Page 35 of Orc'd At A Wedding
"Let them ask questions."
She smiles, reaching up to straighten my collar even though I'm not wearing a shirt.
"I like this version of you," she murmurs. "The one who doesn't care what anyone thinks."
"I've always been this version," I tell her honestly. "I just buried it under professional protocol. You make me want to stop hiding."
Her expression softens impossibly further, and she rises on her toes to kiss me gently.
We're still standing there, foreheads pressed together, when her phone buzzes loudly from where it fell on the floor.
She sighs and pulls away, retrieving it from beside the vanity. Then she goes completely still.
"Bliss?"
She stares at the screen, her expression unreadable.
"What is it?" I ask, crossing to her.
She turns the phone toward me wordlessly. The notification glows brightly against the dark screen:
Your booking with Olog ends in 12 hours.
Reality crashes back with brutal efficiency. Twelve hours. Half a day.
Then the contract expires, the payment processes, and we return to being strangers who happened to share a weekend.
I regard her face carefully, trying to read her reaction, but she's gone carefully blank in that way she does when she's protecting herself.
"Bliss—"
"We should get back," she whispers, her voice perfectly controlled. "They'll be lining up for the processional soon."
"We need to talk about this."
"About what? The app is just reminding me the booking is almost over. That's... that's what I paid for. A weekend. And the weekend is almost done."
"That's not what this is anymore."
"Isn't it?" She meets my gaze, and the vulnerability is back, raw and painful. "How do I know you're not just saying what I want to hear? How do I know this isn't part of the service?"
I grip her shoulders, forcing her to look at me.
"Because I just violated every single clause in my terms of service," I say flatly. "Because I locked us in a public restroom and fucked you against a sink instead of maintaining professional boundaries. Because I am falling for you so hard I can't think straight, and I haven't been able to think straight since you opened your hotel room door two days ago looking like you were about to face a firing squad."
Her breath catches.
"Olog—"
"Twelve hours," I continue. "Fine. We finish this wedding. We get through tomorrow. But the second that timer expires, I'm asking you out properly. No contract. No gig app. Just you and me figuring out if this insane chemistry translates to something real."
She searches my face for a long moment.
Then she nods.
"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."
I kiss her forehead, then step back and offer her my arm.
