Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ALEJANDRA
I’ve really missed waking up next to Clara.
I can’t believe it’s already here!
I look to my right at Clara, still sleeping peacefully beside me, her blue hair sticking lightly to her forehead. I should let her sleep a little longer, but I can’t help but lean in and kiss her. She stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open.
“Hey,” she whispers, her voice husky with sleep.
“Morning.” I lean in to kiss her again.
Her hand finds mine under the sheets before intertwining our fingers and deepening our kiss.
My hand moves to her face, cupping her cheek, and that’s when it hits me, this warmth spreading through my chest. Not the fiery, lose-yourself kind of heat.
It’s softer— calm and electric all at once.
I could stay in this moment forever and never need anything more.
Our kiss intensifies slowly at first, then deepens, becoming hungrier with every second. She presses closer, the heat between us building fast.
“I want to,” I whisper, eyes still closed. “But if I don’t get up now, we’re not leaving this bed for a long time.”
“That’s fine with me,” she teases, drawing me into another deep kiss.
My hand slides from her cheek to her waist, pulling her in until there’s barely space between us, wanting to get lost in her, but I can’t. I have to leave soon, and I still have to get ready. I groan softly against her lips, resting my forehead against hers.
Clara exhales a quiet laugh before planting another soft kiss on my lips. “Go get ready before Diana panics about you being late.”
I nod and swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit there for a second, trying to remember how to breathe normally.
When I finally get up, I shower, brush my teeth, and pull out my outfit for the day, a sleeveless V-neck black jumpsuit with a cinched waist and deep pockets.
The fabric is soft and breathable, with enough stretch to let me move freely while still looking put-together.
I wouldn’t normally wear black to a wedding, but Diana and Alex have asked everyone to wear black so their white dresses stand out in every picture, a trick I will probably steal for my own wedding—if it were ever to happen.
I can’t help but glance toward Clara at the thought, picturing her in a white tux. I am getting way ahead of myself.
I head to our bathroom, where the lights hum softly as I hop up onto the sink, legs crossed at the ankles, my mess of a makeup bag open beside me.
I’m usually way more organized than this bag makes me look, but I threw everything in my car last night to get here more quickly.
Honestly, I’m surprised my jumpsuit isn’t wrinkled.
Movement catches my attention in the mirror, and I watch as Clara leans against the doorframe with only a long T-shirt on, arms crossed over her chest, watching me.
I try to ignore her and swipe concealer under my eyes, waiting for her to say something as I attempt to blend it without showing how nervous she is making me right now. She doesn’t usually watch me apply my makeup.
“You’re staring,” I say, locking eyes with her in the mirror.
She shrugs, a lazy grin on her lips. “Can you blame me?”
With a smile, I turn my attention back to the mirror, doing my best to make the wing of my eyeliner as sharp as possible before attempting to glue eyelashes on.
I should be moving faster. I’m already running behind, but there’s something kind of peaceful about the way Clara’s just .
. . looking at me. Like I’m art. Like the way I curl my lashes matters more than it does.
She steps closer, resting her chin on my shoulder, catching my eyes in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I pause, taking a look at myself. My makeup is half done, a wing is missing on one eye, my eyelashes still haven’t been glued on, and I applied entirely too much blush.
“Even like this?”
“Always,” she says, voice low as she presses a kiss to the back of my neck.
I don’t reply, just let the warmth of her words settle in as I go back to finishing my makeup, a smile lingering as she continues to watch.
I start working on my second wing when Clara flashes me a cheeky grin and slowly peels off her T-shirt, eyes locked on me through the mirror, and my mind goes blank at the sight of her.
“Am I distracting you?” she teases.
But I don’t say anything, I just stare as she slips into the shower, my mind entirely too scrambled to speak or move.
The water of the shower turns on, and Clara yelps, breaking whatever spell I was under.
I smirk. “Payback.”
Clara laughs. “Rude.”
As she showers, I finish my makeup and head back into our room, frantically searching for the shoes I had planned to wear today, but I have no idea where they are.
After looking for far too long, I finally find them and slip on my favorite square-toe block-heel sandals along with my favorite chunky gold earrings and a delicate gold necklace with an emerald in the middle.
I sling my camera bag across my chest, double-check my batteries and memory cards, and grab the rest of my gear before heading toward the door.
I’m about to call for Clara to tell her I’m leaving, right as she steps out of the bathroom, and I forget how to breathe. She’s in a perfectly tailored black suit. Her damp blue hair brushes her shoulders, somehow looking effortless and electric all at once.
“Wow,” I manage to say.
I step closer and run my hand slowly from her collar down the front of her suit, fingertips tracing the smooth line as I soak her in.
Clara wraps her arms around my waist, drawing me closer, her thumbs brushing gently over the fabric of my jumper. Even through the fabric, her touch turns into flame, and a shiver runs down my spine.
I give a slight shake of my head, trying to clear the haze settling in my chest. “You look incredible.”
“So do you.” She leans in and gently presses a kiss to my lips. I smile into the kiss, letting it linger, not quite ready to let go.
When we finally part, I notice my red lipstick has smudged onto her lips. I reach up and softly start to rub it away.
“Leave it,” she murmurs. “I want it there.”
“You sure?”
She nods, eyes never leaving mine. The rest of the world drops out, and it’s just her, standing there with my lipstick on her mouth like it belongs there. I feel claimed, and I like it.
“Then I guess I’d better leave more,” I say, tilting my head slightly before pulling her in again, slower this time.
Above us, the sky glows pink and blue, just as Diana and Alex say “I do” under a soft storm of petals, and everyone cheers.
I lift my camera right as Alex leans in to kiss Diana. The setting sun catches Alex’s blond curls and turns them into spun copper. Diana’s veil flutters in the wind, and the two of them look like magic made flesh.
I press the shutter, and even before checking the screen, I know it’s the shot. The kind that ends up framed above fireplaces.
I lower the camera, letting myself breathe it all in, watching my sister beam with excitement.
I thought I’d miss out on so much photographing Diana’s wedding, but it’s been the exact opposite.
And I’m so thankful I did it, because I saw just about every excited and nervous look she and Alex shared.
I got to see all the love they pour into fleeting moments for just the two of them, something I would have missed had I been just another guest.
I feel a pair of eyes on me, and when I turn, it’s Clara’s. She’s standing under the arbor, champagne in one hand, the other tucked into her pants pocket, looking like a dream.
The second our eyes meet, she smiles, a slow, crooked smile. My heart stutters as she walks toward me.
“Hey,” she says, coming closer, her voice low enough that it settles into my spine. “You almost done?”
“Yeah,” I say, my fingers twitching on the shutter button.
“Good.” She hands me the champagne glass. I take it and let the bubbles fizzle down to my belly before giving her a quick peck.
“Can everyone please make their way to the reception area?” The DJ’s voice cuts through the soft hum of conversation.
We start moving, a slow, happy shuffle of bodies walking toward the Wisteria Hall, where the party will take place. A few moments later, the DJ’s voice rings out again, this time louder, more excited.
“Please welcome, for the first time as newlyweds . . . Diana and Alexandria Wheeler.”
I snap a few more pictures, making sure I get their entrance as a married couple. Diana and Alex are now both in matching white knee-length dresses, paired with matching tennis shoes.
We all cheer as they walk in hand in hand, some of the guests blowing bubbles toward them. Alex dips Diana, kissing more of her teeth than her lips as Diana smiles. I snap another picture before everyone surrounds them. Then I take a few more photos of them talking to guests and greeting everyone.
I could take the rest of the night off. My assistant is somewhere around here snapping more pictures, and all the big moments my sister wanted me to photograph are done; now it’s party time.
“Where’s your assistant?” Clara says from behind me.
I smile. It’s like she knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Around. I saw her a bit ago swapping her SD cards.” I scan the room for Nina.
“Are you taking a break?”
“Yeah, I’m done for the night.” I grab my camera bag and gently lower my camera and lenses into it.
Clara smiles. “Perfect!”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Perfect for what?”
Her grin widens as she takes my hand and pulls me toward the dance floor, the music shifting into a soft, swaying song.
“Perfect for this,” she says, spinning me in a circle.
I laugh, feeling the warmth of the champagne mixed with the smell of her cologne. Clara’s smile never fades as we move in sync, her touch light but firm, guiding me closer.
It’s effortless, this connection between us, and I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.