On your own.
Like I’m a cautionary tale.
Like I’m unfinished without a man standing beside me.
My mouth opens.Closes.I don’t even know what to say.
And then—the air shifts.
It’s subtle at first.
A ripple.
Like the whole room inhales at once.
A big, warm hand wraps around the back of my neck.
Not tight.
But possessive.
Strong.Steady.
Claiming.
I turn.
It’s him.J.T.
He’s looking down at me like a thirsty man, and I’m a tall drink of water.
And suddenly, I don’t feel too big.
Or too loud.
Or too much.
I feel like enough.
“Oh, she’s not alone, Tom,” J.T.says evenly.
But he’s still looking at me.
Only me.
“Sorry I’m late, Honey.Traffic was a bitch.”
Honey.
My pulse trips.
“You look beautiful,” he adds.
And before I can overthink it—before I can brace myself—he bends his head and kisses me.
Right there.
In front of everyone.
