Page 50 of Ticket to You

The bride’s eyes shine with a fox-like glint. “Here’s your quote,” she says, her words slurring a bit, “I demand no…more…pictures. You are to spend the rest of the evening with that woman over there because I know love when I see it.” She grins up at the groom, pecking his neck with a kiss. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, so your job is done. Go enjoy the final songs!”

During this trip, work has kept me a safe distance from Ophelia, from acting on my undeniable attraction to her. The thought of the excuse of work disappearing makes my chest tighten. “I need to—”

“Youneedto get over there, or I will have the royal guard throw you out of the party! It’s an order. Now,go!” She crosses her arms and tries to look serious, but I can see a laugh bubbling under the surface.

I huff, stuff my camera back into its case, and grab a glass of champagne from a passing server. I tip my head back, swigging the drink.

Ophelia snaps photos of me as I walk to her, and I can see her half-suppressed smile peeking out from behind her camera. When I’m close enough, I grab the strap on either side of her neck, letting my hands pause for a moment, just long enough to feel the blood pulsing under her skin. I push the strap over her head, put her camera in my bag, and lay it aside in a nearby bush.

“Hey, Birthday Girl.”

Ophelia stares at me. Standing this close, I can see the dimension in her hazel eyes, their outer rings of dark green, and the gold flecks near their pupils. Her eyes shine with a mixture of warmth and playful mischief, drawing me further into their enchanting depths.

“Iwouldask you to dance,” I say, “but I’m a bit bruised from your rejection at the holiday party.” I smile, something that has been coming more naturally this week than ever before.

Ophelia shakes her head slightly and grins. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. Once we’re huddled in the group of swaying couples, she turns and wraps both hands behind my neck. I follow her lead and place both of my hands at her waist, squeezing my fingers gently against her. My breaths grow shallow.

By the intensity of her gaze, I can tell Ophelia is analyzing my every move as much as I am hers.

“Have you had a nice birthday?”

“The best one in years.” Her raspy voice is layered with gentleness.

Ophelia almost seems to glow, like my own personal sun. I guess that makes me Icarus. Every movement she makes is accompanied by a gentle swish of her dark purple dress, a mesmerizing whisper of grace.

Before I realize I’m doing it, I’m drawing nearer to Ophelia. Her hands trail the back of my neck softly, and a ripple moves up my spine in response. Those two little movements between us are enough to know that something between us has irrevocably shifted. And with that, my self-control unravels. I grip Ophelia’s waist tighter, moving my thumbs in small circles.

When Ophelia moves her fingers to the nape of my neck and runs them through the bottom of my hair, I melt. She pulls closer to me, peering up with what I swear looks like desire. I feel like I might burst into flames.

“There’s an hour left in the day and you still haven’t asked me your question,” Ophelia says, skirting around the fact that we’re in each other’s arms.

I inhale, breathing in her vanilla perfume. “I’m trying to narrow it down to one.”

“I am a rather fascinating person, so I can’t blame you for the indecision. What are you deciding between?”

I take my time answering, careful to pick my words carefully. Surely, Ophelia knows that my feelings toward her are changing—hell, anyone on this dance floor could probably take one look at me and know how I feel about her—but admitting my feelings out loud is still a risk.

“Part of me thinks I should ask you something safe like ‘Where is the best place you’ve been?’ Or ‘What’s your favorite color?’ And another part of me wants to ask…if I kissed you, would you hold it against me?”

Ophelia’s mouth drops open just enough for a few shaky breaths to pass through her full lips. “No,” she says after an antagonizing long pause.

I clench my jaw and lean even closer to Ophelia. “No…” I whisper, my voice ragged, “as in ‘no, don’t do it’ or ‘no, I wouldn’t hold it against you?’”

One of Ophelia's hands moves to cup my face, and I feel a sudden vulnerability wash over me. It's as though all the walls I've created to protect myself have crumbled down, leaving me exposed to the emotions that have been brewing in me since the day we met. Without hesitation, our lips meet in a kiss that seems to consume us both. The tension and frustration that has been building between us for the past three months melts away, replaced by a sense of aching longing.

I taste the sweetness of the champagne on Ophelia’s lips, and I realize that this is what I've been missing.Opheliais what I’ve been missing. Her touch sends electricity through me as she pulls me closer to her. She cinches her arms around me, and I would be content if she never let go.

27

OPHELIA

What have you done?Do you realize what’s on the line?

Adam’s lips part, a soft moan escaping against my lips, and the cautionary voices slip from my mind. He kisses me deeper, his palms moving behind me, pressing against my bare skin at the low-cut back of my dress. When I imagined kissing Adam, which I, admittedly, did quite frequently in the past few days—okay, fine, the past few months—I imagined his mouth being cold and hard, like kissing a statue. But it’s the opposite. His velvet lips mold to my own, gentler and more human than anything else I’ve felt.

I can barely hear the song shift from a slow love song to a Britney song, but it’s enough to remind me where I am. It takes everything in me to pull my face away from Adam. My fingertips, however, remained tangled in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, unwilling to let go.

“Baby One More Time”blares through the speakers. Its infectious beat fills the room and a surge of energy courses through the crowd. Laughter and cheers echo between the wedding guests as they lean into the rhythm. Amidst the chaos, Adam and I remain locked in our private world, swaying in slow, perfect harmony.

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