The officiant appears to be dressed as Wayne Newton, hair and all, swaying gently like he’s permanently stuck in performance mode.
And Nathan?
Nathan looks hot, of course he does.Ugh.But he also looks ridiculously pleased with himself.
Smug, confident bastard.
And when his gaze lands on me?
HOLY.
SHIT.
His blue eyes rake over me like he’s remembering every inch of my body from years ago and mentally undressing every inch of it now.
I swear he’s thinking dirty thoughts.
About me.
ME.
Adrianna Bosco, bakery owner, flour-covered regular human woman with more curves than I had when he knew me.
Those also include some new stretch marks, dimpled thighs, laugh lines, stress lines, and an ass that is a whole different entity than it was at eighteen.
The fact that he looks at me like he wants to ruin me against a velvet wall?
I am fucking speechless.
Could it be that Mr.Rockstar is actually thinking about me like that?
After all these years?
After all the miles between us?
After all the mistakes?
After I grew into my body and out of that girl he once knew?
My brain short-circuits.
My heart free-falls.
And for one terrifying, electrifying moment—I forget why we’re even here.
Because Nathan Thorn—international sex symbol, music legend, heartbreak connoisseur—is looking atmelike I’m the only thing in this chapel worth worshipping.
And if he plays his cards right?I just might let him.
ChapterEighteen
Nathan
“I now pronounce you—”
That’s all I hear.
The rest fades into static.
