Page 38 of About That One Night
“Well,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, my lips quivering into a half-smile, “at least you got it out ofthe way. Now I can have my small, beachside wedding without any guilt.”
Lily raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and skepticism. “Oh no, when you get married, you’ll go through the same torture.”
“No,” I insist, my voice rising slightly. “But why argue . . . I’m just saying, hypothetically, when I do get married . . . if I get married . . .”
My voice trails off, and I stare into my champagne glass, suddenly feeling very small and very alone. The words “if I get married” echo in my mind, each repetition a tiny stab to my heart.
Lily gives my arm a gentle squeeze before standing up, her eyes soft with concern. “I should get back to Ethan. You okay here?”
I nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Go on, I’m fine. Enjoy your hubby.”
As Lily makes her way down the aisle, my eyes follow her, and that’s when I spot him. Maximillian McCallister. The guy I want to have, can’t have, but maybe I will. He threatened to torture me with his tongue one of these nights—preferably on the beach, right by the ocean. And he’s hoping to take me skinny dipping too.
Time seems to stand still as we look at each other. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel a rush of conflicting emotions—mostly desire. My heart begins to race, pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears. The champagne in my system amplifies everything, making the moment feel surreal and charged with electricity. I want to look away, to break this spell, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes from his.It’s like we’re the only two people on this plane, in this world.
And suddenly it hits me, what if there’s a lot more—this thing between him and me. What if it’s moving to a place where . . .This can’t be happening,I think, gripping the armrests of my seat so tightly my knuckles turn white. Nothim.
The rational part of my brain screams at me to look away, to ignore him, to remember all the reasons why anything other than friends with benefits and fun outings with him would be a bad idea. Not just bad, terrible.He’s just like Tom.
But there’s another part, a part fueled by champagne and loneliness, that wants to hold his gaze forever, to see what might happen if I let my guard down just this once. So maybe the whole ‘my baby sister found love and is engaged’ brought on the whole conversation about my future with Tom, but that wasn’t the only thing.
There was also Max.
Unpredictable and thoughtful Maximillian McCallister.
A man who would rather spend hours talking to me at night about everything and nothing than fall asleep by ten because it’s what his fucking trainer recommended. “It’s the only way I’ll have a lengthy life, Zoe,” Tom would say when I suggested we watch a movie together or . . . live a little.
And maybe now that I’m single I should live a little and let someone like Max swoop me off my feet for one night. Because I know that’s all he offers, nothing else. I shouldn’t though and since I can’t lookaway, I close my eyes. Big mistake. For a moment, I wonder what it’d be like to kiss him right here in front of everyone. I imagine him suddenly standing in front of me, pulling me to him and leaning down closer to my lips, his breath warm against my cheek as he whispers, “Zoe, babe. I fucking miss you.”
Then, I would let go of my reservations and close the distance between us. Our lips would meet in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, a searing connection that’ll send sparks through my entire body. His hand would cup the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t get enough.
Melting into him, my hands will find their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. The kiss would be like everything and nothing I’ve ever experienced. Fierce and passionate, yet tender and adoring. Every brush of his lips, every movement of his tongue against mine . . . I open my eyes because that’s not how kisses happen or how life goes, though.This isn’t some cheesy romantic comedy where I get the reluctant guy and we live happily ever after.
When I glance his way I catch a hint of something in his gaze—regret? Longing? Love? Or am I just projecting my own conflicted feelings?
I shake my head, trying to clear it.This is ridiculous, I think. We’re adults. We have an agreement and I shouldn’t confuse one thing with the other. This is casual.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Maximillian
The black SUVrolls to a stop in front of the grand entrance of the seaside resort. I take a deep breath and step out into the warm, tropical air. The salty breeze caresses my face as I take in the scenic beauty of the wedding venue.
Towering palm trees line the circular drive, their fronds swaying gently. The resort’s pristine white exterior gleams in the sunlight, with elegant arches and columns framing the entrance.Clusters of tropical flowers in vivid shades of red, pink, and orange artfully accent the immaculate landscaping. Staff bustle about, guiding arriving guests and taking care of the luggage as they unload it from the cars.
I have to give credit to my best friend—he’s spoiling my sister the way she deserves.
“Son, help your mom, please,” Dad calls out. I turn back around to help my mom. She takes my hand with a grateful smile, her eyes shining with the same excitement and emotion. Her little girl is finally getting married.
“This is more beautiful in person, Audrey,” Mom says, her voice thick with emotion, the kind only a mother of the bride can muster. Her lips quiver slightly as she adds, “You two need to do something like this.”
Jacob, who sits in the very back of the vehicle, clambers out next. His eyebrows shoot up, and he nearly trips over his own feet. “We two?” he asks, sounding alarmed. “I already told you to stop dictating my love life, Mom. Boundaries.”
“Boundaries.” I nod in agreement, surprised that my little brother is fighting her instead of just nodding and ignoring.
Mom’s shoulders slump dramatically. “What’s the point of having three children if none of you are giving me big weddings and grandbabies?” She casts a pleading look at Dad, as if saying, “Talk some sense into your children.”
Dad chuckles, patting her hand. “Let them be, love. They’ll figure it out.”
