Before I can, Fitz wanders back in from the deck of the boathouse, Dean by his side. My teammate catches my eye, a knowing glint in his eyes as he glances from me to Teagan and mouths, Go for it.
I mouth back, I can’t hear you, just to fuck with him.
I turn back to the redhead who is under my skin and in my head. She’s tapping her toe, pursing her lips. “I know you guys were just exchanging words about me,” she says, but she’s laughing, and I love that about her.
She gets me.
She understands how I am with my friends. She doesn’t judge me for how I like to have fun with the guys.
She doesn’t want to change me.
She’s cool with who I am.
Yes, the bitter kernel I’ve nurtured, I’ve watered, I’ve held on to—it’s all gone. And I’m so damn glad.
I lift my hand, set it on her shoulder, then slide it down her arm. “Actually, here’s my answer to the is-it-better-than-a-milkshake question. There’s only one thing that’ll make this wedding better than a chocolate milkshake,” I say, my voice a little low, a little rough, emotions seeping into it that I didn’t entirely expect.
But ones I don’t want to stop.
She shivers, her gaze drifting to my hand on her arm. Her eyes swing back up to mine. “And what’s that?”
I lean in close and whisper in her ear, “If you’ll dance with me.”
Perhaps this was always inevitable tonight.
It feels like it can’t be any other way as she brushes her lips against my neck, up to my ear, softly, sweetly, saying, “Yes. That would make it the best.”
“Pillowtalk” plays by Zayn, and I’m not a fifth wheel.
I don’t give a fuck what anyone else is doing as I take Teagan’s hand and guide her to the dance floor.
Her body glides against mine. We fit together like we don’t have to think about where hands go, where arms go.
Because everything feels natural with her. Everything feels real and true.
My arms loop around her waist. Hers rope around my neck. The lights twinkle, the music pulses, and our bodies sway.
We’re on the edge of the hardwood floor, moving in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. My hand travels up the small of her back. Somehow she snuggles closer. “That feels nice,” she murmurs.
“Nice? Just nice?” I tease.
“Nice isn’t good enough for you?” she taunts in a flirty whisper.
“Nice isn’t how I’m feeling right now,” I say as I bend my face into the crook of her neck, whispering those words in her ear.
“Mmm.” She tugs me closer, her hands tightening around my neck. “How are you feeling, Ransom?”
I press against her, the evidence hard and clear as my pelvis aligns with her body. “How do you think I feel?”
Her breath hitches. “I could guess, but maybe spell it out.”
I laugh lightly, pull back to meet her gaze, then break our hold for a few seconds to spell it out with my hands.
“What did you say?” she asks, as I circle my hands back around her.
“Something dirty,” I murmur.
“I figured out that much,” she says, her fingers tangling in the back of my hair in a way that drives me crazy.
“I love that,” I whisper.
“When I touch your hair?”
I nod against her. “Yeah, it turns me all the way on.”
“That is very good to know, since I kind of love having my hands in your hair. It’s so soft and lush, and it gets me excited,” she says as she runs her hands through my hair again.
My breath catches from her soft, nimble touch. “Now I’m getting more aroused,” I say roughly.
“I can tell, and I like it.”
“I think it’s chocolate milkshake time.”
Her lips dust across my neck, journeying to my jaw. She leaves kisses there, and it feels like she’s marking me with gentle but still possessive kisses. “Are you sure you want to get a milkshake?”
I slide my lips along her neck, traveling to her ear. “I feel like we could skip it. You?”
She nods quickly, purposefully. “Yes.”
We barely bother to say goodbye to our friends.
I’m confident they won’t care.
Actually, that’s not true.
I’m confident this is what they want.
And it’s what I want now too.
Without reservations, without rules.
16
Teagan
I take one last look behind me—a parting glance at the beautiful tableau.
This is what I never want to lose.
The friendships. The moments. The way these people have all become my family.
My found family. The one I desperately needed.
But seeing all of them, tangled up in each other, makes everything so clear.
There are no guarantees for any of us.
We walk down aisles.
We pledge to love each other.
We promise forever.
We hope we get all the years.
I’m not ready for those kinds of promises, but I’m ready to live again.
To feel again.
To knock down my walls and let the light in.
I don’t want to lose what’s in front of me, but as I take a mental snapshot, I’m keenly aware that all these men and women took a risk to be where they are.
