Page 6 of Midnight Wishes

‘He’s the best. Trust me. You’re just lucky he owes me a favour. And his girlfriend is a firecracker. You don’t have to hire her to plan the whole thing, but she knows everyone in the events industry, and she’ll be able to pull some strings for you when bakers and caterers and florists start laughing at your timeline or trying to charge you exorbitant last-minute fees.’

‘And how wouldyouknow so much about potential wedding planning snags, Aleksander?’

Whatever Abby had intended, her words hit a nerve. Alex froze, mouth already opened to snap back at her. Then, in the least graceful movement Sarah had seen him perform all night, he slumped back into his seat. ‘Just take a look at his portfolio. I think you’ll like it.’

‘Thanks, Alex,’ Erik said quietly. After having watched the sparring match impassively, he shot his brother an apologetic smile.

Sarah wondered how many similar arguments he’d witnessed in their childhood. Alex waved it off, his slightly pouty lips now pressed into a thin line.

‘So,’ Sarah began, ‘Alex is short for Aleksander?’ It was a feeble attempt at restarting the conversation, laughable when you considered that there wasn’t much else itcouldbe short for, but it had Alex rolling his head back to her, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

His nod remained sharp and terse.

‘You don’t like it?’

‘Our parents’—he gestured at Erik—‘insisted on the traditional spellings, and no one fucking gets mine right.’

Sarah nodded slowly, tapped out after that single attempt at a subject change. Although,hey, remember that time we fucked?could certainly throw a big enough grenade to help steer the conversation away from their annoyance.

Thankfully, before her distaste for discomfort could make her blurt anything incriminating, Erik managed to resume a casual conversation with Alex, coaxing Abby back into it slowly.

Within a few minutes, the tension had lifted, and laughter was bouncing around the table again.

To someone who had grown up without siblings, the tonal shifts in the evening had been slightly bizarre.

When they called it a night half an hour later, Alex let them out, pausing for a moment with Abby and Erik, who had insisted they’d go back to Ealing so Sarah wouldn’t have to travel by herself. She appreciated the gesture, even if she was used to traversing London alone at a much later hour, but that night she would have been quite happy for some time alone to mull over her predicament. While they spoke, Sarah lingered near the coat stand, toying with the jacket she didn’t need to re-enter the balmy midsummer evening. The quiet conversation ended with a fist bump for Erik and a quick but tight hug for Abby.

He turned, expectant, the mischievous streak she had heard about but not fully encountered suddenly blazing in his eyes. Grabbing her hand as she passed, he pulled her in to kiss her cheek.

‘It was nice getting to know you.’ That voice, low and smooth in her ear, brought back memories filled with heat. ‘See you soon, Princess.’

Chapter 3

ALEX

505 | Arctic Monkeys

Post-shower, Alex collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh.

When Abby finally strong-armed him into dinner with her flatmate, he hadn’t been expectingher. If he’d known, he might have made time for it when she’d first started bugging him two months before.

Sarah.

There wasn’t much spare room in his overactive brain, but what little there was had been occupied since that night. Her confidence in walking up to a stranger and asking for a kiss. The way her body had moved against his on the dance floor, her perfect thighs squeezing around one of his. The give of her soft skin under his mouth and fingertips. He’d felt her moment of pause when he’d begun pushing her dress up, so he’d stopped to check she wanted it. Her snarky response had cemented her charm for him, but her breathyyesseconds later had almost ruined him. His favourite thing though? The bitten off little sounds she’d tried to hide as he made her come.

What had started as a petty display to make some guy—an ex?—jealous, had become solely about the two of them by the time she’d let him drag her to the bathroom, a moment of connection and pleasure between strangers.

And she had made it clear it was for the night. He’d paused for a moment after, bracing himself for the awkward conversation where he had to remind a poor girl that a quick fuck in a dingy bathroom was hardly the origin of a great love story. Even if her wide, dark eyes and full lips had made her utterly irresistible to him. Even if quick, messy sex with her on a surface that probably hadn’t been cleaned in months was the best he’d had in a long, long time. But he hadn’t needed to say anything. In contrast to his usual experiences,shehad dismissedhim, and his fascination had grown.

And then his hook-up had walked into his fucking house. Wearing imitation leather trousers that looked painted onto her generous thighs and a slightly sheer shirt that had left him remembering the taste of her skin on the swells of her breasts. But when she’d looked stricken at the sight of him, he’d assumed that—for whatever reason—she wanted to keep their prior meeting a secret. The relief on her face when he’d pretended not to know her was unmistakable. Despite revealing himself to her at the end of the evening, he could keep up the pretence if that was what she wanted.

But he assumed they’d be seeing each other plenty in the short buildup to the wedding. And if Sarah was open to a repeat, he wouldn’t say no.

Spending time with her had done little to tamp his interest. Definitely not once he’d seen how fucking talented she was.He pulled up the Instagram account she’d shown him. Clicked through to the website she’d linked. He immediately found the first piece that had stood out to him on her account—an abstract mass of colours and lines that scratched his brain into submission as he unravelled it, finding calm in the chaos.

And when he moved on to the commissions listing, he was astounded by her talent all over again. He’d meant what he said. It was a shame that her livelihood was coming from that, rather than the pieces she seemed more passionate about. But it was astonishing, the way she somehow managed to imbue even ridiculous paintings of pampered pets with a range of emotion.

Speaking of…

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