That’s the million-dollar question. He’s waited patiently for weeks, while I’ve attempted to sort through my complex feelings about him and agonized over the implications of dating him. And I’ve sent him so many mixed signals. My body clearly wants him, craving his touch and closeness, while my brain wants to pull back out of fear.
I exhale deeply, placing the curling iron on the bathroom counter. “Tonight. I’m going to tell him I’m ready after thewedding,” I reply confidently, a small grin growing across my face as warmth spreads throughout my body.
“Seriously? Oh my God!” Chelsi shouts, dancing on the couch. “How are you going to tell him? Why not do it before the wedding? Are you going to sleep with him tonight?”
“One question at a time. I’m waiting until after the wedding because I want us to have some private time to discuss it, rather than me dropping the news on him and being surrounded by other people for the following six hours.”
“That makes sense. It’s possible you might not make it to the wedding if you tell him beforehand.” Chelsi chuckles, waggling her eyebrows multiple times to make sure I’m getting her innuendo.
“I’m not going to sleep with him tonight. I want to take things slow. Make sure we’re building a strong foundation that can last long-term. I don’t want to screw this up.” I sigh, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, knowing everything is about to change.
“You won’t. You’re so much stronger after everything that happened with Brian. You know what you deserve and won’t take any less. Plus, you’re getting better every day at standing up for yourself, instead of going along with what everyone else wants. I’m so proud of the progress you’re making,” Chelsi says with a genuine smile. “Jake has been a big catalyst in these changes for you, but you’ve put in the hard work. And now you get to reap the benefits… And I get to live vicariously through you.”
Laughing, I shake my head. Chelsi can express herself emotionally and sexually so easily. I envy that. She’s always her authentic self, not giving a damn about what anyone thinks. It’s exactly how I want to be, moving forward. And that starts tonight, by telling Jake how much I want to be with him.
forty-four
“You look incredible,”Jake murmurs, his hand on my lower back as we walk into the Southmount Country Club for Dylan and Hannah’s reception.
“You’ve already told me that multiple times tonight,” I reply, blushing and thinking about the numerous compliments he’s given me tonight, starting with a look of awe when he picked me up. He was practically speechless, and the feeling was definitely mutual. As I predicted, he’s wearing a black suit that hugs every line of his body, with a tie that’s daring me to grab it and pull him into a kiss.
“Get used to it. I’m going to be vocal when I like what I see.” He winks at me before pulling out my chair at our table. Thankfully, we’re seated with Brandon and his wife, plus a few other people we attended high school with. “How do you feel about being back in this room?” Jake asks, his eyes briefly glance around the room before meeting mine. “The last time we were here?—”
“I’m good,” I answer, looking around the room and remembering how Jake had transformed it into a magical fairytale garden for me. “This room is filled with goodmemories. All because of you. I’m over the drama that happened afterward.”
Jake’s eye contact with me intensifies. “Does that mean you’re ready?—”
“I was hoping we’d get to sit with the two of you,” Brandon says, pulling out a chair for his wife before sitting next to Jake. “I really didn’t want to be stuck chatting with a bunch of strangers all night.”
The air between Jake and me is heavily charged. Although Brandon interrupted our conversation, Jake’s gaze remains fixed on mine. My breath hitches, seeing the hopefulness in his eyes, the silent confirmation that we’ll continue this once we’re alone. I tilt my head to the side, desperately needing a break from his stare before I end up confessing everything while we sit at a table with six other people.
“It’s good to see the two of you back in town. How’s work been, Jake?” Thomas asks from across the table, looking directly at us. He wasn’t in our inner circle of friends in high school, more of a loner whom Dylan became friends with after graduation. I don’t think Jake or I ever had a one-on-one conversation with Thomas, making his directness a little odd. Jake flinches slightly, unease spreading across his face. A tinge of anxiety starts to fester within me; I’m worried Thomas is about to stir the pot and create unwanted drama.
“C’mon, Thomas. It’s a wedding. No shop talk tonight,” Brandon teases, taking a drink of his water. “Who wants to place a bet on whether or not Dylan has planned an elaborate musical entrance?”
The table laughs, launching into a discussion of what antics Dylan might have planned for the reception. We run through a litany of options, each one crazier than the next, but nothing compares to what we see when Dylan and Hannah walk throughthe main doors of the ballroom for the first time as husband and wife.
“He did not,” I whisper to Jake, leaning over in my chair, not wanting anyone else to hear us.
“Oh,he did. I can’t tell whether Hannah’s irritated or thrilled by what he’s doing,” Jake murmurs, cocking his head as he attempts to process the craziness we’re witnessing. As expected, there is a light show with an excessive amount of fog pouring along the walkway to the dance floor. Hannah looks like a beacon of bridal bliss in her classic A-line wedding dress, while Dylan has taken off his tux jacket and replaced it with a bowling shirt and is carrying the ugly orange bowling ball he purchased a couple of weeks ago. The one he swears is magical.
I cover my mouth, stifling a laugh. “I think Hannah is used to his shenanigans. But I didn’t think she’d agree to something like this at their wedding,” I reply, tilting my head and pressing my lips together as Dylan pretends to bowl as he walks across the dance floor to the head table. “My mom would lose her shit if this happened at my wedding.”
“I promise not to do anything like this when we get married,” Jake whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear. So quiet that I question whether I heard it correctly or if my mind imagined it. He turns to look at me, his eyes a mix of sincerity and desire, causing butterflies to run rampant inside me and all the air to whoosh out of my lungs.
What do I do? Should I say something? The look in his eyes makes me confident I heard him correctly.Has he thought about marrying me?Or was it an offhand comment I shouldn’t read into? I place a hand on my chest, trying to slow my heart rate and breathing, praying everyone else is focused on Hannah and Dylan while the two of us are in our own little world.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Brandon jokes, bursting the bubble Jake and I were in and causing us to avert our eyes from each other.
We spend the rest of the reception eating, drinking, and chatting with our tablemates, reducing the scorching hot sexual tension between us to a simmer. That is, until Jake asks me to dance in front of everyone at our table, making it impossible for me to say no. Not that I would. Being in his arms on the dance floor has taken up a portion of my thoughts all night, but I never anticipated it would happen. It’s one thing to attend the party together as friends, another to dance closely in front of everyone. I can only imagine the gossip that could blossom from an innocent dance.
Jake takes my hand, leading me to a corner of the dance floor that’s less occupied than the rest. He wraps his arms around my waist as I lock my hands together around his neck. We’re dancing as if we’re middle schoolers who’ve been told to “leave room for Jesus,” ensuring anyone who looks at us only sees two people enjoying a friendly dance. As long as they can’t see our eyes and the longing looks we’re exchanging. The non-existent words spoken between us. There’s no denying how we feel about each other anymore. The only thing left is the declaration. And I’m eagerly counting down the minutes until I can tell Jake I want to be his.
forty-five
“I hada great time with you tonight, Kate,” Jake says as he pulls into his driveway. He didn’t say a word during the ten-minute drive from the country club. I haven’t, either. My thoughts are consumed with finding the best way to tell him how I feel and trying to beat down my ever-increasing nervousness.
“Me, too,” I reply softly.
