16. Addison
Addison
I’d spent most of the afternoon pretending to work.
I answered emails, reviewed a client contract, drafted responses I never sent, and stared at my inbox long enough for the words to blur together.
By six o’clock, I’d gotten through a respectable amount of work and spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about a woman I’d only been seeing for a few weeks.
I met the bridal party at an upscale wine bar tucked into a side street downtown.
“Addison!” Lilly called as she waved me over with an excited smile. “We ordered that flatbread you love, and they have the Spanish white you were obsessed with.”
“Perfect,” I replied while sliding into the booth beside her.
Natalie set her glass down with a soft clink and looked at me curiously. “So,” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “how’s Jason?”
The question landed harder than I expected, and my fingers tightened around the stem of my wineglass.
“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” I said, keeping my voice even.
A brief, pointed silence followed.
“What?” Caroline frowned. “But he was perfect for you.”
“Yeah,” Natalie added. “Stable, successful, wanted the same things. You two had a plan.”
I forced a small smile. “Sometimes perfect on paper isn’t enough.”
Lilly rested a hand on my knee. “Guys, he wasn’t it. That doesn’t mean Addie won’t find the right person. It just wasn’t Jason.”
Thank God for my best friend.
The relief was quickly followed by guilt. I still hadn’t told her about Sawyer. I didn’t know how she would react, and I wasn’t ready to risk something that still felt so new and good.
I took another sip of wine and let the warmth travel down my body.
Brooke cleared her throat and leaned forward slightly. “Well, there’s still time,” she said. “Maybe you’ll meet someone at the wedding. A guest. A groomsman. A bartender.”
“Maybe,” I replied politely.
About an hour later, after another round of wine and too much conversation about seating charts and centerpieces, Lilly pushed back from the table.
“We should go dancing,” she announced while already halfway out of her seat.
My first instinct was to refuse because I felt tired and emotionally wrung out in a way I hadn’t figured out how to explain yet.
“I don’t know,” I started. “I’m kind of—”
“Addison,” Natalie interrupted with a bright grin, “come on. It’s basically a bachelorette obligation.”
“You don’t get to be responsible tonight,” Caroline added.
I opened my mouth to argue again, but decided against it. “Okay fine, let’s go!”
The whole group squealed and I let myself relax.
* * *
The club was only a block away, tucked behind velvet ropes and a polished brass entrance. Inside, low lighting reflected off mirrored walls while the DJ worked through a loud nineties playlist. The bass hit the second we stepped onto the crowded dance floor.
A moment later, I was dancing without hesitation as Backstreet Boys turned into Usher and then Britney, the music carrying me along.
My body remembered how to move even though my brain had been stuck all evening. Natalie spun me around and I laughed. Lilly sang off-key beside me and I threw my head back. Caroline tried to drag us into a choreographed move none of us remembered correctly.
We did shots and I danced with my eyes closed and my arms lifted while laughter escaped me loud and unfiltered. Sweat warmed my skin and my hair stuck to the back of my neck while my dress twisted higher on my thighs and I didn’t bother fixing it.
For a while I stopped thinking about who I was supposed to be. Work disappeared. Plans disappeared. Even Sawyer faded into the background while the music filled the space in my chest.
“You’re having fun!” Lilly shouted over the music.
“I know!” I yelled back breathlessly.
The lights flashed while the beat pulsed through the room and my chest felt loose in a way that surprised me, like joy didn’t always have to be quiet to be real.
When the music slowed and everyone drifted toward the bar for water, I leaned against the wall while catching my breath. My cheeks were flushed and my heart still raced when I pulled my phone out of my clutch without thinking.
Me: I’m dancing. Against my will. And somehow loving it.
I slipped the phone back into my bag before I could second-guess the message. Maybe this world didn’t have to cancel the other one. Maybe I was allowed to have both.
By the time I got home, my feet hurt and my balance had that familiar floaty wobble that came from too many shots. I kicked my heels off by the door and one of them slid halfway across the rug while I collapsed onto the couch with a satisfied sigh.
I reached for my phone and opened our thread while my thumb hovered for a second before I typed.
Me: Thinking about your hands again.
The reply came almost immediately.
Sawyer: Someone’s been drinking.
I smiled as warmth curled low in my stomach.
Me: Maybe.
Me: But I really need your mouth on me. Your hands. All of it.
Me: I want you to fuck me, Sawyer.
I hit send before I could soften the words.
Three dots appeared.
Sawyer: Jesus.
Sawyer: I was going to say sweet dreams but now I’m sweating.
Sawyer: You sure you don’t want me to come over?
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes while my body hummed with equal parts alcohol and anticipation.
Me: You’re dangerous.
Sawyer: I’m literally sitting still.
Sawyer: You’re the one sexting like a menace.
A low laugh slipped out of me.
Me: Maybe I like you flustered.
Me: I want a sleepover again soon.
This pause lasted longer and doubt flickered briefly through my chest before the next message appeared.
Sawyer: Deal.
Sawyer: But next time we’re not sleeping on the couch.
Sawyer: I want you under me.
My breath caught as heat pooled low and steady.
Me: Good.
Me: Because I want to be under you.
Another pause followed.
Sawyer: Go to sleep.
Sawyer: Before I break traffic laws to get to you.
Sawyer: And Addie?
My pulse skipped.
Me: Yeah?
Sawyer: You’re so fucking sexy when you’re honest.
Sawyer: Can’t wait to make you come apart.
I stared at the screen while my heart pounded and my skin felt overly sensitive, the feeling of being wanted and seen settling deeper than the alcohol ever could. I set the phone beside me but reread the last message twice before locking the screen.
My hand rested lightly on my stomach over the soft fabric of my dress. I didn’t move it any further because I didn’t need to.
You’re so fucking sexy when you’re honest.
I smiled to myself, flushed and wrecked in the best possible way, knowing I had no idea where any of this was going and wanting it anyway, messy and complicated and real.
* * *