“I still can’t believe this worked,” I whisper in Ryan’s ear as he sways me to the slow song the band is playing.

“I think it was smart to wait until the dinner was over and the drinking started. We would’ve stuck out like sore thumbs if we tried to belly up to one of the tables.”

“Yeah, they make seating maps and everything for the dinner party. There’s no way we would’ve pulled that off,” I agree.

The band brings their song to an end and Ryan dips me dramatically over his arm. Maybe it’s the champagne I’ve been drinking all night, or maybe it’s just the atmosphere of love that only a wedding can bring out in people, but my head is swimming in a warm glow.

“Want a refill?” Ryan nods toward the surprisingly short line at the open bar.

I giggle in agreement.

I can’t help it. I feel like when I was a kid and managed to pull off a day of hooky. I tried it a couple times and always got caught. But one time, I managed to erase the robo-call reporting me absent from my nana’s answering machine. Just that one time, I was also smart enough to spend part of my day of freedom practicing her handwriting and carefully scrawling myself an excuse to present to my teacher the next day. I remember the exhilaration that shot through me when I realized I’d pulled it off. That same feeling making me as giddy as the bubbles of champagne bursting on the surface of my drink that Ryan just handed me.

“To the happy couple.” Ryan holds up his glass and we clink the crystal together. “And, you know, whoever got married today too.” He takes a sip and I swallow a mouthful of the golden drink.

Couple.

We do make a happy couple. It’s just a word I’d never give us, since our time together is so short. Suddenly the question that’s been swirling inside me all night can’t be contained any longer. It’s probably the drinks, but I don’t care. I need to know.

“Ryan, do you think you’d ever get married?” I try to ask it so casually, but the way he lifts his eyebrow at me and glances toward me from the corner of his eyes tells me I failed.

“Married?” He repeats the word like I’ve just started speaking to him in a foreign tongue. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, think about it now.” I push him. Why am I doing this? So much for subtle.

“I guess if it was the right circumstances and the right woman, then, yes, I probably would. Why? You feeling inspired? Should we go run down to city hall tomorrow and make this official?” His dry chuckle tells me he thinks the way the suggestion makes my heart race is ridiculous.

I deflate as the realization hits me that he doesn’t see any future with us. I’m not the right girl or the right circumstances to make him consider settling down.

“Me? Get married? I don’t think so,” I scoff theatrically, hoping I’m doing a convincing job. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to cling onto him or make this something he doesn’t want. “I think it’ll be a long, long time before I try my hand at a real relationship again.”

“Oh.” For a second, he almost seems disappointed. Wait, is there a chance? Could I have been wrong?

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt you two.” Ryan and I turn to face a tall man who’s been sitting at the head table all night. I’m guessing this broad-shouldered beast is the best man. It’s incredible how much larger he looks now that he’s towering over us.

“Yes,” Ryan answers flippantly, but my gut twists up in knots as I realize the jig is up. I can see some other guys standing off to the side watching us, murmuring to each other as they eye us up.

“I’m Eric’s brother.” Yep, that’d be the best man all right. “And I don’t believe I’ve met either of you before. Do you mind telling me who invited you to the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Ryan’s voice is almost mocking as he plays dumb.

I grab his hand and let my palm sweat against his weirdly cool dry one.

“Uh, yeah. You know, this big party here. The one where you’re helping yourself to all the alcohol?” The man’s olive face begins to turn pink as a wave of crimson climbs his neck. “That would be a wedding reception, and as far as I can see, you’re not on the guest list.”

“Oh shit, is this a wedding reception?” Ryan looks over at me like he just realized this fact. “So, this isn’t the class of ninety-eight reunion? Damn, how’d I mess that up?”

“Seriously, bud, get the fuck outta here before I lose my temper.” The best man grits his teeth, clearly not impressed with Ryan’s little song and dance.

“How about you ask nice, man? Stop being such a dick.” Ryan narrows his eyes and squares off his jaw.

Wait. What the fuck?

“Let’s just go.” I try to pull Ryan away, but the two men are in some kind of staring match showdown. Like those games we played as kids where the first person who blinks loses.

“Sure, bro, how about this? Please get the fuck outta here before I knock you out and drag your ass out.”

“See, was that so hard?” Ryan claps the man’s shoulder and the red officially travels the rest of the way up his face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snarls and swings, but Ryan ducks and pulls me toward the door.

“Time to go, I guess.” Ryan smirks. “Thanks for having us,” he calls out loudly as we race out of the ballroom. “Mazel Tov and all that shit. Have a great life.” He guides me out the door, but angry best man isn’t too far behind us. He’s not interested in us leaving now. He’s got another goal and that’s to pound the stupid smile off Ryan’s face.

“Ryan, he’s following us!”

“Run!” He yanks me down the hotel hallway and out the double doors that lead to the stairs. Quickly, he shoves both of the outside metal doors open that lead into the night before tugging me up the stairs to the next floor and then stopping cold. He puts his finger over his lips to shush me and we listen as the angry best man rushes outside. The big doors slam shut behind him, leaving him searching for a smartass and a redhead party crasher in the cool autumn night.

“That was close.” Ryan laughs and we start walking up the rest of the stairs to the fifth floor.

As we climb the flights, I wonder what made him decide to ramp that whole thing up. Why didn’t he just apologize and leave gracefully? We make it to the fourth floor when Ryan stops dead on the landing.

“What’s wrong?” I glance at him.

“Nothing, I just thought we should take a little break. You know, catch our breaths.” He tugs me into him so tight his throbbing cock grows against me.

“I don’t think what you have in mind is going to calm us down.” I shake my head.

“Oh, I don’t know.” His hand slides up under my dress, brushing my thighs gently. “I always feel completely relaxed after. Don’t you?” he murmurs and before I can answer his lips crush mine in a kiss that makes the stairwell around us disappear and passion boil my blood.

His hand keeps trailing up until his fingers graze my panties and I remember my naughty secret. I know we might get caught. We should walk up the last flight of stairs and do this in our hotel room, but something about Ryan brings out my wild streak. Something about him makes consequences small and normal moments into adventures.

Before I can stop myself I’m grinding against him, repeating only one word, “Yes.”