Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zoe
As the evening wears on, as the laughter grows louder and the drinks flow more freely, I feel a darkness inside me grow, expanding and contracting like a living thing—Until finally, I can’t take it anymore “Just enjoy the view,” I mumble to myself.
I breathe in the salty air, letting it fill my lungs and calm my racing thoughts. Leaning against the balcony railing, I feel the cool stone beneath my fingertips. Inside, laughter and clinking glasses filter out from the rehearsal dinner. But I needed to escape, just for a moment.
Footsteps approach, and I tense, not ready to face anyone. It’s Max who appears beside me, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed. The same Max who made it clear earlier, without saying much at all, that I don’t belong at his sister’s wedding. That I’m an outsider.
“Some night,” he says, his tone unreadable as he takes in the star-strewn sky.
I nod, unsure how to respond. Should I take a jab now or wait until he tries to insult me before I claw him out with my words?
“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful,” I say, choosing to keep the conversation harmonious. I don’t have the energy to respond to his taunting words. It’s just weird and now that we’re in such a beautiful place it’s even worse.
As we stand in silence, I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind. The tension between us is palpable, yet there’s something else too—an undercurrent I can’t quite define.
“Peaceful.” He hums in agreement, the sound vibrating through me. Questions burn on my tongue—why is he out here? He should be inside, hanging out with his family and friends, reminiscing about their past and how they’ve been friends for years.
I can’t help but feel a pang of envy. I wish I had friendships that old, that deep. The kind that Max and his friends share. It’s not like I’m alone in the world, but most of my childhood friends live across the country, and we only communicate through social media with emojis. The people at work . . . Well, we’re just colleagues, nothing else. Everyone is too busy trying to make it to the next level in our careers to start a friendship.
There’s, of course, Audrey, but she lives in San Diego. Even though we text daily, and she visits Boston often, I don’t know if we’ll ever forge a deeper friendship.
Max shifts beside me, reminding me he’s still there. We stand in charged silence, the crashing waves and distant revelry a strange soundtrack to the energy crackling between us. I sneak a glance at Max’s chiseled profile, his eyes reflecting pinpricks of starlight. He’s magnetic in a way I can’t quite define.
He catches me looking and quirks an eyebrow. “What?” he asks dryly.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, heat rising in my cheeks. “Just . . . surprised you came out here.”
“I’m full of surprises.” His lip twitches, hinting at a smirk.
Despite myself, curiosity gets the better of me. “Why did you come out here?”
The question hangs between us, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for his answer. This could be the moment that changes everything—or nothing at all.
He’s quiet for a long moment, considering. When he meets my gaze, there’s an intensity that steals my breath. “Maybe because I don’t care about the fucking rules and I want to break them all—or just because I fucking miss you.”
Max steps closer. “I know what I said earlier, about you not belonging. I was wrong, and I hope you know it.”
I tilt my chin up defiantly, even as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Oh? What changed your mind?”
“I could say that it’s because my sister genuinely likes you,” he says, moving even closer. I can feel his breath on my skin, and the space between us shrinks to nothing. I want to kiss him, but I’m trying to stay strong.
I swallow hard, hyperaware of every inch of space between us. “We have rules.”
“Fuck the rules, Zoe,” he says, determined. “I. Fucking. Missed. You.”
And I missed him too, and that’s probably the worst kind of rule breaking. What am I supposed to do now with everything that’s happening inside me? I’m speechless.
He leans in, his lips just inches from mine. “Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he whispers, his breath warm and tantalizing. “But if you feel even a fraction of what I’m feeling, let’s forget the rules for tonight.”
My heart stops and so does my breathing and I take a step back, afraid someone will see us.
“You know what you need?” Max asks.
“Tequila?” I ask, thinking maybe that will make me feel less lonely in this sea of couples and love.
He chuckles. “You have to stop overthinking everything, babe. I know exactly what you need. ”
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. “What are you suggesting?”
He smiles, a slow, seductive curve of his lips. “Just that maybe you should let go and enjoy the moment.”
I feel my nerves tingling, a mix of excitement and fear. “And how do you propose I do that?”
His hand brushes my arm, sending a warm thrill through me. “We could start with a dance,” he murmurs, leaning in closer.
The tension between us shifts, charged with something new and thrilling. I find myself caught between the desire to give in and the fear of complicating things further. But as I look into Max’s eyes, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, it might be worth the risk.
“A dance?”
He nods, his eyes locked on mine. “Or maybe something more.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I close the distance between us, our lips meeting in a kiss that is both tentative and electric. His hand moves to the small of my back, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. My heart races as I lose myself in the moment, forgetting all the reasons why this might be a bad idea.
As the kiss ends, we pull back slightly, our foreheads touching. The world around us fades, and for a brief, perfect moment, it’s just the two of us.
“I think I’m starting to get the hang of this ‘living a little’ thing,” I whisper, my voice shaky but filled with a newfound confidence.
Max’s hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. “Good. Because this is just the beginning.”
His mouth is on mine, hungry and insistent, and every coherent thought flees my mind. I’m lost in the heat of him, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the press of his body against mine.
Nothing else matters but this moment, this connection. As Max backs me against the balcony railing, his hands skimming my waist, I surrender to the inevitable. Tonight, I’m exactly where I belong.
Max’s lips trail down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I tilt my head back, giving him better access, my fingers tangling in his hair. Every touch, every kiss, sets my nerve endings ablaze, desire coiling tight in my belly.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I manage, even as I arch into him. “Your sister’s wedding . . .”
“This is about us, not my sister or whatever is happening around us.” Max’s voice is rough, his hands sliding under the hem of my dress.
He has a point. Tonight, I’m just Zoe—a woman aching to be touched, to be wanted. And Max seems determined to satisfy that ache.
His fingers skim higher, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I bite back a moan, my hips rocking instinctively against his.
“Tell me to stop,” Max murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
But I can’t. Because I do want it—want him—with an intensity that frightens me.
Instead of answering, I capture his mouth in another searing kiss, pouring all my longing, all my need, into the contact. Max groans, his grip on me tightening, and I know he’s just as lost as I am.
With a shared urgency, we break the kiss and head toward my cabana. The path is a blur of shadows and moonlight, our hands and lips exploring whenever we pause for breath. By the time we reach the door, my pulse is racing, my mind a whirl of anticipation.