‘Where’s everyone going?’
Luke doesn’t answer.Just offers his hand.
Against my better judgement – blame it on the alcohol or the stupid way he smiles – I slide my hand into his.His palm is rough and warm; his fingers close around mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.As if we do this all the time.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says with a crooked smile.‘I don’t bite.’
Lord, help me.
I let out a totally casual, definitely not deranged little chuckle and follow him, because I have no willpower and also I might be concussed by sexual tension.
He leads us towards the sound of splashing and loud laughter.Somewhere a speaker is pulsing out music, and as we round the bend, I see a massive pool lit by string lights and coloured lanterns, glittering as if someone has poured the stars straight into the water.
People are already in the pool, clothes and all, champagne glasses raised aloft – tiny trophies of poor decision-making.And at the centre of it all: Ella and Darcy, soaked to the bone, kissing like they invented it.A camera flash goes off as they spin in the water.The speaker starts blasting ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’, and suddenly it’s not a wedding anymore – it’s a movie.
Abbey cannonballs into the pool, screaming with joy, while Dex/ Dax/Derek – who is either drunk, in love, or drunk in love – cheers her on from the water.
‘Get in!’she shouts at me.
I hesitate.My boobs are taped within an inch of their lives, there’s a high probability my dress will be completely sheer when wet, and my Spanx were not designed for underwater combat.
‘You trust me?’Luke says, already pulling me towards the edge.
‘Um.No?’
Too late.His hands are on my waist and the world tilts.We plunge in.
I come up sputtering, half laughing, half drowning.My dress is a wet mess, plastered to my skin.I’m mid-adjustment when Luke reappears, making it clear that dignity is officially out of reach.
His white shirt is transparent, his hair dripping, and his grin somehow brighter than the pool lights.
‘See?’he says.‘Not so bad.’
‘You’re insane,’ I reply, splashing him with zero remorse.
Luke shakes his head, clearly amused.‘You worry too much.’
I roll my eyes.‘Go terrorise some other poor soul.’
He moves closer, brushing wet hair off my face with maddening gentleness.‘You’re exhausting, you know that?’
Danger.Emotional danger.
Before I can process how close we are, Abbey swims over and flops an arm around my neck.
‘There you are!’she slurs.‘Get on Luke’s shoulders.You and me.Pool noodle duel.Let’s go.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Do it!’
I shoot her a glare and she grins.She scrambles over to the curly- haired groomsman and climbs onto his shoulders like a drunk acrobat with vengeance in her heart, brandishing her pool noodle as if she’s going to war.
And then Luke is in front of me again, holding out his hand, brows raised, as if he doesn’t know why he’s doing it either – but he is.
I stare at him for half a second too long.And then I’m on his shoulders.
His hands wrap firmly around my thighs and – okay, wow – they’re very warm and very there.I’m trying to ignore the fact that his head is between my thighs when Abbey smacks me in the head with a foam noodle.
