Page 5 of Something Borrowed
“Bry, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line as she tries to pull away from me. Excitement races through me. She’s not going to make this easy and a fucked-up part of me is looking forward to the chase. It’ll only make the inevitable even more earth shattering when it happens.
“Too little, too late. That boat sailed a long time ago.” I allow her to go when she stands back and pulls one of the glasses from my hand. “I shouldn’t drink this. I’m working.”
“I think you’re done for the night.”
“I’m not done until the wedding is over and the guests have left happy.”
“They all seemed pretty happy in there when I left.”
She must decide I’m right because she places the glass to her lips and tips the golden liquid into her mouth. My eyes zero in on the movement of her slender neck and my mouth waters to find out if she tastes as sweet as she always did.
“I made the biggest mistake of my life that day, Bryony. I spent too much time listening to friends and not enough listening to my own heart.”
“I’m not interested.”
“But you are. Your body tenses every time I talk, your eyes darken with desire every time you look at me. And if I get too close—” I take a step towards her. “—your breathing increases as your heart pounds in your chest. Just like mine.” Reaching down, I take her hand in mine and press it to my chest. “You feel that?” She swallows and tries to break our connection, but I follow her movement. “You can’t run from me, Bryony. I’ll always find you.”
Bryony
My heart pounds in my chest, to the point I start to feel a little lightheaded. I want to believe it’s the champagne I just downed in one gulp and not the man standing before me, staring into my eyes like he knows every single one of my secrets.
That was once true. The months we had together were the best of my life. Yes, we were sneaking around, desperately trying not to get caught, but it was so exciting. We were young and foolish, but it wasn’t until he left that I truly realized that what we had was real. It wasn’t just a silly teenage fling with someone I couldn’t have. Freddie owned my heart completely, and when he left, he may as well have taken it with him because it’s been useless ever since.
“I’m not doing this,” I say, pulling my hand away as if touching him physically hurts. “You made your choice over ten years ago and I was forced to deal with it.”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Dealt with it.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, I spin away from him. Being under his intense stare has my traitorous body reacting in ways it shouldn’t. I need to get away from him. The sooner, the better.
“Don’t do that,” Freddie snaps, spinning me so my lower back is pressed against the railing.
“Do what?” I seethe. His breath mingles with mine where he’s so close.
“Close yourself off from me. I see you, Bryony. I see exactly what you want. What you need.”
His lips brush against mine with the final few words and my stomach somersaults as need so strong hits me, I’m afraid my knees might buckle.
“Freddie.” It’s meant to be a warning but comes out like a breathy moan.
He takes it as the cue he needs, his fingers threading into my hair and his lips pressing against mine. Lightly at first, but then his tongue traces the seam of my lips and they open for him. His tongue sweeps across mine as his all too familiar taste explodes in my mouth.
My eyes flutter shut. The rose in my hand falls to the ground as I lift my arms and twist my fingers in his shirt, dragging him closer to me. His solid body presses my soft curves into the metal at my back, his erection obvious against my stomach.
He explores every inch of my mouth, familiarizing himself with me before biting on my lip and sending a bolt of lust straight to my core.
“I missed you so fucking much,” Freddie moans, kissing across my jawline.
Those few words are enough to bring reality crashing down on me. I slam my fists against his chest and push with everything I have. “No.”
“No?” His chest is heaving and his eyes are almost black when he pulls back and looks at me.
“I can’t do this, Freddie. I can’t. Especially not here. Not this weekend. It’s Mac’s wedding. If he were to—”
