My chest aches, physically hurts, when I pull myself away before I cross that line again.
I’m not sure my self-control has any slack left. It’s pulled so tight, and with every touch of her skin, every kiss of her lips, every sexy little noise she makes, another thread snaps.
I’m dangerously close to breaking, consequences be damned.
Music plays through the speakers of the rented hall, old crooners from the ’50s and ’60s.
Brielle’s extended family is larger than I expected. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and kids are everywhere. The last of the speeches finishes up.Everyone giving their congratulations, admiration, and well-wishes to the elderly couple. Her grandparents sit at the front of the room in decorated chairs, streamers and balloons tied to the back slats. They’ve been holding hands all night, even after sixty years together.
A woman joins me and Brielle where we are standing with Evelyn, Jeff, and some of her other family.
“Hey, everyone. Bri, I didn’t think you were coming for this. Evelyn said you couldn’t get the time off,” she says.
Brielle stiffens beside me, and I instinctively put my hand on her lower back. This woman has barely spoken to us, and I already don’t like her. Only because I can tell that Brielle doesn’t like her.
This must be the cousin.
“I said I wasn’t sure,” Evelyn adds. “Bri just started at her job, and she wasn’t sure if she could convince her tyrant of a boss to make an exception to the paid time off policy.” She turns to Brielle with a question in her eyes. “I never asked, but was it hard to convince the jerk?”
Laughter shakes her shoulders as she tries to keep it in. She shakes her head to give herself a moment before she opens her mouth. I glance at her, my brow raised in waiting. “Nope. He caved immediately,” she says. “He’s not as scary as people made him out to be. I think he’s secretly a big softie.”
I close my fist around the fabric of her dress, pulling it tight, and lower my head until my lips brush the shell of her ear. “He’s not,” I whisper just for her.
The cousin just plows through as if the conversation isn’t happening around her. “Jason is around here somewhere, if you want to say hi to him,” she says. Her eyes get soft, and her mouth turns down at the sides. She places her hand on her heart. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. We completely understand.”
“Who’s this?” I ask, bringing her attention to me.
“Damian, this is my cousin, Cassie—”
“It’s Cassandra,” she says, her tone oozing condescension. “I’m the one married to Jason.”
I move my hand to Brielle’s hair, caressing her silky locks and letting them fall through my fingers. “And who’s Jason?”
Cassie… Cassandra… sneers at me. “Jason is the guy who broke poor Bri’s heart. And you are?”
“The guy that’s not,” I say.
Brielle looks at me with those clear blue eyes shining with pride. I grip her jaw, holding her still, as I bring my mouth to hers.
I’m putting on a show for her cousin’s sake, and it’s a damn good one. I don’t give a fuck if this woman or her husband or anyone else thinks that Brielle’s heart was broken by some high school tool. They’ll know her heart isn’t broken now. They’ll all know that she’s moved on. With me.
I savor the taste of her lips for another second before I release her from my grasp.
Her glazed eyes slowly clear before she turns back to her cousin. “Cassie, this is Damian, my boyfriend.”
“It’s Cassandra now, remember,” she says haughtily. “And I didn’t realize you were seeing people again. I’m really glad for you.” The fake sympathy in her voice grates on my nerves.
Evelyn rolls her eyes. I think even Jeff huffs a disapproving sigh. The other people that were with us a moment ago take their leave.
“I’ve always been dating… you know what…” Brielle’s words fall away as her cousin’s shines an extravagant smile over her shoulder, her fingers dancing in a flirty little wave.
“My beautiful wife. I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”
The man who’s just joined us is everything I expected him to be. In his mid to late twenties, like Brielle, he has the arrogance of a mediocre high school jock whose glory days will forever be behind him. He’s wearing a pair of navy pants and a tan shirt, his light brown hair messy in an intentional kind of way.
He gives his wife a kiss, but when he tries to pull back, she grabs his face and takes the kiss dirty before finally letting go of his face.
“Hey, Ev, Jeff… Bri.” He breathes her name, acting as if he didn’t know she was there. It’s as fake as the Rolex watch on his wrist. “How have you been? We never see you anymore, with you running away to the other side of the country and all.”
