been too awkward to talk to Everly all night. “Now, this is your moment. Seize it. When you arrive at her apartment, you offer to walk her up to her place like a gentleman. And when you say goodbye, if you don’t kiss her, then…then you’re going to have to sing ‘Lady in Red’ at the wedding, and we both know how terrible you are at singing.” “Lady in Red,” where the hell did that come from? “So close the deal, get the job done, and get yourself out of the friend zone. Understood?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “But what if she doesn’t want to kiss me?”

“She does.”

“How do you know that? I seriously can’t read her to save my life.”

“I think she’s nervous. Slightly oblivious. Make her aware in that car. Obviously don’t cross boundaries without permission, but a light graze here and there, hell, hold her hand on the way out to the street. Do anything to clue her in that all the freaking things we’ve said tonight, all our hints and all your touches were actually directed at her. Got it?”

I nod, feeling slightly pumped up. “I think so.”

“Don’t let me down, Hardy. I’m counting on this.”

“Can I ask why? Because it seems like you’re very into this coupling.”

“Because I know you. We were different people in college. Young kids, really. And as much as I was wary about coming back to San Francisco and seeing you again, tonight has been good for me. You’ve reminded me why we were such good friends.” She’s not wrong. I’ve also remembered the fun we used to have—the late-night hangs and inside jokes—especially when we spent time with Ken and Polly.

“We really did have some good times.”

She smiles. “We did, and now that I think we’ve crossed that bridge into friendship, I just want you to be happy. Everly is so wonderful, and I’d be sad if you didn’t get your shot with her. So, like I said, don’t let me down. Got it?”

I chuckle. “No pressure or anything. This is all for you.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” She lets out a heavy breath. “I think I need another Jell-O shot.”

Still chuckling, I stand just as Everly returns. “I plugged an Uber request in my phone. They’ll be here in six minutes.”

“Okay,” I say and then look around the backyard. “Uh, I don’t see Polly and Ken, and I don’t think I want to go looking for them.”

“Probably smart,” Maple says. “I’ll let them know you guys said bye.”

“Thanks,” Everly says. “Okay, we should get outside. I don’t want the driver to ruin my perfect rating because we showed up late.”

That’s a very Everly thing to say, and I love it.

“Then, let’s get going,” I say.

I glance at Maple one more time. She mouths “hold hands,” and I offer her a curt nod as Everly and I start to walk away.

Okay, this is your chance, Hopper, make the most of it. If you’re going to make a move…now’s the time.