Page 21 of Indiscretion

“Oooh. Messy.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Emily watching us. It made me smile that she didn’t seem happy. “Don’t look now, but your mean girl is at three o’clock, and she looks like she’s regretting her bad decisions. I think my ploy to make her feel jealous worked.”

“Wasn’t a hard job. Emily doesn’t like it when people are prettier than her.”

That stupid flutter went off in my belly yet again, even if he was just being nice.

“And for the record,” Dawson said, “I really wasn’t jealous. I’m more pissed off that she’s turned shit at work into a living hell. She acts like I’m the one who did something wrong, stomping around like it was me who screwed someone on her desk.”

“It sounds like maybe you hurt her by admitting you were seeing other people, and she wanted to hurt you back.”

The song we were swaying to came to an end, and the DJ asked everyone to find their seats. Dawson didn’t loosen his grip.

“Hang on a minute.”

I tipped my head up to look at him.

“Are we still playing a couple? You know, to piss off Emily.”

“Sure. If you want to.”

He slid one hand up my back, then brought it around to cup my cheek. Our faces were so close, his breath tickled my lips. Dawson stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I should probably kiss you then. You know, if she’s watching.”

My eyes slanted to where Emily had been standing. She was now sitting on her date’s lap, busy playing kissy face with him. But when my gaze returned to Dawson, the way he was looking at me took my breath away. He leaned closer, and it felt like we were the only two in the room. “Is she watching?”

I nodded.

He smiled. There was something almost sinister in the way his lips curved at the edges, and it made me wonder if he knew I was full of shit. But before I could debate it too long, he pulled my face to his and kissed me.

It was just a light brush of our lips. Probably enough to make his ex jealous, if she was watching, but definitely not enough to quell the desire I currently felt. I wasn’t sure what the hell came over me—maybe it was the year of celibacy, or maybe it was the glass of wine I’d had a few minutes before we hit the dance floor—but I needed more. And so… I decided to take it. Right here, right now.

My fingers tangled into Dawson’s hair, and I held him to me. Our lips parted, tongues collided, and gentle flew out the window. The kiss quickly grew desperate. Dawson grabbed a thick clump of my hair, and he yanked my head back to gain access to my neck. A moan vibrated between us, and I wasn’t sure if it was me or him. It felt like this man wanted to swallow me whole, and in the moment, I would have let him, even on the dance floor.

I was breathless and woozy by the time our kiss broke. Our chests heaved up and down, and I couldn’t feel my legs. When my hazy vision came into focus, I foundEmilywatching again. I cleared my throat, but my voice was still small. “She saw.”

A slow smile spread across Dawson’s handsome face. “Who gives a shit? That was for me, not her.”

Chapter 6

DAWSON

Later that night, after the wedding was over and we were back at the cabin, I came out of the bathroom and found Naomi sitting on the couch. Her hands covered her face and her shoulders shook.Shit. She’s crying.

My gut told me to turn around, go back into the bathroom, and quietly shut the door. I sucked at tears, especially drunk ones, and Naomi was pretty inebriated. But when I looked over a second time, my heart squeezed and I just couldn’t do it. So I took a deep breath and soldiered out to the living room.

“Hey. What’s going on?” I asked in my most gentle voice. “Are you okay?”

She snorted. “My stupid hair.”

“What?”

Tears rolled down her face, smacking into a giant goofy smile.Thank fuck.She wasn’t crying; she was laughing. Naomi spat words out between fits of giggles, so she wasn’t so easy to understand. But I caught the wordshairandzipperand managed to put two and two together. Sure enough, I looked behind her and found a clump of her hair stuck in the zipper of her dress. This woman was a complete disaster.

“Are you always this big of a train wreck?”

Her answer was a loud, high-pitchedhiccup. We both lost it after that. Tears rolled down my face, and Naomi continued to hiccup between snorts. By the time we were able to control ourselves, there was a streak of black mascara down her cheek.

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