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I looked around at the mingling guests, my eyes settling for a moment on the tiered wedding cake in the corner which, if the rumors were true, contained three different flavors of cake. At the front of the dance floor, a shaggy-haired man in a rented tuxedo played "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton on his guitar. "Can you imagine getting married?" I asked, the distinct smell of roses drifting past my nose.
"Only to you."
My eyes flicked back to Quinn as soon as he answered.
"What?" he asked, sensing my surprise. "Is that the wrong answer?"
"There's no right or wrong answer,” I said. “There's only the truth."
"I figured."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and replayed his words in my mind. He hadn't even flinched, hadn't skipped a beat.
"You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah, of course, I just—"
"What?"
I took a deep breath and mustered the nerve to meet his eyes again. "I feel the same."
"Of course, you do," he said. "I'm a real catch."
My lips fell apart.
"You couldn't say no to me if you wanted to."
"I most certainly could."
He laughed. "Not buying it."
"Try me."
A mischievous twinkle lit up his eyes. "Come upstairs with me."
I turned an ear towards him.
"Right now. It's urgent."
"Urgent?"
He nodded. "I forgot something in the room."
My brow furrowed. "What did you forget?"
"Our privacy."
"They didn't even cut the cake yet."
"I promise you won't miss it," he said. "There’ll be plenty of icing where we're going."
I blushed at his filth. "We can't just leave."
"It's not a legit wedding unless one of the bridesmaids sneaks off for some hanky panky."
I laughed. "Hanky panky?!"
"What do you say?" he asked, pulling me against his need. "Will you come upstairs with me?"
My lashes batted at him as anticipation warmed my cheeks.
"You can say no."
"No," I said, my heart taking flight in my chest. "I can’t."
