Page 2 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

I've opted not to give a speech tonight, and Kylie didn't press me to, so my dad's best man gets up to do a toast. I've never met Quinn Young until today, but I've heard a lot—he helped Kylie get the part that shot her acting career into the stratosphere, and he's been my dad's best friend at the White Oak Society for years. Quinn is a bit younger than my dad—about forty-five if I had to guess—and he looks every bit the artist, with messy dark hair going silver in streaks, a well-groomed beard, and horn-rimmed glasses. He grins as he stands, and I can't help but notice that he's got a nice smile...and that he's surprisingly jacked in the shoulders.

Maybe that's the whiskey talking.

I should probably stop, I think, before I take another shot.

"Good evening, and thank you for gathering here to celebrate Gavin and Kylie. For those who don't know me, I'm Quinn Young, and I have the dubious honor of being Gavin's partner-in-crime and best man."

A few people laugh—mostly men from the White Oak.

"I met Gavin Sterling about ten years ago when he was a hotshot ad exec," Quinn says. "He was...completely convinced that he would be a lifelong bachelor and that his whole life was whiskey, and I completely agreed with him for years. And then, out of the blue, he calls me and says he met this girl."

Kylie bites her lip, her eyes shining as my dad reaches over to squeeze her shoulder. I have to admit she looks gorgeous, exactly like I knew she would, like a princess.

"Well, he didn't say he met this girl," Quinn chuckles. "Not exactly. I think what he said was more along the lines of, 'I'm in deep with this girl, I'm completely wrong for her, and I need you to convince me to let her go.' And I, being the hopeless romantic I am, gave her a job instead."

Quinn takes a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning the room before he continues.

"But the thing is, Kylie was never going to let him go. And for good reason—they're perfect for each other. She brought out a side of Gavin that I never thought existed, and I'm so glad she did. Because today, we're here celebrating their love and their commitment to each other. It's a beautiful thing, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for these two."

Quinn raises his glass, and the rest of the room follows suit. I take a sip of my own drink, feeling my eyes burn a little bit.

It's not that I'm not happy for them. I am. I truly am.

But there's a part of me that's so envious of what they have—of what they're building together. I want that for myself, too. I want someone who looks at me the way my dad looks at Kylie.

I want my best friend back.

And I wish that my dad had ever cared about me even half as much as he loves his new wife.

The reception gets into full swing after the speech once we've all had our meals and get up to dance. The full moon hangs over the dancefloor by the lake, twinkle lights strung up around the edges, flowers everywhere. It smells good out here, like roses and carnations, and I get lost in the flavor of whiskey as I dance the night away. I spin around in circles with Sophia and her friend Bryn, sing along with Kylie, and I even share an awkward dance with my father.

I excuse myself as the night winds down, going out to a secluded spot to look at the lake. There's nowhere to sit, so I just crash on the grass in my pretty pink bridesmaid dress with a heavy sigh. I take a deep breath in and exhale it out, knowing I've had a little too much to drink.

I wish I'd taken it easy. I wish I had a cigarette. I've only smoked once or twice, but this night just...feels like the kind of night when it would be nice to have one.

I snap my head up at the sound of footsteps crunching in the gravel by the lake, and I peer at the shadowy figure coming toward me for a couple of seconds before I realize it's Quinn.

"Hey," he says—rough, gravelly. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I call back. "I'm not doing anything, though."

"Sounds great."

He comes over and sits down on the bank with me, his elbows resting on his long legs. His hair is mussed up, his glasses crooked, and he's unbuttoned his white silk shirt halfway down his chest to reveal a thatch of curly dark hair.

I want to touch it.

Down girl.

He doesn't say anything for a good few minutes, instead offering me a bottle. I put my hand up to push it away at first, but then I realize it's water, and I take it with a grateful smile.

"Was it that obvious?" I ask with a blush—not that he can see it in the dark.

He shrugs. "I'm used to keeping an eye on people. Don't worry about it."

I nod, taking a sip of water before looking back out at the lake. The moon has disappeared behind the clouds, but the stars still twinkle above us. It's quiet except for the sounds of the night—crickets chirping and distant laughter from the reception behind us.

"It's strange, isn't it?" I say after a while, feeling bold enough to speak my mind. "Being at your best friend's wedding."

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