Chapter Forty-Four - Gianna
“Gi, wait up.”
Meg nearly topples over in her heels to chase after me, but I’m on the hunt for the missing bride and groom.
They have a ballroom full of people waiting eagerly for their first dance.
It’s on the itinerary, and Leigh better not fuck it up.
The band worked hard to learn how to play her favorite song.
“Leigh is being so selfish,” I mutter. After everything she put us through …
“Or maybe she wants to be alone with her husband?” Meg points out.
I glare sidelong at her. “Whose side are you on?”
“You sound like Alec,” she says with a laugh, referring to her middle sister.
“I just think it would be nice if they put in a little effort; we were all worried sick this day would never happen,” I say.
Meg nods. “Or maybe you should put in less effort.”
I scoff. Meg’s words from this morning still taunt me.
What do I want? I haven’t had time to consider that—not after my conversation with Queen Jorina was interrupted, not since I rushed to Leigh the second I heard she was back, and not while I sat through hair and makeup to ensure Leigh walked down the aisle on time.
We turn a corner, and we both stop short.
“Looks like we found them.” Meg snickers, while my cheeks heat.
Leigh has no idea we’re here; she won’t stop kissing her husband. The gasping breaths and silent words of love and devotion they whisper to each other make it clear they believe they are alone.
Seeing them in this stolen moment, tucked in a shadowed hallway, the sound of distant music muffled by thick walls, I understand what Meg was trying to say.
They don’t care what anyone else thinks. All they care about is each other.
Wilder sits with his back against the thick plastered wall, legs sprawled, pulling Leigh on top of him until she’s straddling his lap.
Leigh paws hungrily at his shirt, nearly ripping the stubborn buttons from his chest. His bow tie hangs loose, and his jacket must’ve disappeared ages ago because it is nowhere in sight.
They kiss fervently, greedily, tasting the night and all its possibilities.
His hands slip under the layers of her skirt.
Shoving the fabric up until it’s gathered around her waist, he exposes the garter circling her thigh.
When she kisses the sharp line of his throat, he groans deep in his chest, and the sound sends me glancing at my date, whose jaw is hanging open.
By the stars, I’ve been neglecting her all weekend, focusing more on this wedding than on her needs. Needs that certainly need tending to. Immediately.
I clear my throat pointedly. Leigh wrenches herself off Wilder’s lips to find me standing above her with Meg, arms crossed, both of us trying hard not to laugh at the sheer look of horror on both of their faces.
“I hate to ruin the moment,” I say, “but two thousand guests are waiting to watch you dance and shove cake in each other’s faces.”
“Tell them the bride and groom are a little indisposed,” Leigh shoots back as a grin slowly spreads across her face.
Wilder laughs, but I’m not letting them off that easily. Ultimately, it’s their decision whether to stay or go, but I want them to make an informed choice.
“Fine, go ahead and jump-start the honeymoon, but I won’t be the one to break the news to your mother and grandmother, Leigh. Jorina has been looking forward to this day since you were born, so go ahead and risk breaking her fragile heart.”
Leigh glares at me. “You’re evil.”
“You love it,” I reply.
“What do you want to do, Leigh?” Wilder asks.
Leigh looks back at him and smiles. “One dance, then we do as Gianna says and jump-start that honeymoon—”
“What about cutting the cake?” I exclaim, then reconsider.
“You know what, forget it. Do you, or each other. I don’t care.
” I grab Meg’s hand, turning to go. I don’t get far before I turn around again.
“Oh, and one more thing, I won’t be at breakfast tomorrow.
Meg and I are leaving after the reception for a camping trip to Lua to see the Northern Lights.
” I finally stalk off, dragging Meg with me, but I do catch Leigh and Wilder’s shocked whispers.
“Did she say camping?” Wilder asks.
“So that wasn’t a hallucination?” Leigh answers.
I smile.
“Northern Lights, huh?” Meg asks.
I stop walking, and so does she. “You know how you asked me about what I want?”
She nods, and I lower my eyes to the ornate carpet.
No one has ever asked me that question before, except for my counselors at rehab for my VT addiction.
If I’m honest, I want to make my own decisions.
I’m tired of feeling indebted to others.
I thought I had to shed my need to please people after I turned down Ry’s proposal, but it turns out that was just the tip of the iceberg.
I still genuinely want love—something to nurture rather than trade or run away from.
Even if it brings me pain, I want something real. I want Meg.
“I know what I don’t want. I never want to feel the kind of loss I experienced when I thought Leigh had died this morning,” I murmur, struggling to meet Meg’s gaze. But then I remind myself that I’m done hiding. That’s why I moved to Aurora two years ago. I’m no longer ashamed of who I am.
“That’s good,” she teases. “What else?”
“I want to be with you. I want to enjoy each moment together as it comes.”
She tilts her head, looking at me from under those enviable lashes. “And you know I want you, right?” I nod, blushing. “Good. Anything else? Don’t hold back. Lay it on me.”
“I want to kiss you,” I admit in a whisper, my voice curling into the space between us.
She arches an eyebrow. “Just a kiss?”
I step close enough to feel the heat rolling off her skin. My pulse stutters in her presence, and I can barely catch my breath. “For now,” I say, and it’s a promise. “I’m not an exhibitionist like those two.”
“Me neither.”
I tilt my chin up. “I’m waiting.”
Meg lowers her face to mine, her hands coming up to cradle my jaw. “Blessed relief.”
Her lips meet mine—soft as a petal, lush and deliberate. The kiss starts sweet, tentative, but there’s no mistaking the craving coiled beneath her lips and their movement. My hands grip her waist, fingers shaking as I pull myself against her solid form.
I refuse to move a muscle, fearing the moment will end before it even truly begins.