Through clenched teeth, I snapped, “Dorian. Enough.”
He blinked innocently, pointing straight at Elara’s chest. “What? Adrian, you haven’t seen it yet?”
Then he actually reached for the collar of her wedding dress. “Let the groom see for himself—”
“Dorian!” Elara shrieked, batting his hand away, but there was no real fury in her eyes.
The laughter around us only grew louder.
“Dorian really understands Elara!”
“That’s what true friendship looks like!”
Elara Ashbourne glanced at me nervously. “Adrian, don’t overthink it. He’s just a jokester. We grew up together like this.”
I opened my palm—the blood was already dripping between my fingers.
Her resistance looked more like performance than protest. Nothing about him felt like a ‘best friend.’
The head bridesmaid quickly tried to smooth things over. “Alright, enough! Adrian, come inside and pick up the bride.”
The others began to chant. “The groom has to show off a silly dance move!”
I turned my gaze back to Dorian, sneered, and suddenly lunged. I ripped open his jacket, exposing his abs.
“Since you’re so close to her, Dorian, why don’t you do the dance? Maybe one of the guys here will fall for you!”