Page 107 of Best Man Speaking

The change in pressure on my chair is my first clue that I’m no longer alone, second only to the goose bumps that rise along my skin.

There’s only one person I’m attuned to in this way. Even if the slight, almost invisible touch that normally precedes him speaking doesn’t come.

With uncanny timing, I look up at Marcus just as the emcee asks for the bridal party to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. A small smile is already on his lips, and without a word, he steps back from my chair, holding out a single hand in my direction. I can’t help but stare at it, outstretched before me, feeling like I’m agreeing to more than a single dance. I place my clammy palm in his warm one, not allowing myself to think about it for a moment longer.

I let him lead me to the dance floor as if this evening were just for us. For all intents and purposes, it might as well be. What difference does it make as to why everyone else is here when all I see is him?

I take a breath, stand a little straighter, and put the smile on my face back into place. I’ve hardly let it slip today, not when the happiness of two people I love so much is being celebrated. Today is theirs. I have the rest of my life to worry about everything else.

Marcus’s eyes are on mine as he takes the initiative, stepping in close. “Play nice with me?” he asks. “Just for tonight.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, nervous and considering.

“Okay,” I say with a small dip of my chin.

He nods, seeming to instinctively understand that I’m too tired, too emotionally drained for the sharp words that I can normally call upon to fill the imperfect spaces between us. His touch is warm and welcome as he places one hand on my lower back, the other clasping with my own, our fingers naturally intertwining. We don’t move fast; we hardly move at all, which isso not the point. The point is that we are close—closer than we’ve been in days—and while my body feels at ease, just like I knew it would, my mind picks up speed.

Marcus brings his lips close to my ear. “You look beautiful.”

They are the first proper words he’s spoken to me all day in this tentative period of peace, playing our roles while everyone else watches on.

“Thank you.” My fingers hold still over his left shoulder, even as they itch to trace patterns over his suit and along the muscles of his back.

I feel his head shake slightly in disagreement. “Hallie, it’s I who should be thanking you. Whatever you said to Julian…I’m glad neither of us ended up uninvited from this day.”

I nod, my eyes stinging just a little.

Clearing my throat delicately, I put my smile back on. “Your best man’s speech was something else.”

“It was just the truth,” he murmurs with a small shrug, muscles moving beneath my fingers.

Wanting to admit it or not, there’s a good chance that for all his past faults, Marcus is currently the most honest one of the two of us.

“You know, I’ll never begrudge you for choosing yourself, Hallie,” he continues. “For choosing what you want, no matter where it takes you. I know you’ve only ever been hurt by the people who were supposed to have loved you. I’ve lied to you and have been unworthy of you—I still am. You should go back to Edinburgh and embrace your life there.”

My heart shatters.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I haven’t booked my flight yet. That I’ve been considering his words, his choices. That I don’t blame him, and even though it hurts, I understand. But I can’t seem to find the courage to say what I need to. Becauseright now, he’s giving me the choice to have everything I want, and I’m not brave enough to speak my desires aloud.

But when the slow music stops, adjusting to a more upbeat tempo, I keep hold of his hand. Marcus doesn’t resist as I lead him off the dance floor, out into the lobby of the reception center, up the stairs, and into the small room marked for the bridal party.

In here, it’s quiet, and I check the connected bathroom to make sure we’re alone.

Marcus closes the door behind us, but instead of following me into the room, he leans up against it. I head to where he stands, knowing that he shouldn’t need to be the one to make the first move right now.

When there’s only a few inches between us, I’m able to see for certain that any masks we’ve been wearing for the sake of the other have been dropped. I can tell by his eyes they don’t look as happy to see me as I would like them to, and I also know they aren’t as bright as they were only a week ago. Knowing I had anything to do with this hurts a whole lot more than it should. Part of me had been hoping for a smirk. A glance in my direction. A come-hither look so I knew it’d be okay for me to wrap my hand around his damn tie and pull his lips down to mine. And wow. Have I loved hating on this man or what?

I step in closer again, my heart throwing itself up against my rib cage in a desperate effort for its release.

I don’t have the words. Or maybe I don’t have the trust in myself to find the right ones to convey how I feel without sabotaging what I want. Everyone else might find our droll and sarcastic banter as a show of mutual, peaceful dislike, but it’s been a long time since either of us has spoken that way to the other with any real malice. The love-hate of our past had made it funny. Flirty, even. But in the here and now, to fall back on it just feels wrong.

I hope he’ll let me show him instead.

Keeping my eyes on his, I tease my fingertips across his forehead and along the side of his jaw. Marcus doesn’t flinch at my touch, but he doesn’t turn into either. So I persist. Getting as close as I can without our bodies brushing, I bring my lips to his cheek in a soft kiss, pressing them along his jaw.

Finally, firm hands land on my hips and not to push me away.

“Hallie.” His voice is gruff, hands holding me still. “What are you doing?”

---