Chapter 22
It’s been four hours, and I can barely remember much of this wedding.
Since we started our arrangement, I haven’t really had an opportunity to touch Maevyn, to study her the way I felt drawn to.
Now that the time has come, it’s like I can’t keep my hands off her.
My thumb runs back and forth over the soft skin of her shoulder, right over that tattoo I love to look at.
She took my damn breath away when she stepped out of the bathroom earlier.
Her dark hair was styled in effortless waves that sat just past her shoulders.
Her big brown eyes looked even more hypnotising, lined in black and dusted with a shimmering bronze shadow.
Her plump lips were painted in a cool toffee colour, looking good enough to devour.
Then I saw her in that dress. A muted green satin with burnt orange flowers all over it.
The tiniest little straps sat over her shoulders, and a bow was tied between her breasts, making them perk up in a way that was far too enticing.
A little cut-out exposed the skin above her belly button, showing off her toned stomach, a line dipping right down the centre, begging for my tongue.
The dress cinched in at her waist and highlighted her full hips. I’ve never seen anyone more stunning.
“Maevyn, how old is your daughter?” one of the wives at our table asks.
“She’s twelve.” Maevyn smiles.
“Gosh, you don’t look old enough to have a twelve-year-old! You must tell me your secrets.”
“I was quite young when I became a mum.” Maevyn laughs it off, but I can hear underneath the words how many times she’s had to say them.
I squeeze her shoulder. “Aurora earned a scholarship to Heart City Secondary College through the drama program, and she’s in the Applied English program.”
“How wonderful. Does she know what she wants to do after school?”
“She’s a very creative child, and ambitious, but currently, she has an interest in screenwriting,” Maevyn says.
“She’s a good kid,” Phil says from beside me. “Came to a self-defence class with me and West the other week.” I offer my friend a grateful look.
“So you two get on well then? Twelve must be a hard age for a kid to accept a new parental figure,” Hayden, one of the other guys at the table, asks.
“Actually,” Maevyn says. “Aurora’s never known her birth father. It’s always been the two of us, but she loves West.”
She turns her head, giving me a shy smile that I reciprocate. I wonder if she means that. Aurora’s such an amazing young girl. Any time I get to spend with both of them, my heart feels so fucking content. It’s hard to remember what my days were like without them.
“Okay, folks, it’s time for the first dance,” the DJ says into the microphone. “Please turn your attention to the dancefloor and welcome Mr and Mrs Ledger.”
Everyone claps and whistles as the floodlights dim, leaving only string lights glowing, stretched between the trees bordering each side of the high-gloss floor that’s been dropped in the middle of the field. Crew and Vera step into the middle, winding their arms around each other.
“Oh, I love this song,” Rachel says, leaning into her husband.
I wrap my arm around Maevyn’s chest, drawing her back into me. Her perfume surrounds me, and I have zero shame as I bury my nose into her hair and inhale. Chocolate. Mandarin. Maevyn.
She sways slightly in my arms as we watch the bride and groom, and I find myself dropping a kiss in her hair, telling myself it’s all part of the show, even though no one would be watching us right now.
When the song fades, turning into something more upbeat, guests are invited to join on the dancefloor.
Rachel stands up, pulling on Phil’s arm. “Come on, husband. Give me a spin.”
Phil looks at his wife as if he actually has to be talked into it, but the man would do anything for her. They leave the table, and I’m all too eager to accept my opportunity to follow them.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask.
“Sure.” Maevyn holds her palm out to me. “Show me what you got.”
I stand up, happily taking her hand in mine, and ease her out of her seat to lead us to the dancefloor, right beside where Phil twirls Rachel with a grin on his face.
With Maevyn’s hand still in mine, I pull, spinning her in until she’s flush against my body. My other hand comes to her hip, gliding along the fabric until it sits on the small of her back, and we start to sway.
Her eyes dart around us, taking in the other couples, or maybe checking who has eyes on us, but I still can’t look away.
Her hand comes back to my chest before it slides up, resting gently behind my neck, and she leans further into my body.
We continue to dance as the lyrics describe being crazy for someone in a brand new way.
An undeniable way, but one that’s felt with every stare.
Every touch. With every breath. Falling deeper and begging the other person to see it, to believe it.
My fingertips run over her dress, dipping low over the thin, smooth fabric. God, it’s as if I’m touching her bare skin. Wait a minute…
“Maevyn?” She hums, but doesn’t move her head from where it now rests against my chest. “Are you wearing underwear?” I whisper.
“I told you I don’t.” Holy. Fuck.
My fingers tighten against her as my jaw clenches in a fight not to picture it. It’s bad enough I’m going to have to sleep next to the woman later. Jesus, what does she wear to bed?
“Ironically, the only time I do wear underwear is when I’m performing at the club.” She laughs, and I try to join her, but it just comes out as a stuttering, garbled mess.
“I think I need a drink,” I grumble.
When she looks up at me, her brown eyes sparkle with amusement. “Aww, do you need something to take the edge off? Is baby a little hard up?” The sassy pout she gives me is exactly what forces me to haul her against me, letting her feel just how much her teasing affects me.
“What do you think?”
She gasps, and I can feel her heart beating rapidly against my chest. Thank fuck, it’s not just me who’s affected.
“Maybe a drink’s a good idea.” She swallows down a flustered breath. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom while you get the drinks,” she mutters in a daze, then takes two steps back, eyes fixed on me before she seems to shake off her thoughts and rushes off the dancefloor.
I palm my chest as I make my way over to the makeshift bar, leaning an arm against the counter as I wait to be served.
“Having a good night?”
My eyes close for a beat before I slowly turn to see Phoebe standing beside me.
“Hey.” I give her a casual smile. “Yeah, it’s been fun. And you?”
She clasps her hands in front of her, rustling the skirt of her pale pink dress. “It’s been great catching up with everyone.”
I nod, drumming my fingers over the bar.
“I was hoping to catch you tonight,” she says. Oh no. No. No. Please don’t be what I think it is. “Could we talk?”
I huff out a laugh, anxiously searching the crowd for Maevyn. “We are talking.”
“Somewhere a little more private?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Phoebe, I think we’re past the point of needing to talk in private. We’ve moved on.”
“Please.” I look past her, still looking for Maevyn, but I can’t see her. There’s a small rose garden a short distance from the festivities, but still in plain sight. That seems like the safest place.
With a resigned sigh, I point to a rickety wooden bench along the roses that faces a little pond with tealights floating on the surface.
My head keeps turning in the direction of the bathrooms, hoping to spot Maevyn as she comes out so she can save me.
Phoebe takes a seat on one end of the bench, and I make a point of sitting on the other side, as far away as I can get without being rude.
“I just wanted you to hear it from me, since we still have a lot of mutual friends… I’m starting the process of donor insemination.” My gaze flicks between her face and stomach, and she chuckles. “I’m not pregnant now. But I want to be a mum, and I haven’t met anyone else I’ve wanted that with.”
I don’t miss the way her voice hitches on anyone else.
I run a palm down my face, then clamp my hands together, letting them dangle between my thighs before I look at her again. “I’m really happy you’re going after what you want.”
The smile she gives me is small. “Yeah.”
Phoebe leans back against the bench, looking up at the stars, the ones that are so much brighter and fuller now that we’re out of the city. Millions of them are flickering away, and I bet Maevyn is kicking herself for not having a telescope on hand.
“Did I make a mistake?” The whispered plea shatters the peace, tightening in my chest. “Joey’s sitting at your table. She was telling me all about Maevyn. She seems lovely. And… she has a daughter?”
I nod. “Yep, Aurora. She’s twelve.”
“I don’t understand how that’s different from what I was asking for, West.” There’s a wobble in her voice, and I know tears will follow. I hate being the source of someone’s pain, of their disappointment.
I rest my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands as I try to find the words. “We weren’t right for each other, Phoebe. It wasn’t just about kids, and you know that. So much about blending our lives wasn’t fitting.”
“I can change,” she begs softly, and I shake my head.
“No. Don’t change for someone else.”
“You did!”
I turn to her, finding she’s moved closer along the bench, erasing the distance. Her eyes glisten with tears, threatening to spill over.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t want kids.”
“I never said I didn’t want them. I wanted to adopt or foster if I was going to have them.”
“Which category does your girlfriend’s child fit into?”
“I understand you’re hurt, but this is not the same thing.” I stand up, done with the conversation. “It doesn’t change anything between us.”
Frustration simmers on the surface, my limbs heavy as the past seeps in to taint the present. A hand catches on my wrist, and I turn in surprise. Phoebe’s stepping into me, trying to get close, but all I can see is Maevyn watching us in the distance.
I back up from my ex, snatching my hand back as I shake my head at Maevyn. The only person whose feelings I care about right now. The expression on her face almost looks wounded, but I see the moment it’s replaced with fire. She stands up taller, storming over to me with determination.
“Mae, it’s—” The excuse dies on my lips when she grabs the lapels of my jacket and yanks me down, smashing her mouth to mine.
I give it one stunned second to sink in before my hands find her hips and pull her into me, aligning my body with hers. The feel of her under my hands is out of this world.
One hand is still fisting my clothes, as if she’s holding me in place, unwilling to let me go, while the other runs up the back of my neck. My arm circles her lower back, hauling her closer as I bite her lower lip.
She chases my mouth, biting me back, and I cup her jaw, my thumb running over the smooth skin of her cheek. All these weeks of dancing around our rampant chemistry. Teasing. Flirting. Blatant want, hidden behind a ruse that’s finally manifested itself into something that feels undeniably real.
Slowly, she pulls away and looks over her shoulder. That’s when I realise Phoebe’s no longer standing there.
“Felt like the kind of situation a real girlfriend might stake her claim,” she says breathlessly.
“I fully support that theory.”
“Really? It wasn’t too hard to fake that enthusiasm?” She bites her lip, full of brazen attitude. I fucking love it.
“It was a little tricky, but I think I managed it,” I say, running my hand down her back to squeeze her arse. “Maybe I need some more practise so it looks more natural next time.”
“Who says you get a next time?”
I look to the side where couples still dance, getting more lively as the music turns playful. “The night’s not over yet. And according to them,” I tip my head to the crowd, “you’re my girlfriend. I could kiss you all night long if I wanted to, just to prove a point.”
She slowly steps back, eyes alight with challenge. “What point are you looking to prove, Thief?”
My footsteps follow hers like a magnet as she continues to edge closer to the dancefloor. “That you want me to kiss you.”
“Have fun getting me to admit it.” She smiles as she slips into the crowd. Dipping between couples, she dances to the beat, her gaze never losing mine.
My heart beats wildly, burning with the need to make her admit that she wants it as much as I do.
It makes me wonder if I hadn’t seen Phoebe on the street and forced us to fake it, would the last few weeks have still happened? Would everything I feel now be real?
Isn’t it already?