January - Two months ago

The happiness radiating out of every single pore of my sister Reagan is a welcome change. I always knew she and her fiancé Noah were meant for each other, it just took them four years to find their way back together. Sometimes, fate has a way of stepping in and destroying all our plans for the future. I should know. I’m well versed in fate’s assholish qualities. How else can I explain the guy I’ve been in love with for the past three years sleeping with someone else - a friend of mine. An ex-friend now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she ended up exactly where I imagined I would - as Mrs. Joseph Baldwin. One drunken hook up between them and now she’s pregnant with his daughter and they’ve been married for four months.

I know, I deserve better. He’s a lying, cheating dick who wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit him in the ass. He gave me up after all and I pride myself on being the best person I can be. If you Google ‘good girl,’ I’m pretty sure my picture is the first thing that comes up.

Glancing down, I run my hand over the soft material of the pale pink dress I’m wearing. Even the way I dress is appropriate. Pink and pearls are two of my favorite things or at least that’s what everyone thinks and I’ve never done anything to correct their faulty assumptions. How could I when ninety-nine percent of the time I’m wearing both?

What they don’t know, what I won’t even admit to myself is that I’m sick of my good girl image. At this point it’s starting to feel like a persona I’ve adopted to make everyone like me - everyone except me. I can’t stand this sickeningly sweet person I’ve become.

Shaking my head, I gulp down some more of the champagne Noah supplied for their surprise engagement party. He asked my sister Reagan to marry him earlier tonight and he had us all waiting here to celebrate with them. The two of them haven’t stopped smiling since they arrived. That’s the way love’s supposed to make you feel. It’s not supposed to change you for the worse or turn you into a meek bobblehead who only knows how to nod their head in agreement.

When did I become a doormat that Joseph wiped his feet on - and a pink one at that? It may have started with him, but it’s spilled over into the rest of my life and now I’m the ultimate people pleaser. I please everyone except myself. It’s exhausting.

I’m tired of being me. I want to be brash and bold, two things I forgot how to be when I met Joseph my senior year of college. Instead, I let him mold me into the perfect little accessory on his arm - the perfect aspiring politician’s wife. And when push came to shove he ended up sleeping with my friend who’s the exact opposite. She has a list of ex-lovers a mile long and she never wears pink or pearls. How’s that for irony?

Drinking back the rest of the champagne, I frown at my empty glass. Guess I need a refill. Each one goes down smoother than the last and makes me feel a little better.

“Would you like another?” A deep voice to my left asks as a large tan masculine hand appears in front of me. My head spins around to see who’s speaking and I have to brace myself against the wall behind me. The champagne is affecting my balance or maybe it’s the sight of this stranger’s devastatingly handsome face.

He flashes me a quick grin showing his straight white teeth and a possible dimple in his left cheek. “Would you like some more champagne?” he offers again, holding the glass up in front of me. My father always told me not to accept drinks from strangers, but there’s something kind about his hazel eyes that has me clasping my hand around the glass. Our fingers brush, his skin is warm to the touch and causes a flutter of excitement in my stomach and chest. My eyes sweep up to meet his. There’s heated interest in them as they travel down to my mouth, where they remain. Licking my suddenly dry lips, I watch as he continues to stare. What is he thinking? A wave of heat washes over me and I let my gaze wander down to his mouth. His lips are masculine, the bottom one fuller than the top. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. I’ve never kissed a stranger before.

He holds his hand out in front of me. “I’m N…”

“Don’t tell me your name,” I quickly interrupt.

“You don’t want to know my name?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“No.” I grab his hand. “Come with me,” I order as I begin to walk toward the exit of the room.

“Okay, you don’t need to ask me twice. Do I get to know your name?” he questions.

“Nope, no names, no details at all.” I set the glass down on a table we pass by.

“I’m all for a little mystery. I’ll even volunteer my body up for your exploration in the name of chemistry. It’s always been my favorite subject.”

Glancing back as we exit the room, I don’t notice anyone looking our way. Good. I don’t need witnesses. I pause to get my bearings and figure out where we need to go next.

“Where are we going and what are you going to do to me?” His voice is deep and husky with a hint of laughter next to my ear as he leans down close. When I turn my face toward him our lips are only inches apart. They’re close enough to feel his warm breath on mine, to smell the mint on his breath. Fuck it. I grip his head and smash our mouths together. He makes a noise of surprise when our teeth clash, but recovers quickly. His hands slide into my hair as he takes over control of the kiss. His tongue lashing against mine conjures up images of us naked in bed together with him thrusting his cock into me.

Oh god. I’ve never been overcome by such a need to kiss someone before. It was uncontrollable and impossible to restrain myself and now that I have his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, I want more. Shameless, I rub my breasts against his chest. The thin material of his buttoned shirt doesn’t disguise the rock-hard chest beneath. My hands slide down to explore his wide shoulders and thick biceps.

He grips me under my ass and scoops me up in his arms. I wrap my legs around his hips and he groans into my mouth, pressing me back into the wall behind me. We’re in the brightly lit hallway where anyone could come out and see us grinding against each other and I can’t be bothered enough to care. All I can think of is how good his hard cock feels pressing against my clit and that I never want this kiss to end.

His lips leave mine to slide a wet path down my neck as he gently bites the delicate skin below my ear. “Can I know your name now?” he huskily asks, thrusting his hips into me.

“No,” I moan. “No names.” My fingers rake through his thick dark brown hair. It’s softer than it looks and I imagine his head between my legs.

“Then I’m going to call you Candy.”

“Candy?” I question.

He licks along my collarbone and buries his face in the valley between my breasts. “You look like cotton candy in this dress.” The warmth of his tongue bathes the top curves of my breasts. “You taste like it too,” he murmurs.

The slam of a door in the distance has his head raising. My legs unwrap from his hips and he places me down. He steps back away from me and runs a hand through his hair while I adjust my dress.

We both glance up as someone enters the other end of the hallway. It’s only one of the employees from the catering company Noah hired, but it’s enough to break the spell between us. Reality has come crashing back in full force and I’m horrified at my actions these past five minutes. I just made out with a total stranger and let him dry hump me against a wall. His face was buried in my boobs and I didn’t tell him my name. I didn’t even want to know his. I still don’t. Now I just want to get the hell out of here and forget this happened. I can always blame it on the champagne.

“I have to go,” I blurt out, then begin to hurry down the long hallway toward the exit.

“Wait,” he shouts, but I keep moving. “Candy, where are you going?”

I don’t answer him or look back. I hurry around the corner and find the ladies restroom so I can disappear inside. Once the door closes behind me, I breathe a sigh of relief. Moving over to the sink, I stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are pinker than I think I’ve ever seen them, a combination of passion and embarrassment. My hair was neat and orderly at the beginning of the party, but now it’s a long, light brown mess from his fingers. I don’t even look like myself. My pink dress is askew, the edge of my white lace bra exposed. Smoothing over my hair with both my hands helps to get it back in order and I make sure my dress is covering everything it needs to.

Glancing down at the diamond encrusted platinum Rolex Joseph bought me for my twenty-fourth birthday, I realize it’s too early for me to leave. I don’t want to disappoint Reagan. Sighing, I resign myself to returning to the party room and I head back in that direction. I know I’ll have to ignore the handsome stranger for the rest of the night. I take a deep breath when my hand closes around the doorknob, here goes nothing.  Once I step back inside I allow my eyes to scan the space, seeking out his tall form. I’m disappointed he’s not anywhere to be seen, but I know it’s for the best. It’s not like anything could ever come of it. Spontaneously kissing one stranger doesn’t change that I’m a good girl who’s forgotten how to be anything else.

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