And wonderful. When did I become an oaf that wants to keep my woman locked away so no one else gets a chance with her? She’s not even MY woman. She keeps making that fact painfully clear.
“Who do you think picked you?” Dopey Groomsman says to Alpha Groomsman. I’ve been sitting at this table on the edge of the dance floor with the other groomsmen for about five minutes—which is five minutes too long. Alex is the only groomsman that I can tolerate of this bunch, and he’s on the dance floor, swaying with his girlfriend.
“I don’t know, but I hope it’s Carly,” says Alpha Groomsman while wagging his eyebrows like a d-bag.
Macho Man pipes in now. “I think Katie drew mine, ‘cause she’s been all over me since pictures.” He does that thing where he leans back in his seat and rests his elbow over the back of the chair beside him so he can display his chest and arms to the other “weak links” of the group.
“Katie’s cute, though. You don’t want to leave with her?” asks Alpha.
I’ve only been half-listening. Most of me is too busy paying attention to June dancing like an adorable fool on the dance floor. But this new development in the conversation grabs my attention and makes me want to groan, because suddenly I realize why Carly has been stuck to me like Velcro all night.
She drew my name, and now I’m expected to take her home for a random hookup? No thanks. I’ve never been that kind of guy. I think most people assume because of my success that I’ve got a trail of women through my bed every night. They’d be wrong. One of the last serious talks I had with my mom was about respecting women and respecting myself. Maybe if she hadn’t died a few days after that, her speech would have gone through one ear and out the other like most teenage abstinence speeches tended to. But now, it sticks close to me and has been guiding me through relationships ever since. I’m not into random one-night stands, and I’m good with that.
Macho Man pulls my attention back. “Nah, I was hoping June would have picked my name. Dude, she’s ridiculously hot.”
My hands ball into fists on the table.
The guys all collectively laugh. “Yeah right! Take our word for it, June’s not leaving here with anyone.”
Suddenly, I’m invested in their conversation. “Why do they need to take your word for it?”
“‘Cause we’ve all tried and failed,” says Dopey.
My stomach drops. “All of you?”
They all nod, but Alpha speaks up. “You know her one-date rule, right? She’s a legend around here. We’ve all gone out with her thinking we’d be the one to get that sacred second date, but nope.” He loosens his tie and slips it off his neck. “She’s really strict. Barely managed to give her a kiss on the cheek after my date.”
“Ha! You lucky duck,” says Dopey. “She wouldn’t let me get my lips anywhere near her.”
I can’t decide if
this revelation is making me want to grit my teeth or sigh from relief. It seems June is pretty old-fashioned too. I like that. I don’t have to worry that every guy at this table has seen her without her clothes on. Just me.
“Worst part is, I’m not even allowed to hate her for milking me for a free meal. She told me up front it was only going to be one date and that she’d pay her own way.” He chuckles lightly. “And you know what? I had a good time with her. She’s funny and easygoing. I was actually hoping to get a second date.”
Yeah, I already know June’s funny and easygoing. I also know she’s a spitfire, looks beautiful when she first wakes up, has no qualms about holding a slippery fish so she can shove it in your locker, and has the most alluring pillowy lips I’ve ever seen. These are just a few of the reasons I’m crazy about her. These are the reasons why I stiffen when Carly pulls out the seat beside me and sits down.
“So, Ryan. We haven’t gotten to talk that much.” She leans in too close, settling her hand on my leg. “Wanna find somewhere more private where we can chat?”
I remove her hand from my leg. “No, thanks.” And don’t touch my leg.
Carly’s eyes widen like she’s never been turned down before in her life. She huffs out an offended sound and then gets up to walk away. Macho Man shoots up from his seat and goes after her. “Hey, Carly, wait up!”
Nice. He’ll be her pervy knight in shining armor.
I turn my eyes back to the dance floor. June gives a blinding smile and laughs as Stacy pretends to reel her in like a fish. Now she’s shopping for groceries and waxing the car. She’s one of a kind. And you know what? Not someone I’m going to let slip through my fingers again.
I stand up, pull my phone out of my pocket, and dial Nia as I round the table toward the dance floor.
“Hello?”
“Nia, you’re in charge a little longer. I’m not coming home Sunday.”
“Wait, what? Ryan wh—”
I end the call because I’m on the dance floor now, and June has just spotted me. A song with heavy bass is blaring over the speakers, and everyone is jumping and pumping their fists in the air like they are at a club. But when June spots me, she freezes—dead center of the floor, a statue among chaos. Music, lights, and people are swirling around her, and she keeps perfectly still.
I push through several people—including Jake and Evie, who I’m pretty sure will not enjoy seeing what I do next—and when I make it to June, her glittering eyes go wide. I don’t hesitate. I don’t slow down. I grab her tightly around the waist with one arm and cup her jaw with my other hand. She takes in a sharp breath, and I feel her heart hammering against my chest as I lean down and press my lips to hers. Commotion is happening all around us, but I don’t care or notice. I’ve been waiting seventeen years for this kiss, and all I can focus on now is how June feels pressed up against me, how her body melts into mine as my mouth explores hers. There’s not even the slightest bit of hesitation from her.