Chapter 4
Juliet
“So, then the serial killer pierced my nipples with a rusty needle and some old fishing twine before slitting my throat,” Quinn says in a cheerful voice, arching her brows like she’s waiting for me to say something.
“Mmhmm, that’s amazing, Quinnie,” I say, trying to match her enthusiasm as I lean towards the mirror to fix my lipstick.
Only it smears over my cheek when my best friend screeches my name and shoves my shoulder.
“Seriously?” she scolds. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said for the last ten minutes, have you?”
I grimace. It’s closer to fifteen or twenty.
“You’re the worst maid of honour on the planet.” Her words don’t have any malice in them, but my stomach drops because she’s right.
“I’m sorry,” I say, accepting the tissue she hands me so I can fix the mess on my face. “My head is just…”
“Back in Euphoria?” she finishes for me, a smirk playing on her lips.
“No!” But my protest is way too loud and obvious.
Her grin widens.
“You’re still thinking about him? It’s been two weeks.”
“No,” I say again, but this time it comes out more like a tortured groan. “Maybe. God, I don’t know why I can’t get that kiss out of my mind, but it was…”
“Amazing? Incredible? Mind-blowing?” she suggests when I trail off.
“Life changing.” I bury my head in my hands. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, it was just a kiss with a random stranger.”
“A sexy, masked stranger,” she supplies, and I fix her with a glare.
“Not helping.”
She holds up her hands, laughing. “Jules, it’s okay to be attracted to someone. It won’t kill you to move on.”
The churning in my stomach and the tightening in my chest says otherwise.
A random, reckless kiss with a masked stranger that I’ll never see again is a hell of a lot different from entering a relationship with someone.
I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to put myself or Tinsley in that situation again.
“Ooh,” she goes on when I don’t say anything. “I could set you up with one of Rory’s brothers. Tinsley is sleeping over at Everett’s, and you’re smoking hot in that dress. Maybe one day we could actually be related.”
“No chance, Quinnie,” I say, fixing a smile on my face as I grab her hands and squeeze them. “Now, it’s your wedding day. Let’s shelve this topic and focus on how you’re the most stunning bride I’ve ever laid eyes on. Rory is the luckiest man on the planet.”
Her expression softens. “He sure is.”
I lean in and kiss her cheek. “I’m so happy for you. He’s one of the good ones.”
As if our words summoned him, her husband appears in the doorway of the bridal suite, looking mouthwatering in his black suit.
“Ready for speeches, babe?” he asks.
She glances at me, and I nod, giving her a reassuring smile. I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. Fine, fine, fine.
If I keep repeating it, it’s bound to become the truth, isn’t it?
If I keep telling myself, I’m not lonely.
If I keep telling myself, I’m good with focusing on my daughter and making sure she’s happy and safe. She’s my number one priority now, and she always will be.
At least until she’s twenty-five and wants to move out and leave me.
Fighting the urge to call Everett to check on Tinsley following her anaphylaxis scare last week, I remind myself that she’s safe with her brother and follow my best friend and her husband out to the reception, going through the motions for the rest of the night.
Speeches, cutting of the cake, the bridal waltz, and the father-daughter dance—I somehow hold it together for that one.
Okay, maybe I shed a few tears, but that’s normal at weddings.
I try not to remember my wedding day and my overwhelming grief when that tradition was skipped because I didn’t have a father or even a father-figure to dance with.
Edward walked me down the aisle, and at the time I’d thought it sweet that he was supporting me through one of the toughest parts of the day.
In hindsight, I see it as a way of making sure I went through with the wedding.
Swallowing my bitterness towards my ex-husband, I laugh and dance with my friends and try to enjoy myself. It’s working, too. Until I need a bathroom break.
I turn to make my way across the crowded dancefloor, and bump into the hard body of one of Quinn’s new brothers-in-law.
“Whoa there,” he says with a laugh, putting his hands on my waist to steady me.
My body doesn’t react to his hands on me the same way it did two weeks ago with the masked stranger, although my traitorous mind sends me straight back there. I step out of Adrian’s grasp, mutter an indistinguishable apology, and rush off the dancefloor, my cheeks blazing.
By the time I reach the bathroom in the bridal suite, I’m breathing heavily, and my heart is racing.
How can one kiss with a mysterious masked man have such a hold over my emotions like this?
Why can’t I stop thinking about how his touch burned my skin, yet made me feel safe at the same time?
When will it stop? I can’t keep torturing myself like this.
He’s a fantasy, and that’s all he’ll ever be.
I don’t get to have a masked knight sweep me off my feet. I don’t want that.
Tinsley and I are only just finding our feet after what I survived, and I don’t need a man coming in and blowing everything up.
What I need is to forget that kiss ever happened and focus on building my new life. One that revolves around me and Tinsley moving on from our past and forging a happy future. No men allowed.
No matter how lonely I am.
Stop it, I mentally chastise myself. You have Tinsley. She’s more than enough.
I quickly pee, wash up, and head back to the dancefloor just as the MC orders all the single ladies to gather for the bouquet toss. I’m contemplating rushing back to the bridal suite to hide when Ally spots me and drags me into the middle of the fray, despite me trying to dig in my heels.
All around me, the ladies elbow one another, jostling for prime position, while I shrink in on myself. They’re welcome to catch the bouquet. I don’t want it.
Despite not wanting the flowers, and determined to let another woman catch them, when Quinnie tosses the bouquet over her shoulder, my hands instinctively lift and close over the bouquet that falls into them.
Ally and our other friends squeal with joy, and the massive smirk on the bride’s face makes my stomach churn.
No doubt they’ll take this as a sign to set me up with every eligible bachelor they know.
Sure enough, when Adrian catches the garter, Quinnie jumps on the mic and announces that the two of us will dance with each other.
Kill. Me. Now.
Knowing I can’t get out of this without looking like a total bitch, I paste a smile on my face and allow Adrian to wrap an arm around my waist, while the other takes my hand, and the DJ plays Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.
Quinn winks at me, and I really want to send her a death glare, but there are too many eyes on me right now.
“Seems like the universe keeps throwing us together, huh?” Adrian murmurs, his breath warm against my ear as we stand in one spot and sway back and forth to the music.
No one else is dancing. They’ve formed a giant circle around us, and I’m officially going to murder my best friend on her wedding night for putting me in the spotlight.
“Uh… Yeah, I guess it does feel like that,” I say dumbly, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat.
He seems like a nice guy, but I’m barely containing my panic attack with all these people staring at me, and flashbacks of my wedding threatening to overwhelm me.
“This is probably a little presumptuous of me, but I’m flying back to Melbourne tomorrow, so I thought I’d shoot my shot. Would you be interested in coming back to my hotel with me tonight?”
I trip over my feet, but he catches me, pulling me closer. Close enough to feel the unmistakable bulge in his pants.
“Uh, I have to pick up my daughter,” I stutter. Lies. “Sorry.”
He clears his throat and steps back, putting some space between us, but thankfully he’s not a complete arsehole to ditch me on the dancefloor in the middle of the song with so many eyes on us.
“Right, sorry. I didn’t know.”
There’s the blow that wakes me up from my fantasy with my masked stranger.
He doesn’t know I’m a single mum either.
Men may be interested in pursuing something with me, but will they ever be interested in raising another man’s daughter as his own?
I don’t want to find out. Tinsley doesn’t need men coming in and out of her life.
That’s why it’ll only ever be me and her.
“It’s fine.”
We awkwardly sway back and forth until the song finishes and transitions into Walk the Moon’s Shut Up and Dance.
“Thanks for the dance,” Adrian says, squeezing my hip before melting into the crowd.
Quinn, Ally, and Sophia appear by my side, the bride wiggling her brows at me. I give her a subtle shake of my head and ignore her disappointment, gripping my friends’ hands and dancing the rest of the night away.
Ally and her husband give me a lift home later that night, and I ignore the pang of loneliness that hits when I let myself into the quiet house. I’m half tempted to call Everett and ask him to bring Tinsley home, but it’s past midnight and I know she’ll be sound asleep.
Instead, I shower and climb into bed alone, tossing and turning before I finally drift into a restless sleep.