I smile, turning to look up at Josh. He looks incredible. He’s pulled off his blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. My eyes trace his thick, muscled forearms before flicking back to his flushed face.
“Hey,” I say, reaching up to tug at his tie. “You look great in this.”
“Oh?” His eyes are unusually bright as he looks down at me. “Maybe I should wear it more often.” His deep voice is darker than usual, the clipped accent softening to a low purr. I blink as he wraps a hand around my waist, feeling the soft fabric of my dress. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, tugging me closer. Heat blooms between my legs, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of the heavy metal beads filling me up inside. “You always do.” He dips his head, pressing his face into my hair and breathing in deeply. I catch the faint smell of whiskey on his breath and suddenly realise what’s happening.
“You’re drunk,” I murmur, squirming slightly. “Holy shit. I’ve never seen you drunk.” Whenever we hang out, Josh usually sticks to water or soda. I’ve never seen him drink more than one beer at a time.
He hums, pulling me closer until our bodies are flush. My cheeks warm as his hand slides smoothly to the small of my back. “No.”
“You are.”
“I don’t think so.” He tucks his face in the crook of my neck. “You smell like cherries.”
“You’re such a little liar,” I say, fighting the urge to laugh.
He sighs against my skin. “Maybe we opened a bottle of whiskey in Rob’s room,” he admits. “Amy’s dad gave it to him as a gift. It would be rude to say no.”
I run a hand through his thick hair. “When was the last time you drank whiskey?”
“Couple years ago.”
I’m absolutely delighted. “Oh my God. Joshua Tran, nine-foot nightmare, is a total lightweight.”
“I’m really not drunk,” he insists, pulling back to look around. His dark eyes shine as he takes in all of the people smiling and chatting. “I had one shot, about five hours ago. I’m just… happy. Everything turned out perfect.”
“You love this stuff, don’t you?” I realise.
“Hm?”
“Weddings. Love. Family.”
He shrugs. “It’s nice to see everyone so happy.”
“You’re so cute,” I whisper, and his smile widens. He dips his face down to kiss me, but I pull back before our lips touch. “Uh uh. I’m here as Luke’s date, remember?” I’ve already shown him up by kissing Zack. I’m just hoping nobody saw.
“So? You’re dating all three of us, right?” He kisses the side of my cheek instead, and heat rushes through me.
“Yeah,” I say slowly, my heart hammering. “But if people see us together, they’ll assume it’s some big drama. The wife’s ex brought a date, and she was caught cheating on him with the best man. Shock. Horror. Scandal.”
He presses his lips under my jaw. “You’re not cheating,” he murmurs, his low voice rumbling through me. “No scandal.”
I close my eyes. “No, but no one else knows that. And I don’t want to make Luke look bad, or ruin your brother’s wedding. Today is his day.”
He sighs. “You’re right,” he says, not moving.
“... that means you can let go of me,” I prompt.
“I’m trying,” he says, holding me tighter.
I laugh. “Jesus, is this what lies under your rock-hard shell? A great big pile of mush? Pull yourself together, this is just embarrassing.”
He suddenly spins me in time to the music, pulling us both behind a huge flower arrangement bursting with white silk roses. “My brother’s here, dancing with the woman he loves. I just want a second with the woman—” He pauses, like he’s catching himself. “The woman I care about.”
My stomach lurches. I look up at him. He won’t meet my eye, but I can feel his body tensing under my hands. Like he’s bracing himself for the rejection.
I tug at his collar. “Aw,” I tease. “You care about me?”
He frowns. “Sorry. I meant to say despised. I get those words mixed up.”
“Uh huh.” I slide my hands down the hard planes of his chest. “And how long have you despised me?”
His eyes are swallowing me whole. “From the moment I met you.”
I can’t breathe. It feels like a cloud of butterflies is taking flight in my chest. “Loser,” I whisper.
He smiles then, so bright and sudden it almost hurts my eyes. “Layla,” he murmurs, his big hands cupping my cheeks.
“Josh!” I glance around us. “People could see—”
“Don’t care,” he murmurs, bending down and tugging my mouth to his.
FIFTY-EIGHT
JOSH
I’m almost dizzy with happiness as I kiss Layla slowly, holding her close.
I’m having the best damn day.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m tired as Hell. Since five this morning, I’ve been ironing ties, picking up clothes from the dry cleaners, and bringing people coffee. While she was getting ready, Amy kept writing soppy little romantic notes to my brother and demanding I pass them on to him. I probably would’ve refused, if he wasn’t so goddamn happy every time I came in with another one.
Pulling back from Layla for a second, I glance back at the dance floor. Rob is out there with Amy, twirling her under his arm to the band music. Warmth glows in my chest. He looks like he’s walking on air.
God, I love weddings.
Layla sighs, leaning against my chest, and I look back down at her. As if this day could get any better, now I have the most gorgeous woman in the room in my arms. I nuzzle into her temple, kissing down her hairline and across her ear. “This dress is incredible,” I murmur, smoothing the mint silk over her skin.
She doesn’t answer, yanking my mouth back down to hers. I tug her bottom lip slowly between my teeth, sucking on the soft flesh, and she makes a low choking sound, a shudder wracking through her.
I pause. Layla’s never usually this receptive. I suddenly realise that she’s sweating, trembling slightly against me. Her breath is coming in small, sharp pants.
“Hey.” I pull away. “Layla.”
She turns her face away, burying it in the front of my shirt. I run a hand down her back, left bare in her dress, and another shiver runs through her, more violent than the first.
This isn’t right. I carefully peel her away from me.
“Sweetheart?” I stroke her hair back from her eyes. Her face is bright red, and her chest is heaving. I frown, cupping her cheek. “Hey. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she mutters, leaning against me like she doesn’t trust herself to stand upright.
I’m getting increasingly alarmed now. I slide my hands down to her waist, holding her up. “Yes?”
She huffs. “Zack and Luke…” she bites her lip.
“Hm?”
“They…” she shudders against me as I stroke her back. “Ugh. You remember those balls that Zack gave me? From Sinsters?”
I blink at the change of subject. “I… yes?”
She gives a little shrug, shifting her weight slightly. “They put them inside me.”
I stare at her as all of the blood rushes out of my head. It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Then I swear.
“Christ, Layla. You were sitting there with toys inside you through that whole ceremony?”
“Yes,” she whispers, pushing closer. I can feel the strain in her body, the slight tremble in her hips. She’s been on the edge for a while.
“And they left you like this?” I ask, bending to breathe in the scent of her hair. “That’s just cruel.”
“Mmhm.” She looks up at me, her green eyes huge. “Help me?”
I look behind me at the party. We have the wedding photos scheduled in a few minutes. Any second, one of the bridesmaids is going to come looking for me. My entire body is screaming at me to grab Layla and carry her all the way back to our hotel room. But I can’t.
“Please?” Layla asks softly. She looks a mess; there’s a pink flush crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she’s breathing shallowly as she rubs her body unsubtly up against mine. I can’t leave her like this.
“Come with me,” I mutter, taking her hand.