*I’m falling for you. *
The words hit me, cracking the careful armor I had built around my heart. *He deserves someone who is 100% sure. *
Jessica’s voice was a ghost, mocking me. I wasn’t sure. I was fractured, torn in two, and this man, this impossible, forbidden man, was holding one half of me in his hands.
And in that moment, I didn’t care about the consequences.
I didn’t care about Chloe’s perfect wedding or Marcus’s kind, complicated heart or my own carefully constructed career.
All I cared about was the truth I saw in Rhys’s eyes, a truth that mirrored the terrifying, exhilarating feeling that had taken root in my own soul.
Overwhelmed, undone, I surged forward.
It wasn’t a choice; it was a surrender.
My hands came up to fist in the front of his jacket, pulling him down to me as I crashed my lips against his. The kiss wasn’t soft or tentative. It was a desperate, hungry collision. It was all the pent-up frustration, all the stolen glances, all the unspoken words pouring out of me at once. It was a cry for help and a declaration of war.
He responded instantly, his mouth claiming mine with a ferocity that stole my breath. One of his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back, while the other slid around my waist, yanking me flush against the hard lines of his body.
I could feel the thud of his heart against my chest, or maybe it was mine. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
We were lost. Lost in the dim hallway, lost in the heat and the desperation, lost in a moment that was both a beautiful beginning and a catastrophic end. The muffled sounds of the party faded into nothingness. There was only this. Only us.
A soft gasp from the end of the hall cut through the haze.
It was barely audible, but it was as loud as a gunshot.
My eyes flew open. Over Rhys’s shoulder, framed in the doorway that led back to the bar, stood two figures. The strobing lights from within cast them in silhouette, but I knew them instantly.
Jessica. And Lauren, another one of Chloe’s bridesmaids.
Time froze. Rhys must have felt me stiffen, because his lips stilled against mine. He pulled back slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t have to ask. The answer was in my wide, horrified eyes. He followed my gaze.
Jessica’s hand was pressed to her mouth, her expression a devastating mix of shock and profound disappointment. Lauren just stared, her jaw slack, her eyes wide as saucers, taking in the scene—me, the wedding planner, locked in a passionate, illicit embrace with the bride’s brother and best man, less than a week before the wedding.
No one moved. No one spoke.
The only sound was the incessant, mocking beat of the music from the party, a soundtrack to the exact moment my entire world came crashing down.