Page 14 of Midnight Wishes

Engaging in his game was the only way she’d win.

‘You know, it’s practically tradition for the best man and the maid of honour to hook up after the wedding. In case you were eager for a repeat of that night.’ Alex’s voice was a slow, smooth drawl.

Sarah smiled sweetly. ‘I don’t do hook-ups at weddings.’

It was a rule she’d held for most of her adult life. Emotions ran too high at weddings. There was too much desire to find love, romance, making even the barest connection feel charged. That rule had been followed for years.

Until Gregg.

And hadn’t that led to a complete waste of fifteen months of her life.

‘Why is that?’ Alex sounded amused. ‘Don’t tell me you need to have feelings for someone before you fuck them? It’s a cute idea, but I think we both know it’s not true.’

‘No, I just think that if I’m giving someone a pity fuck’—she glanced around them, ensuring no one was near enough to hear—‘the least they can do is pay for my alcohol first.’

A groove popped in Alex’s cheek at her tone. She’d thought Abby was joking about the dimple. Sarah didn’t have many physical weaknesses in men—she found them attractive overall, but women’s bodies had far more features to recommend them aesthetically—but a good dimple… It did things to her.

‘That’s interesting, considering you didn’t even let me offer to buy you a drink before your tongue was down my throat. Or before you were shamelessly grinding against me in public. Or before you let me lift you onto that sink.’ Alex lowered his voice when he saw her eyes dart again. ‘Don’t worry, Princess. I can be very discreet.’

She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice her nerves. So she patted his cheek, letting attitude cloak her anxiety once more. Ignoring the sparking sensation in her skin as it touched his. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, pretty boy. You weren’t intended to be a pity fuck.You were in the right place at the right time. I needed to get off, and you could help.’

There was some truth to that, even if it was wholly underselling the situation. She’d had sex a handful of times since her breakup, not quite at her usual level of comfort during any of those encounters. But somehow, even with his cocky demeanour and an appearance sewn together entirely of red flags, Alex had made her feel safe that night. If she hadn’t been out with Zoe, she might have gone home with him after all. She had needed to get off, but she hadn’t realised how much she’d needed an actual human being to handle her body with care and act like it brought them as much pleasure as it did her until Alex had done exactly that.

Discerning blue eyes cut right to the heart of her. ‘Sure. Well, the offer stands. Then…or before.’

Unwilling to entertain the memories that had kept her company more than once in the intervening months—not when he was right there—Sarah fell onto her strongest defence. ‘Abbyjustasked you not to hook up with anyone who would be at her wedding.’

‘No. She asked me not to break the heart of anyone who might be at the wedding. You’re not in danger of getting your heart broken, are you? Not since you’ve made it clear it was just physical.’

He had her there. And it had beengood.

Thankfully, Alex spoke again before she could reminisce. ‘But even if you’re going to hold out on me there, we should get to know each other. Less…biblically.’

She really hated that smirk. Almost as much as the twinkle in those stupidly bright eyes.

‘Why? It’s not like we’re friends.’

It was feigned, sure, but that made the wince that flashed across his face no less satisfying. ‘You know how to hurt a man. But I’m sure we’re going to be seeing each other plenty in the lead up to the wedding. It wouldn’t hurt.’

Sarah tossed her hair and raised an eyebrow, reminding herself that she could play and engage with his bullshit all she wanted, but ultimately she needed to stay on his good side. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘How did you get into art? When did you start painting?’

She’d been expecting something obnoxious. More flirting, barely disguised as polite conversation. Not an attempt to know more about her. It caught her off guard enough that she simply started speaking.

‘Art’s been there as long as I can remember, I guess. My mum’s a seamstress, so she always had drawing stuff around. While she was getting her business off the ground, she worked long hours and weekends, so I hung out at the studio a lot before I was old enough to stay home alone. She would put me in a corner with paper and pencils while she dealt with clients. And I fell in love. What about you? Did you always know you wanted to help large corporations amass stupid amounts of wealth?’

Everything about Alex’s answering smile made her seethe. ‘Actually, Judgy McJudgeface, I studied art history,’ he said.

Thatshe hadn’t expected. So, the collection on the walls possibly was made up of his selections. And, like with himmaking the perfect choice for the invites, she hated that she had to respect him a little more because of it.

‘I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it. But after my GCSEs, I knew I wanted to learn more. Then I left uni and realised I didn’t have the connections to go anywhere in the art world or any real, marketable skills for any other industry. So if I wanted to eat, I needed to find a job that would take someone with an arts degree and an immeasurable amount of charm. I talked my way into an entry level finance job and worked my way up. And yes, I’ve been helping big corporations amass stupid amounts of wealth ever since. Along with amassing my own.’

He gestured vaguely to the room around them. Despite his cool, confident tone, it didn’t sound like a brag. Combined with a tilt of his head to stare into the depths of his drink, there was a detachment to him that almost came across…sad.

‘But hey, all that money means I can purchase a shit ton of art, so that’s a win, right? If nothing else, I’ve bought my way into those spaces I used to dream about.’

Because that was the way in, wasn’t it? She’d pitched her work to so many galleries and received the same rejection each time: they didn’t have the capacity to include an unknown artist. But they’d be happy for her to buy out the space for a period to do her own show. Something—some glimmer of rationality in the back of her mind, hanging on by a thread as it threatened to fall victim to her third glass of wine—stopped her from commiserating with him about the cruel structure of the fine art world. They didn’t need to bond over this. Over anything. Being her best friend’s almost brother was more than enough of a relationship for them to share.

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