Page 59 of The Crush of Christmas Past
On my hundredth less-than-stealthy glance, Theo’s gaze catches mine, and he pins me with a stare that promises the fulfilment of every fantasy I’ve had since I was eighteen. My mind instantly launches into a detailed montage of daydreams where he plays thelead role of…everything.
Everywhere.
His eyes rake over me, and I shift in my seat, suddenly hyperaware of the silky emerald dress clinging to my skin. It dips low in both the front and back, held together by a delicate maze of crisscrossing lace ribbons.
I’ve forgone a bra—a reckless choice I don’t regret one bit. Not with Theo looking at me like he’s picturing the fastest way to strip me bare.
We haven’t even nailed down what our arrangement will entail—beyond, hopefully, someactualnailing—but the next step feels inevitable.
As the thought hits, I press my thighs together, chasing a modicum of relief. All the move does is pull my focus to the needy ache curling low in my core.
I run my tongue behind my teeth, pivoting my focus to Sienna’s fiancé instead.
Lucas stands at the front of the room, perfectly expressionless. Aside from one glimpse at his designer watch, he’s been frozen in place since taking his position. Unlike most grooms I’ve witnessed in action at the altar, there’s no anxious heel-bouncing, no restless cuff-adjusting, no shallow breaths betraying nerves.
Just cool, measured control.
Too cool.
The guy raises my hackles, but my unease probably stems from undying loyalty to my best friend. And while I’ll always beTeam Asher, I can’t deny there’s technically nothingwrongwith Lucas Lyle. He’s the definition of a catch—handsome, Ivy League–educated, both independently successfulandgenerationally wealthy.
Still…
Everything about him is so statue-like, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a beating heart under the cement exterior.
My eyes drift to Theo, seeking contrast. The entire room rearranges itself around him. Time slows and gravity resets.
He’s molded from marble too, but he wears the material differently. It’s volatile on him. Cold stone with hot blood beneath. A volcano always moments from eruption.
Lucas possesses none of that…life. The prickling uncanny valley effect has flared up all three times I’ve interacted with him. Tonight, it’s back with a vengeance.
I can’t shake the chill that twists my stomach at the sight of him.
Catching note of my shudder, Asher leans in. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod, drawing my wrap tighter around my shoulders. “All good.”
I’m clearly overreacting. Sienna wouldn’t marry someone fake. She’s too strong, too clever, too stable to fall for anyone who isn’t whollyreal.
“Youokay?” I toss his question back at him.
“Yup.” He flashes his trademark grin. “Positively ecstatic.”
Refusing to be fooled by his display of cheer, I raise my eyebrows. “We can go, Ash. Just say the word.”
“No way. I don’t want to miss out on the excitement.”
“Excitement? You’re a much better person than me. If—” My lips clamp shut, but my stupid gaze betrays me, instinctively swinging to the sharp profile across the aisle.
My slip-up doesn’t escape Asher’s keen eye.
“A million dollars to tell me what just flashed through your head,” he coaxes. “In vivid detail, please.”
Hell no.Absolutely not.
Despite our no-secrets policy, there’s no way I’m telling Asher that my brain spun a full-on fantasy of Theo’s wedding day. Decor, cake, a blushing bride—the works.
And I’mespeciallynot admitting that my heart let out a tiny, broken sigh when it realized I wasn’t the one at his side.
