My heart thundered inside its cage, like an animal trying to get out. Eventually, when Jensen and I were together, that feeling of butterflies every time I saw him went away. After seeing him every day, kissing him every day, waking up in his arms, the excitement of newlywed bliss faded. I didn’t love him any less, didn’t want him any less, but this feeling I feel right now? The one where I feel like my heart is literally in his fist? I had stopped feeling it, and I wasn’t sure I liked it being back.
“I … I’m sure you would have found out. I mean, I’m sure Patty would have told you,” I said, turning back around to face the bartender when he said my drink was ready.
“Patty, but not you,” Jensen said, moving closer to me, the heat from his body rolling through mine. When I felt his breath over my neck, I closed my eyes and pictured his breath over my bare breasts, teasing me the way he used to, and then over my stomach, and lower…
I stopped, opening my eyes once more. I got a funny look from the bartender and pushed off of the bar, colliding with Jensen’s hard chest.
“Sorry,” I said, turning around and taking a step back to give myself space from him, away from his air, even though I still craved it. “I honestly, I mean, we don’t talk Jensen.” I stopped talking and craned my head to look up at him. “So no, I didn’t have any intention of sending out a carrier pigeon or anything.”
His eyebrows rose. His lips twitched in amusement, and I fought the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine. His face darkened suddenly, and I was sure he could read my thoughts. I cleared my throat and took a sip of the screwdriver in my hand.
“Don’t write that in one of your stories,” I said, and held my breath as soon as the words left my mouth.
“You read my stories?” he asked, his voice low as he took a step forward. We were being quiet, off in a dark corner where the bar was located, but I felt every pair of eyes staring at us in that moment. I felt like we were screaming over the electric dance song that people were happily participating in. I took a step back.
“No,” I said. “But once a writer, always a writer, right?” I said lamely. My statement made him grin—that stupid, wolfish grin of his that made me cave to him to begin with. I’d convinced myself that I hated that grin, until this moment, when I saw it in front of me and not in one of my twisted fantasies, in which reality never kicked in.
“Did you ever read—” he started to ask when my brother interrupted.
“Meep, I have to head out. Are you coming or do you need a ride?” Rob asked, his eyes not leaving mine.
“Is everybody leaving? Where’s Elle?” I asked.
“They’re about to leave,” Rob said. “But Bean said they were just going to slip out, no big charade with bubbles or rice or whatever.”
“Well, technically we can’t do the rice thing. It wasn’t permitted in the last wedding I shot,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that only applies in Catholic churches,” Jensen said.
My eyes snapped to his, and suddenly all of the anger I thought had washed away came crawling back. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” I said, pulling Rob’s arm and stepping away.
“It was good to see you, man,” Rob said over his shoulder.
“Yeah, it was great,” I muttered under my breath, earning a laugh from Rob and a jaw twitch from Jensen.
“You seemed like you were actually getting along,” he said once we were out of earshot.
“Yeah, smoke and mirrors and all that jazz,” I replied, waving my hand.
“I take it Mom told him about the move.”
“She sure did,” I said with a sigh as we reached the front of the hotel, where Oliver and Estelle stood, talking, their arms wrapped around each other. “They have to be the most beautiful couple in the universe,” I commented. Rob nodded in agreement.
“That’s what love looks like,” he said.
“It is, isn’t it?” I said, smiling. I smiled brighter when Estelle’s happy eyes caught my gaze and she squealed, walking toward us with Oliver in tow.
“Thank you so much for everything,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me away from Rob. She backed away to hold me at arms’ length, her eyes searching my face as if she was cataloging it. I knew I was going to cry before I felt the tears pricking my eyes. They were leaving on their honeymoon to Italy tonight, and I was leaving for New York in a couple of days. This was our last day together, and I swear if it weren’t her wedding I would beg Oliver to let me be a third wheel tonight.