Desire was all over Gilbert’s face. Clear as day. If it hadn’t been in the middle of a wedding, where all eyes except mine were on the grooms, everyone else would’ve seen it too. Raw desire.

Maybe I was reading too much into it, but there was a different flavor than before. Than the first time he’d looked at me in the gym. That had been nothing but lust. Even the second time at the hot springs, that had been lust as well. But this was different. Lust was still there, I could feel it, but there was more. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Gilbert glanced away, toward Andrew, as he and Joel stepped into the midst of the family, and then he looked back at me. Just for a second. In that flash, I saw it. Felt it.

Longing.

It echoed my own feelings. The long nights of the past two months. The temptation of wanting to see him, wanting to drive to Lake Tahoe and invade his little cabin. The battle of guilt as I compared him to Levi.

It was a stupid thought. I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything for Gilbert. We’d chosen the friendship route.

Fucked-up or not, ridiculous or not, I knew what I saw in Gilbert’s eyes. He wanted me. He’d missed me. Just like I wanted him.

Or, maybe I was just projecting.

Whatever the case, he looked away and focused on Andrew and Joel. As he should. As we all should. That was why we were here. A wedding. Love. Joining of two lives into one. If not for that, I would’ve stayed home. I’d slept less and less each night leading up to the wedding, knowing I’d see Gilbert again. By the time I had to either get dressed or be late, I’d talked myself out of coming a million times. But it had seemed too rude. I’d already promised Joel I’d come, already sent in my RSVP. Already told Gilbert I’d see him there. I wasn’t sure which commitment was the one responsible for me actually showing up.

Yeah, right.

After too long a moment, I forced myself to quit staring at Gilbert and focus on the couple. They really were picture-perfect. Though, who wouldn’t be in this setting? I’d never been to Joel and Andrew’s house before, but it might as well have been from a movie. Maybe it always looked magical, but as it was for the wedding, it was nothing short of breathtaking. As the ceremony began in earnest, the fog rolled in, covering the cliffs, obliterating the ocean in the distance. It might have felt sinister had it not been for the countless lights strung up on twisted metal poles over the crowd. They made it glow. Even the lavender blossoms seemed to sparkle.

To top everything off, Pete Marks’s voice was a low, warm rumble. It fell over us all as surely as the fog, casting a spell so captivating no other voice could be heard. He spoke of love and loss. Spoke of building a life with another person, risking everything to make the other’s dreams your own.

Pete owned Lavender Leaves, the town’s coffee and tea shop. I spent countless hours there grading papers. I knew that Joel had resented him at first; he’d been an obstacle to what Joel had thought he wanted, so I found it rather fitting he was the one they chose to officiate. Not to mention that they couldn’t have found a man who knew more about love. Many times as I took a break from grading, Pete had told me stories of his husband, Omar, his dark hands moving of their own accord as they prepared my drink, his gaze softening as he disappeared into the past. They’d been married thirty-eight years before Omar passed away. I also knew Pete walked with Ruby, his bloodhound, to the cemetery every evening to visit Omar’s grave. The strange thing was, Pete spoke of Omar as if he wasn’t gone, more like he was away and they’d be reunited any day.

I’d told Pete about Levi. Told him how I’d thought I had a love like his and Omar’s, but that I’d been so very wrong, and so very stupid. He hadn’t said much, and he didn’t promise that I’d find love again. He only said that he figured some part of me, deep down, had known Levi wasn’t the one, and that if I found the man I truly was supposed to be with, I’d know. In my gut, I’d be able to feel it.

Those words echoed in my mind as Pete spoke about Andrew and Joel’s marriage, as I frequently glanced at Gilbert, unable to keep my gaze away for too long. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe I had known about Levi. I wasn’t sure. And while I inspected Gilbert, I wondered if maybe he was the one. The right one. I tried to bring up the feeling of certainty that Pete talked about. It wouldn’t come. Or simply couldn’t. Perhaps not everyone got to have a love like Pete and Omar. Or Joel and Andrew, for that matter.

Gilbert wasn’t mine, no more than Levi had been.

But, God, I wanted him to be.

I hadn’t felt any assurance that Gilbert and I were meant to be, but that afternoon on the mountain, with Gilbert knowing all my darkness… I’d never felt safer with anyone. Ever. I could only imagine how Levi would react if he knew about my bathhouse nights. The things he would say. The names he would label me. But not Gilbert. He’d been surprised, but he hadn’t even flinched.

Yeah, I wanted him to be the one.

At least pretend he was the one, even for just one more night. Though we’d sworn there would be no more nights.

Most of the ceremony was as much a blur as the fog. I’d focus a few moments, get distracted by a glance my way from Gilbert, then get lost to fantasizing all the what-ifs. Quickly followed by shoving such desires away as firmly as I could. Only to start the cycle one more time.

Then it was over.

Joel and Andrew kissed. We all cheered.

The two of them walked back down the aisle toward their house, followed by the family. Gilbert glanced my way one final time as he passed, but then he was gone.

Pete announced that they’d be taking wedding photos for the next half hour or so, but there would be cocktails and dancing before dinner. Then he joined the wedding party as well.

Tables were spread out near the house and a space cleared for dancing at the edge of the lavender field that led to the cliffs. As we waited for the photo shoot to be over, I’d talked myself into leaving countless times, then guilt kept me in place. Or a student’s parents would catch me up in conversation, distracting me somewhat. The school year had ended two days before, and the last thing I wanted to talk about was work. However, it was a welcome subject change from where my brain was.

Finally, Joel and Andrew and the family came back, and dinner began. Gilbert sat with the rest of the family, close to the newly wedded couple. Every time I looked his way, he was focused somewhere else. I never felt his gaze on me when I wasn’t looking. There were no longing glances or heated stares. Whatever I’d thought I’d felt during the ceremony had clearly been nothing more than my imagination.

I would wait long enough to be polite, then leave. It couldn’t be that much longer. They’d cut the cake, do their first dance, and then I’d be able to say my congratulations and get the hell back home.

Sure enough, the cutting of the cake was next. It was a tall tower of white, with a cascade of lavender flowers and fondant baseballs down the side, two things I never would’ve put together until I met Joel and Andrew. Gilbert remained close by the couple, nursing a glass of wine or beer, I couldn’t tell which. Then the first dance. Joel led Andrew over the cleared-out dance floor as Faith Hill sang “Paris” over the speakers. It was nearly more than I could take. The looks they gave each other, the whispers. I’d been to countless weddings. So many of the first dances looked like nothing more than a rehearsed show for the guests. Not this one. It was clear they weren’t even aware of the rest of us. When Joel led Andrew a few feet farther so they were deep in the lavender as they danced, I felt my eyes sting. The fog had mostly faded. With the sun gone, the horizon over the sea was a deep purple. And they danced.

And fuck me if the tears didn’t fall. I’d have left right then if I hadn’t glanced over at Andrew’s mom and seen her wiping her eyes. At least I wasn’t the only one crying. Though her tears were of happiness for her son. Mine were for all I’d lost with Levi, illusions or not, and for all I couldn’t have with Gilbert.

They kissed as the song faded, then walked back toward us mere mortals. Another song played, and they were captured by the crowd, people chatting with them, offering congratulations, or maybe just wanting to be close to such happiness. I held back. If I approached them now, I’d cry and make a fool of myself. The glass of wine at dinner had been a mistake. I wasn’t buzzed by any means, but it seemed to have loosened the floodgates.

I waited for another song, then another. With each that passed, I felt a little more in control. I’d noticed Gilbert over at the bar, but that had been three or four songs ago. Maybe he had left, since he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was hooking up with someone in the house, or had gone home with them.

He had every right.

Even so, the thought made me want to throw up. But it did the trick. As the first strains of an acoustic guitar played the opening chords of Harry Styles’ “Sweet Creature,” I headed toward Joel and Andrew. Time to get this over with and leave. I was less than ten feet from them when a hand closed over mine, stopping me. I turned to see Gilbert’s honey-hued eyes looking into mine.

“Dance with me.” Desire was evident in his husky whisper. Clear enough that it washed away the notion that I’d only imagined it all during the ceremony.

Words failed, but I nodded and stepped into him.

His other hand came to rest on the small of my back, pulling me close, and he began to lead. We only made it a few steps before he paused, his rhythm faltering. He glanced away, then looked at me again. “Sorry. I’m a little buzzed.” Beer was heavy on his breath, but not enough to be unpleasant.

“It’s okay. It’s a slow song. Just sway.”

A smile played on his lips, and he pulled me even closer and started to sway.

We danced like that for the entirety of a verse, his firm body pressed to mine, before his hand slid up my back and came to rest on the back of my head. He pulled me down until my cheek pressed against his, the scratch of our stubble whispering in my ear. “I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”

I tried to think of what to say. Something that wouldn’t give too much away.

Gilbert chuckled softly, cutting off my need to respond. “Actually, I was just as afraid that you’d show up too. Afraid I’d do this.”

Despite knowing better, I couldn’t help myself. I pulled away slightly, enough that I could see his face. “Afraid you’d do what? Dance with me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Dance with you.” He licked his lips. “And tell you I don’t think I can do the friend thing. At least not yet. Maybe after another night or two. Maybe then.”

I swallowed. My heart soared. My dick twitched. My body did a billion different things. Everything but form words. And allow me to run away like I should. Yeah, neither of those things happened.

“And I was afraid I’d do this too.” His fingers clung to the back of my head again, and he pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was only pressure.

We swayed to the song. The words sweet creature echoing in my ears with the pressure on the back of my head, on my lips, crushing around my heart, and against my thigh where he was hard against me.

His chest heaved next to mine, and I could feel the pounding of his heart, though I wasn’t certain which beats were his and which were mine. The final guitar strum sounded as the lyrics spoke of returning home, and Gilbert broke the kiss, his eyes opening, then holding my gaze. “I want you.”

Again words were an impossibility.

Maybe it was my lack of response or the sudden absence of the song, but whatever it was, the spell broke.

Gilbert glanced around. “Shit, everyone’s staring. As always.” His tone was dark, and he stepped back, one hand falling away from my neck, but the other still gripped my hand.

Following his gaze, I glanced around as well. Sure enough a few of the other dancers were looking at us, but I couldn’t blame them. We were giving quite a show. I was certain the rumors would be flying in a town as small as Lavender Shores. The new school teacher and one of the Bryants. Anything with one of the five founding families was always big news.

Nothing that would warrant the disdain I heard in Gilbert’s voice. “Sorry.” He let go of my hand and walked away, leaving me standing alone on the dance floor.

I tried to think whether I should follow or walk off in the other direction. Strangely, I began to sway to the slow rhythm of whatever the new song was. I quickly realized what I was doing. Dancing on my own for sure wouldn’t hide the fact that I’d just been rejected—or whatever had happened.

Finally I made my legs do what they’d been built for, and I walked off the dance floor. I bypassed Joel and Andrew. They were talking to someone else, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to say anything intelligible to them at that moment. I felt a gaze on me and glanced back toward them. Sure enough, Andrew was staring at me, mouth hanging open in surprise.

Well, great. Not only would Gilbert and I set tongues wagging, but the groom had noticed us trying to upstage his special day. Well, I supposed that hadn’t been intentional, but whatever.

Like any of that mattered.

I cut through the crowd and the tables, which were mostly empty. Finding a shadowy overhang at the corner of the house, I took shelter, trying to process what had just happened.

I searched the crowd for Gilbert. He wasn’t anywhere.

What had happened?

The answer to all I’d been hoping for over the past two months. The breaking of our stupid promise. The admission that Gilbert wanted to be more than a friend. Sure, he’d said for a night or two, but he’d meant more. I’d felt it. Heard it. It had been in his touch and kiss, every fiber of his being as his body pressed into mine. I’d heard the desire in his voice. The ache, so familiar to my own. And his eyes. They’d told a tale. They hadn’t spoken of the kind of desire that another night or two of hooking up would satiate.

Still I scanned the area. The dance floor, the tables, over by the cake. I finally found him. At the bar.

He tossed back a shot of something, then pushed the glass toward the bartender, demanding another.

Gilbert threw back another shot, then looked my way, like he’d known where I was the entire time. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. Either way, anger flicked through me. Anger and shame.

I had to leave. I’d give my congratulations to Joel and Andrew later. Or not. Hell, I’d brought a gift and a card. That was enough. Flinging myself from my hiding spot, I headed around the front of the house toward my car. I was almost to it when I heard Gilbert call my name. Loud and slurred. Loud enough I was certain everyone at the reception could hear.

I kept walking. The car was only ten feet or so away.

Loud footfalls thumped behind me. “Wait. Walden!”

Oh shit, he was running.

“Walden!” And yelling.

I turned, just in time to see him stumble. He was close enough I was able to lurch forward and catch him, holding him steady.

He gripped my arm, hard, regaining his balance. “Thanks.” Even that one word was slurred. “Don’t leave me.”

Again words failed, but more out of astonishment than anything.

“Please.”

The plea cut at me, but a heartbeat later it just pissed me off. “I need to get home, Gilbert. You stay. It’s your best friend’s wedding, and we’ve put on more than enough of a show.”

He shook his head. “Don’t care. I wanna go home with you. One more night.”

I pulled free of his grip. He stumbled again but didn’t fall. “Seriously? Am I that pathetic and desperate for you that you think I’ll let you screw me after you just mind-fucked me on the dance floor? Never mind that you’re trashed.”

He shook his head again, harder, more desperate. His voice growing louder. “No. Not to fuck. Not like that. I want to be with you tonight. To… be with you. Not just fuck.”

“Holy shit, Gilbert, shut up.” This time I grabbed his arm, giving him a little shake to get him to be quiet. I glanced past his shoulder. I couldn’t tell if people could hear or not. Maybe nobody had. Actually, considering Gilbert’s entire family was there, surely they had. One of them would be on their way over already.

Gilbert attempted an awkward backward sweeping gesture. “Forget about them. They’re just a bunch of fuckers who like to gossip. Who gives a shit?” He stood straighter, scrunched up his face, and lowered his voice. It looked like the effort cost him. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking this all up. I know that. I’m sorry. Please don’t let it end like this, okay? Please.”

“Gilbert.” Some of my anger faded, but only confusion flooded in its place. “Let’s not do this, okay? Go back to your family. If you wake up tomorrow and still want to talk to me, then come by my house. You know where I live.”

He shook his head.

“Really, Gilbert. It’s for the best.”

Still more head shaking. “No. It isn’t.” His voice was so sad. So dark. “Not for the best. Never is. Not that it should be. Not for me.” For a moment I thought he was going to argue again, but he turned and walked away—stumbled away, actually.

I thought back to what he told me by the lake. His battle with depression. The times he’d considered taking his life. I couldn’t help but wonder. Part of me felt foolish. He wouldn’t try anything like that. Not because of me. But with the alcohol?

Maybe I should get his family. His parents. Andrew or Joel? What a horrid thought. I was certain by this point he hadn’t been as loud as I’d thought. That no one had noticed. And if I went and got them? Then he’d be responsible for this shit show during his best friend’s wedding.

Gilbert stumbled again, and I was fairly certain I heard a choked-off sob.

Shit. “Gilbert, wait.”