Page 80 of Mess With Me

“I know it’s supposed to be bad luck to see me before the wedding,” Sasha says, coming to a stop in front of us, “but this isn’t exactly conventional.”

She thrusts a hand out to my dad. “Mr. Kelly—Dad—it’s so nice to see you again.”

Dad?Something new tightens around my chest. Panic, maybe? The feeling that everything is too real when it’s not real at all.

Dad’s eyes go red-rimmed. “Welcome to the family, Sasha. I know if my son picked you, then you’re the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“Jesus, Dad,” I say, almost a plea.

Sasha meets my eyes, her expression mirroring what I feel, but only for a flash. “Well, he has been known to be right from time to time,” she says, recovering quickly. Then she reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Hello.”

She smells so good it fucking hurts. I grasp her around the waist.

A voice tells me Dad’s watching—I should pretend this is real.

Except I don’t need to pretend this feels good. She fits against me like she was meant to be there. That tightening increases. Itispanic.

I can’t move. I just splay my hands against her back, breathing her in. “Sasha,” I say, my voice gruff.

“Yeah?” Her fingers dance along the back of my neck, and I have to fight not to react to the delicious feeling of it.

We’ve never hugged before, not unless you count that time in the restaurant when she practically jumped on me to get away from Creelman.

“Last chance to back out,” I say, hardly able to believe the words are coming out of my mouth. My chest rages hot at the thought of Creelman, and I’m giving her the option to not be as protected as possible against him.

I don’t care. Right now, I’m prepared to drop everything. To go to Siberia and live in a fucking yurt, so long as it’s with Sasha.

“I don’t want out,” she whispers.

The grin that spreads across my face is enough to rival my little brother’s, and he gets paid to smile.

“I’m…uh…I’ll meet you two inside,” Dad says.

I’d completely forgotten he was there, lost in the feeling of Sasha against me.

I let go abruptly, only to see the back of Dad’s head as he disappears around the corner.

“He’s looking a bit like Chester right now,” I say.

Sasha laughs. “With a few more teeth.” Then, as if remembering, she says, “Hey, can I see the rings you bought?”

I keep my face neutral, fishing the biggest band out first.

“Basic. I like it.”

“I don’t do frills.”

“I’m all the frill you need, right?”

I almost say yes.

“What about mine?”

“You’ll be wearing it in a minute.”

“I know. I just want to see it.”

“It’s not special. I just got it this morning.”

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