Page 58 of Kiss the Bride

“So, the whole rebound thing. Define rebound for me?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “A relationship that feels real but is a temporary response to the disintegration of another relationship.”

“Oh. I see.” I let Hunter think about his words for a moment. “What part of our friendship isn’t real?”

“None of it. You know that. Somehow, through the sick and through sin, we’ve held onto our friendship.”

I giggle. We’d always joked when we got married, that the promise wouldn’t be throughthick and thin. Sick and sin seemed perfectly rebellious when we were still in our teens. Now I need Hunter to realize we’ve both grown up.

“Oh. Then it has to be the chemistry that isn’t real. Was it real the first time we were together?”

“It felt bloody real to me.”

“I’m glad,” I say before faking a yawn. “It would have been a shame if all that time you’d been faking.”

“I never faked jack shit with you, and you know it.”

“Thank you. Just for the record, I’d never faked with you, either.”

“What about after your high school formal?”

I spin around, the anticipation of his growing erection secondary to finding out how he knew. “What about my formal? My parents didn’t ask questions about where I stayed.”

“And my parents didn’t question the hotel bill. But you, my darling Olivia, had drunk too much, partied too hard, and the last thing you felt like was a sexual marathon.”

“We didn’t do it any other way, back then.”

“Your fake orgasm could have won awards.” He chuckles and mouths a kiss.

“You knew?”

“I loved you enough to let you sleep.” Hunter shrugs, his finger stroking from my hairline down my cheek, neck, and across my shoulders. No other touch has felt like bolts of electricity. No other man has turned me on by stroking down my arm and playing with my elbow. Suddenly, I want to write a book about all the erogenous zones that can only be discovered by a touch from The One. I’ll even write a bonus chapter about all the grand gestures that women will appreciate—starting off by accepting a fake orgasm when she is almost asleep.

“I loved having sex with you, but I was so tired,” I say, the words leaving my mouth without engaging my brain. “I mean, I wanted to feel you inside me and feel you, well, come. You wanted me to orgasm with you, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

“You never let me down.” Hunter’s breath is warm against my skin as he traces his finger from my hairline down to my cheek, my neck, and across my shoulders. My heart races, each beat echoing the intense longing I feel for him. “I wanted to make you happy, and accepting your faked orgasm so we could cuddle together made you happy.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than in this moment,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, words escaping before I can think. Hunter’s eyes lock onto mine, his expression softening, yet filled with intensity that sends shivers down my spine. He cups my face gently, his thumb brushing across my cheek. I feel the heat radiating from his body, our closeness electrifying. Hunter leans in, his gaze flicking to my lips, and my breath catches in my throat.

His lips touch mine, and the world around us vanishes. His kiss is soft at first, delicately exploring my mouth as waves ofheat coarse through my body. Hunter’s hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss as my hips roll towards him. There’ll be no faking anything tonight. No more rejection. No more excuses.

We’ve waited five years for our second chance.

My hands follow a familiar path under his shirt and up his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart under my fingertips as his kisses become more urgent. With each brush of his tongue, I feel the years being swept away.Hunter, Hunter, Hunter,a voice in my head sings his name and I need to stare into his eyes—just to prove this isn’t a dream.

With one hand still around my neck, holding me in place, his other hand wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Our bodies meld together, fitting perfectly as if we were always meant to be this close and other partners were only a temporary distraction. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of familiarity and something entirely new. It was always meant to be us.

Time seems to stretch and contract, the kiss stretching into eternity while at the same time feeling like a single, perfect moment.

It’s only a kiss but it feels like a new beginning and my head spins as my senses are overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his feelings. As I push up his muscle shirt so nothing comes between us when I trace down his chest, over his abs, and along his defined V, Hunter’s hands begin their exploration, tracing patterns down my back, pulling me closer, never letting me go. I feel alive, every nerve ending on fire, every cell in my body singing with joy even though I’m still wearing his tee and the thin fabric is between us.

Our first kiss lasts minutes but it feels like an eternity until we finally pull back, gasping for air, our foreheads resting againsteach other. Hunter’s eyes are dark with desire, and I know mine are mirrors to his.

“That was...” I start, but words fail me.

“The best kiss of my life,” Hunter finishes, his voice husky with emotion.

I smile, my heart swelling with happiness and hope. “Mine too.” But I’m still scared of all thewhat ifs. What if, we try, fail, and lose our friendship? What if, we can’t reclaim the magic? What if, Hunter was right? That the only reason I want this is to get over Mitch and that my feelings are less about Hunter, and more about me?

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