Chapter 46
Trystan
T he wedding reception pressed in around me—a suffocating maze of clinking glasses and too-loud laughter. Every face I passed was wrong. Not her. Not her. Not her.
Through gaps in the crowd, I caught glimpses of my brother spinning his new bride across the dance floor. Their joy was infectious, spreading through the room like champagne bubbles. But watching them only highlighted the hollow ache in my chest, the weight of chances I'd nearly lost. For the first time ever, I could see myself waiting at the altar from my bride—for my Camryn.
The music shifted into a slower melody. Bodies swayed, couples drew closer, and I saw her. Cam. The sight of her hit like a physical force, stealing my breath. She stood at the edge of the crowd, one hand absently toying with the stem of her champagne glass. The way her ocean blue dress hugged her curves had me biting my bottom lip as I pictured ripping it off her.
God, she was beautiful. And terrifying. Looking at her now, I could see every possible future stretching out before us. Every way, I could lose her again. Every way, I could finally, finally get it right.
She hadn't noticed me yet. I had a moment to drink her in—the way her hips moved to the music, like no one was watching, made my pulse quicken. After three hours of polite small talk and mandatory photos, this was the first time I'd felt like I could breathe all day.
Her eyes found mine across the room, and everything else fell away.
I slipped behind her, my hands finding her hips. "You look so fucking beautiful," I purred against her ear as my fingers tightened around her hips, and I tugged her flush against me as her hips swayed with the music. "And I really want to kiss you." Her body melted into mine. I pressed my lips to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Do you want to get out of here and get some fresh air?"
"Yes." Her shoulders relaxed like she'd been holding the weight of the world. "I need a break from peopling." Camryn was a people person, a social butterfly, but it was obvious she was overwhelmed right now. She'd come here a few days ago as Owen's girlfriend, and now she was mine, and that left a lot of questioning and judgmental looks from friends and family. Technically, we'd never publicly dated, so no one knew the background story between her and me.
What pissed me off the most was that she was taking the brunt of it, not the one who cheated on her. Then again, they didn't know that because she wouldn't tell them. She'd said it wasn't anyone's business. She was trying to be the bigger person, but it infuriated me that Owen allowed people to think this was her fault.
I laced my fingers through hers, and the crowd seemed to sense our need to escape, parting just enough to let us slip through.
The cool night air hit us when we pushed through the doors. Music became muffled, replaced by the distant rhythm of waves. Cam's shoulders dropped on an exhale that seemed to come from her soul.
"Watch your step," I murmured, leading her down the wooden path.
The wood gave way to sand gradually, like the beach was reaching for us. When Cam's bare feet hit the sand, she curled her toes into it with a soft sound of pleasure that shot straight through me.
I spun her around and pulled her into a hug.
"It's so quiet out here." She nuzzled against my chest, voice soft. "It's nice."
My fingers combed through her hair, soft strands catching the moonlight. "It's been a long day."
"It's been a long week."
Sand shifted beneath my feet as I turned toward the shoreline. "You want to go for a walk?"
"Yeah." She sighed. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."
I reluctantly loosened my hold, studying her face. "Okay... what's up?"
She started to walk, and I followed. "So..."
I could hear the nervousness in her tone. "So?"
She took another step forward and turned toward the crashing waves before sinking down to the sand, and I followed suit. "So, everything happened really fast this week," his gaze lifted, meeting mine, "and we really haven't talked about any of it. We've just kind of fallen into a role, I guess. I feel like with everything that's happened, we should make things very clear for each other."
She needed reassurance, and I couldn't blame her. I caught her chin with gentle fingers, turning her face to mine. "You're my girl..."
"Am I?" Her voice cracked on those two syllables. The breeze picked up, carrying strands of her hair across her face, but she didn't move to brush them away. Behind us, muffled laughter and music drifted from the reception, a stark reminder of how separate we were from that celebrating crowd.
The lump in my throat grew painful. "What are you saying?"
She drew her knees to her chest, making herself smaller. "You never asked me to be your girlfriend." Her attempt at a casual shrug couldn't hide the tremor in her shoulders. "You just... decided we were." My eyes narrowed as I thought back to that night in her bed.
The sand shifted beneath me as I pushed to my knees. Each grain caught the moonlight, turning the beach into a sea of diamonds. "You're right." My voice came out hoarse, raw with everything I needed to say.
Her breath hitched as I moved in front of her. The waves crashed behind us, but all I could hear was the quick flutter of her pulse when my fingers found her ankles. "Camryn."
Time slowed, and the electricity crackled between our bodies. My hands traced up her calves, feeling the tremor in her muscles. "I am so obsessed with you." The words came out deeper than intended, betraying how much I was holding back. "I always have been. I was just too scared, too stupid to admit it to myself."
A ghost of a smile played at her lips. I eased her legs apart, settling between them. Her dress—that maddening piece of fabric tempting me all night—shifted around her hips. "I meant every word I said."
The ocean breeze caught her hair, carrying the scent of her perfume… vanilla and something uniquely her. It made my head spin. "You were made for me." I leaned closer, close enough to feel her heavy breath against my skin. "And I was made for you."
My thumbs traced circles on her knees, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. "No other man gets to touch you. Ever. Again."
Her lips parted. Waiting. The tension between us pulled as tight as a bowstring. "Camryn Young." I brushed my lips against the corner of her mouth, feeling her sharp intake of breath. "Will you..." Another kiss, this time at the opposite corner. "Please..." The word was barely a whisper against her lips. She swayed toward me, eyes heavy-lidded. Everything I'd ever wanted was right here, wrapped in satin and starlight. "Be my girlfriend." My forehead rested against hers. "Because I can't picture my life without you in it."
"Yes." The word floated between us, barely a whisper. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The waves crashed. The stars wheeled overhead. Her eyes searched mine in the darkness, holding secrets I was only beginning to understand.
I lifted my hand to her face, giving her time to pull away. She didn't. Instead, she leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering closed as my thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone. The trust in that simple gesture nearly broke me.
"Cam." My voice was rough, foreign to my own ears. She opened her eyes, and the look in them—vulnerable, wanting, still somehow hesitant—pulled me in like gravity.
The first brush of my lips against hers was slow. Testing. Asking permission. Her fingers curled into my shirt, not pulling, just holding on, like she needed an anchor. I felt her exhale shake against my mouth.
Then she pressed closer, and the last thread of my control snapped.
My hands slid into her hair, cradling her head as I deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet, like champagne and strawberries. When her lips parted on a soft gasp, I traced the seam with my tongue, drinking in the little sound she made in response.
Her body melted into mine, tension releasing. My free hand found the small of her back, supporting her as I eased her onto the sand. The movement broke our kiss for a moment, and I caught a glimpse of her face—lips parted, cheeks flushed even in the moonlight, eyes dark with desire.
Sand shifted beneath us as she pulled me back down to her. This kiss was different—deeper, hungrier. Her teeth grazed my bottom lip, and satisfaction rumbled in my chest. I traced the curve of her waist, feeling her arch slightly into the touch. Each response, each tiny reaction, was a victory, a piece of proof that she wanted this—wanted us—as desperately as I did.
The waves provided rhythm, and the moon was our only witness. Salty air mixed with the scent of her skin, her perfume, and the lingering sweetness of wedding cake on her tongue. Everything narrowed to points of contact: her fingers in my hair, my hand spanning her ribs, the press of her heel against my calf.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. I rested my forehead against hers, unwilling to put even that much distance between us. Her heart raced under my palm, matching the wild tempo of my own.
If we didn't stop now, I was going to fuck her right here in the sand with hundreds of our family and friends just a few feet away.