Page 16 of Three Pucking Wedding Dates

“You’re drunk,” I laugh, shaking my head. I haven’t seen him like this since he was a teenager.

“Maybe.” He’s not bothered by it in the least. Then, all of a sudden, he gets serious. “What’s going on with you and Reid?”

The question catches me off guard, and I start shaking my head, trying to figure out how to answer. “Why are you asking that?”

“I saw you.” He narrows his eyes at me, his grip getting a bit harder. “He’s a player, Oak. A…player. Look at ’em.” He gestures over at Reid, who’s still sitting at the bar, but he isn’t alone.

There’s a woman standing up beside him, lips in a smug little grin. He’s flirting with her, and she’s very happy to be accepting his advances.

It’s not a shock to me, though. Reid has been a playboy ever since I’ve known him.

“Gray, I—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he says, his gaze intense and unwavering. “You deserve so much…so much better.”

“Like you?” I whisper, knowing that’s where this conversation is going. Gray’s cheeks flush, and he looks down at his feet for a moment before meeting my gaze once more.

“Maybe,” he admits softly. “I can’t help it, Oakley. I can’t help but want you…can’t help but love you. No more fighting these feelings.”

Before I can respond, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. His kiss is slightly sloppy, most likely due to the alcoholcoursing through his veins, but it’s filled with passion and sincerity. My hands instinctively reach up to tangle in his sandy-blond hair as our lips move together.

We can’t do this. He’s drunk.

I pull away, breathless and flushed, and I’m left reeling from the intensity of our kiss. My thoughts swirl with confusion, jealousy, and desire—all mixed together in a dizzying cocktail. My heart races with uncertainty, but I know one thing for sure—we need to talk about this later.

“Gray,” I say firmly, my voice barely more than a whisper. “We’ll discuss this later, okay? When you’re sober.”

He nods, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and hope. “Okay, Oaks.”

The night has worn on, and I can feel the exhaustion settling in. It’s time to head home. Turning to Gray, I ask, “Do you have your phone? We should call Charlie to pick us up.”

“Yep,” he replies, fumbling for his phone in his pocket. As he hands it to me, our fingers brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through me. His touch is gentle yet filled with unspoken longing, and my heart aches.

With a shaky sigh, I unlock his phone and scroll through his contacts, eventually finding Charlie’s number. As I press the call button, I glance back at Gray. He’s leaning against the wall, watching me intently. For a brief moment, my thoughts drift to the passionate kiss we shared, the connection that seemed so real.

But then reality crashes down around me.

“Hey, Charlie,” I say when he answers the phone, forcing a cheerfulness into my voice that I don’t truly feel. “We need a ride back to the house. Can you come grab us?”

“Of course, Miss Price,” Charlie replies, his voice warm and familiar. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” I hang up and slip the phone back into Gray’s hand, our fingers brushing once more.

“Is he coming?” Gray asks, his eyes heavy-lidded, exhaustion beginning to seep into his expression. His earlier energy has dissipated, revealing a man who’s had far too much to drink.

“Yeah, he said ten minutes,” I reply.

Gray nods and leans against the wall, his eyes slowly drifting closed.

“Gray,” I murmur softly, wanting to reach out to him but holding back. “Stay awake, okay? Just until Charlie gets here.”

He manages a weak smile, his brown eyes opening just enough to meet mine. “I’m not going anywhere, Oakley.”

As we wait, I stand beside Gray, the warmth of his body radiating toward me. The steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting, grounding me in this moment. I want to savor it, to let myself believe that everything between us could be simple and easy.

But nothing in my life is ever simple and easy.

“Hey, Oaks?” he whispers.

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