Page 4 of Something Old

My father is so hell bent on keeping meuntouchedandperfect.

He never lets me have any fun. I’m not even allowed to go on chaperoned dates.

But tonight - at the wedding - well it would be rude of me not to dance withmygroomsman. Besides, my father isn’t here. This is the wedding of a rival family. I’m only here because Isabelle and I have been friends forever. And it took a huge amount of convincing to get my father to agree to let me come.

At the end of the day, it would have caused issues for the families if I declined the invite.

So here I am.

Dancing with the man that I have had a crush on since before I can even remember.

My body is pressed right up against his chest, and I can feel how solid his build is.

I’ve always wanted to know how he felt.

I giggle like a schoolgirl because that’s how he makes me feel.

I let my fingers slip up his neck, into his hair and I feel the goosebumps that spread over his skin. Mm. He likes it.

“Stop that.” He growls at me. Always so grumpy.

“Why are you scared of having a little fun?” I tease him.

He reaches back and drags my hand onto his shoulder.

I think maybe I just need to get him to have a few more drinks. The bridal party has been throwing back shots all night. My head is buzzing warm and fuzzy because of it.

Maybe if I get Frankie to give Mas a few extra shots, he’ll relax a little.

The music changes and Mas lets out a deep sigh of regret. It’s a slow song, intimate. Seductive. I rest my cheek on his chest and sway my body up against his.

Mas’ massive hand is resting on my lower back and the bolts of lightning its sending through my body are delightful.

I arch my back against his hand, and he clears his throat. He can feel the way I’m moving. He’s struggling with it. I can tell by the way he’s trying to move away from me.

I giggle, continuing my games until the song ends and he runs off the floor, back to our table.

I follow him, and when I get there, I enthusiastically demand “Shooters.” And Isabelle grins at me, lifting her empty shot glass while Frankie stands up to pour a few.

“I think Mas needs a double.” I say to Frankie. He chuckles and nods.

Mas doesn’t even notice when he gets handed a larger shot glass than everyone else.

Isabelle waves me over and I sit down next to her while the guys all talk on the other side of the table. I watch Frankie pouring them another shot.

“You like him, don’t you?” Isabelle asks.

I nod. “You know I’ve had a crush on him forever.”

“I know you used to - I didn’t know you still did.”

I roll my eyes. “Look at the guy. He’s like a work of art. A sculpture.”

“But he’s so moody.” She laughs.

“He’s not moody. He’s mysterious.” I reply with a giggle.

“You know your father would kill you - and him.”

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