The Perfect Match by Kristan Higgins Read Free Book Online

the ffffff—no, no, Honor wasn’t the type to swear, but really, what the ffff-ungus was that about?
    “Excuse me?” Honor said, and her heart beat so fast that she honestly felt like she might faint. “You’re getting married?”
    Brogan stopped talking. His face began to register something was off. “Uh, yeah.”
    Dana reached over and squeezed her hand. “Maid of honor? What do you say?”
    Right. Because if she asked Honor to be in the wedding, then clearly Dana was a wonderful friend. Clearly it wasn’t a case of swooping in and stealing—okay, not stealing, but definitely swooping—and taking Brogan. Brogan, of all people!
    And why not? Brogan was handsome and nice and wealthy and glamorous, and Dana was a shark. Honor had seen it before, little flashes of those lethal rows of teeth, but man-oh-man-alive, she never thought Dana would turn on her.
    Breathing. Right. Had to do that to stay alive. Honor sucked in a fast, hard breath, then another.
    Brogan was now looking downright concerned. “On?”
    She dragged her gaze from Dana’s face to his. “It’s Honor.”
    He blinked those ridiculous (now that she thought of it) turquoise eyes. “Uh, Honor, you’re okay with this, right? I mean, we were never...” He winced. “I thought...”
    “Honor? You’re not upset, are you?” Dana asked. “I mean, you and Brogan were never more than a friendly fu—”
    That was when the wine appeared on Dana’s yellow shirt, right splat on her chest, some beads of red rolling into her exposed cleavage. Dana’s mouth opened and closed like a trout pulled out of the water, and Honor realized her glass was empty.
    “Holy crap, Honor!” Dana shrieked, jolting backward in her chair. “What the hell?”
    Honor stood up, her legs shaking with shock and—and—and something she wasn’t used to feeling, but it seemed to be fury.
    Dana stood, too, mouth hanging open in outrage as she stared down at her shirt. She looked up. “You bitch!” she said.
    Honor shoved her. Not hard, but still. She wasn’t proud of it, didn’t plan it, but there wasn’t really much time to think, because Dana shoved back, much harder, and Honor staggered a little, bumping into her chair, and then Dana shoved her again, and she could smell the wine and “Sweet Home Alabama” was playing on the jukebox, and then they were falling, and there was some grappling, and Honor’s head jerked and a sudden pain lanced through her scalp—for the love of God, Dana was pulling her hair and it hurt, and she grabbed some of Dana’s adorable, silky hair (which smelled like coconut, very nice) and gave that a tug, and a chair fell on top of them, and time was weird, it was so slow and so fast at the same time, and then Brogan was hauling Dana off her. “Honor, what are you doing? ” Brogan asked, and Honor scrabbled up, too (hopefully not flashing anyone), then there was a crack and Honor’s face stung.
    Her best friend had just slapped her.
    Honor’s breath came in short gasps. A cocktail napkin was stuck to her left breast. She pulled it off and set it on the table.
    Oh, God.
    The bar was silent.
    “Honor.” Jack, her big brother, and who said they were never around when you needed them? “Are you okay?” he asked.
    She swallowed. “Peachy.” Her face hurt. The spot Dana slapped throbbed.
    Brogan looked absolutely bewildered. “Honor,” he said. “I—I thought...I didn’t realize...”
    “No? Well, then, you’re stupider than I thought.” Her voice was cool, despite the fact that she was shaking violently.
    “Let’s get out of here,” her brother said, and she loved him so much right then.
    “I can’t believe it!” someone barked from the bar, breaking the silence. Lorena Creech, the biggest mouth in town. “Honor Holland in a catfight! Wowzers!”
    “Come on,” Jack muttered. “I’ll drive you home.”
    But Honor just stood there another minute, unable to take her eyes off of Dana. Her friend . The one who watched movies