Chapter 19
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Istayed with Liana while Sullivan prepared to go back into the church. Although he hadn’t said anything, he looked relieved. I had a feeling he was glad to have something to channel his energy into after just watching us for the last few minutes.
“I’ll be right downstairs,” he said once he reached the door, rolling his shoulders like he was bracing for impact. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“I’ve got her,” I said. “Go.”
Liana sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “He’s going to terrify them, isn’t he?”
“Oh, one hundred percent,” I said. “But honestly? The people who came here for Neil deserve it and the people who came here for you might just be inspired to grab their own pitchforks.”
She laughed quietly, the sound still a little brittle, but I’d take that over nothing. “I hope none of his friends or family actually come. I don’t want to hear them defending him.”
“On the plus side, Neil will be finding out from them real soon what’s happening,” I said. “By the time we leave here, he’ll know, and if any of his people try to come, we’ll make them pay for their own booze.”
She smiled, but then we heard the low murmurs filtering up from downstairs. Sullivan’s strong voice carried the next second, but not enough for us to make out the words from all the way up here.
Liana froze. “What’s he saying?”
“Either something heroic or something legally questionable. Personally, I’m hoping for the latter. I’m hoping that Neil and his guests will feel so threatened about what he’s saying that they’ll crap themselves every time they just drive past a Crowne Medical billboard.”
A beat later, we heard the church doors opening and the sound hit us first, chatter that sounded like confusion, surprise, and then, this weird ripple of excitement. People talking over each other. Gasps.
Liana sagged against me. “He actually told them.”
“Of course, he did. Probably in a way that’s going to cause the maximum amount of chaos in Neil’s life for the next few weeks.”
Sullivan came back in a minute later, his jaw tight but eyes clear again now. Focused. “It’s done. They’ve all been invited to come drink my booze and eat my sister’s cake, as long as they’re willing to write off any grain of support for that motherfucker.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, but at least this time, she was smiling. “You’re the best brother.”
“I know. But only because you’re a great little sister.”
The hotel ballroom was already set up when we got there, people showing up in waves, still dressed for a wedding, but buzzing for a much rowdier party. I cornered the DJ before he could even think about pressing play.
“No love songs tonight,” I said.
He looked at me like I’d just saved his life. “Bless you.”
“Keep it upbeat,” I said. “Energetic. If anyone slow dances, I’ll unplug everything.”
He saluted me. “As long as it’s not the same twenty songs I play at every wedding reception, I’m onboard.”
“I don’t want to hear even one of those songs,” I said, then nodded when he grinned at me.
Liana appeared with a bottle of champagne in her hand, no flute and no shame when I ran into her on my way offstage.
“Is this tacky?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s iconic. You’re reclaiming your life from a cowardly, piece of shit loser who never deserved you. I’d say that deserves drinking straight out of the bottle.”
She took a long swig and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Fuck that guy.”
“That’s the spirit.”
The DJ shouted into his microphone as the first strands of Since You’ve Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson started playing. He announced that he’d be playing a selection of the most iconic, most powerful breakup songs of all time tonight, and Liana threw her free arm up in the air.
“I love this song!”
She dragged me onto the dance floor with her, her hair now loose and her dress swishing. People cheered when they joined us, but not those sad, pity cheers. These were real cheers, and it made me smile to see how much support this awesome girl would have over the next few months.
She’d need it. I knew that much for sure, but since tonight was about helping her cut loose and have fun, I kicked my shoes off under the nearest table and didn’t look back.
Sullivan hovered at the edge for a while, talking to relatives and accepting handshakes and claps on the back like he’d just pulled off a successful heist.
At some point, during Gives You Hell by the All American Rejects, he ended up next to me, watching Liana spin, jumping up and down. She was shouting along to the lyrics, occasionally pausing to take another sip of her champagne.
“She’s okay,” he said after a few moments, like he’d needed to say it out loud but had also needed time to convince himself it was true.
“She is.” I smiled up at him. “You did good today, Sullivan.”
He brought his gaze to mine. “You did better.”
I chuckled. “That’s high praise.”
He hesitated, then held his hand out. “Dance with me.”
“Really?”
“Really. Why not?”
I could think of at least half a dozen reasons, but I took his hand anyway and laughed when he spun me into him. Surprisingly, he wasn’t stiff or awkward like I’d expected. Instead, Sullivan Crowne turned out to be a pretty darn awesome dancer.
He moved easily, confident without trying. One hand was at my waist, respectful but still tighter than the way one friend might touch another. Not that we were friends.
He guided me a little further away from the group Liana was dancing in, then bent his head closer to my ear. “Thank you for what you did today. For helping her.”
I swallowed past the stab of lust I felt at the sensation of having his low, smooth voice so close to my ear. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do,” he said. “You really stepped up today, Bree. I’m not sure what we would’ve done without you.”
“You would’ve figured it out.” I truly believed that. “No one ever plans for these moments, but they always get through them.”
“I might owe you an apology.”
I laughed. “Might?”
“I misjudged you,” he said. “I thought you were reckless.”
“Wow.” I looked up into his eyes, feeling a smile curve on my lips. “How romantic.”
He laughed, his head shaking like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. “It turns out you’re just brave, and really good at your job.”
The compliment burrowed into a place inside me that felt dangerous. “Maybe I misjudged you too.”
“Oh?” His brow lifted.
“Yeah. It turns out you’re not just an asshole.”
He winced. “I never denied that part. What else am I?”
Before I could respond, Liana barreled into us and wrapped her arms around both our waists. “This is the best day ever.”
Sullivan leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “That’s the champagne talking.”
“It’s still true,” she said, then spun away again, taking the hand of an older woman and laughing when she twirled her to a victorious Taylor Swift anthem.
Sullivan pulled me closer again and I looped my arms around his neck, finding those piercing, intense blue eyes locked right on mine when I looked up. Somewhere around the third song, our dancing changed into something that wasn’t quite fit for public consumption anymore.
The music was loud, the lights were low, and the room buzzed with champagne-fueled rebellion, but then the beat shifted into one much slower and dirtier. His hand slid a little lower and mine curled tighter in his shirt. He’d lost his jacket and his tie ages ago.
Our bodies found each other without asking permission, our hips brushing against each other at first, then pressing, the space between us disappearing in inches at a time.
I didn’t even realize people were watching us until there was a short beat between two songs.
Then I laughed, the sound coming out breathless.
“We’re getting looks.”
“Good,” he murmured, his voice lower. “They should be jealous.”
And what I should’ve done was stepped back. Dancing with him like this was a terrible idea layered on top of what had been a disastrous day, but instead, I tilted my head up and caught the dark look in his eyes, focused and heated, like I was the only thing he could see.
My stomach flipped. Then his thigh slid between mine and it wasn’t subtle or accidental. It was very much deliberate, calculated to drive me insane. The music thumped through me, and suddenly, every nerve felt too close to the surface.
I was hyper-aware of his hands, the heat of him, and the way he dipped his head like he was about to say something in my ear, but then didn’t actually say anything at all.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” I said, swallowing hard as I felt the effect he was having on my body, and that wasn’t subtle either.
“Dancing?” he asked innocently but with a devilish curve to his mouth when he tightened his grip on my hips to drag me closer again.
I gasped when I felt it, the undeniable, unmistakable evidence of how turned on he was, pressed right where I couldn’t ignore it.
My breath caught, heat pooling between my legs.
In an act of momentary insanity, I ground against his thigh, my nipples hardening as the relief of the friction shot through me.
His jaw tightened. “We should stop.”
Neither of us did. Somehow, it escalated instead, going from swaying to grinding and from teasing to reckless.
My fingers slid under his collar at the nape of his neck, his mouth hovering at my ear, then moving to my jaw, and finally landing at the corner of my mouth, not quite kissing but close enough to make me ache for it.
“Bree,” he murmured, like it was a warning.
“Too late,” I said. “It’s too late for that now, Sullivan.”
He held my gaze for a beat, his eyes tightening at the corners like he was trying to decide what to do.
I stared up at him, my decision made, and the next thing I knew, his fingers were wrapped around my wrist and he was pulling me to the edge of the ballroom, past a row of service doors I hadn’t noticed before.
“Where are we—”