At the end of the night, while everyone is saying goodbye, milling between tables and chairs and raving about the food, Alex’s best man corralling everyone who’s going out with them tonight, Ren and I duck down a side hall that I think might technically be staff-only, a velvet curtain falling closed behind us.
“Is it insane that I missed you today?” I ask as he kisses me, his leg coming between mine.
“No,” he rasps, thumbs pressing into my hip bones. “I missed you too.”
“You know,” I say, something reckless riding up in me, from a night of touching under the table, or Stevie’s confession about Leo, or justRen, I don’t know. “You could just tell Alex you can’t come tonight. Take me home instead.”
Ren pulls his head away, body still flush against mine as he smirks. “You don’t think that would be too obvious? Stevie wouldn’t care you spent another night at my place?”
I pout, getting a laugh out of him. “Fair enough,” I say. I pat a hand to his chest. “You go out and have your fun.”
“Trust me,” he says, grip tightening as he leans down to kiss me again. “This is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
chapter twenty-eight
“I have to hand it to her,” Stevie says, elbows on the table as we watch Sasha and Alex on the dance floor, the chandelier light above casting a glow on the sheer sleeves of her dress, the last chorus of the song wrapping up. “This might be the only New Year’s Eve I’ve actually enjoyed.” She draws her fingers through the rose gold confetti scattered over the white tablecloths. Everything is sparkly, strands of tiny paper stars dripping down from the white- and champagne-colored balloons floating against the coffered ceiling. “She knows how to plan a wedding.”
“Maybe she can plan yours,” I say. “You are going to marry Leo, right?” She’s been on her phone again all night, was still on it last night when I woke up randomly to grab water.
She glowers at me, but before I can tease her more, there’s a hand on my shoulder, warm lips hovering close to my ear. “Will you dance with me?” Ren asks.
I look to where couples are rising from their tables as the first dance applause dies down, a Lord Huron song now coming through the speakers.
“Careful,” Stevie says wryly as I stand, my hand in Ren’s. “Everyone will think you’re dating.”
“Call Leo,”I say. “Sasha told you to invite him earlier.” As soon as Sasha heard Stevie was vaguely interested in anyone, even someone she’d met a mere forty-eight hours prior, she’d insisted he come to the wedding. It was a testament to how happy Sasha was this weekend that she would complicate her meticulous plans, even in this minor way.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Stevie says, getting up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to the bar.”
On the dance floor, I settle my wrists over Ren’s shoulders, his hands falling lower on my waist than usual.
“Careful,” I say, glancing around.
He slides his hands half an inch up. “What if I don’t want tobecareful, Joni,” he whispers, sending goose bumps along with it.
Our hips sway together, and I bite my lip as he again inches up.
“How about now?” he asks suggestively.
I slit my eyes at him, but can’t keep a straight face when his palms suddenly fly up to my shoulder blades, full middle-school dance height.
“Point made,” I say.
He lowers them to a respectable spot on my waist, leaves them there.
“So how do you propose we spend midnight?” I ask.
“Stairs, hallway, duck under a table,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of each. He smiles at my laugh. “Tell everyone we’re just so sad we don’t have anyone else to kiss that we decided to kiss each other as friends. Make it our origin story.”
“A man with a plan.”
“I just got you,” he says. “You think we’re going to miss our first New Year’s together because our families don’t know yet?”
His words expand in my chest.
Twenty minutes before midnight, I leave Ren with Thad and Gemi and run to the bathroom. My cheeks are flushed, limbs loose. I feel it—a contentedness flooding through me that would have unnerved me before, some worry that being so happy meant it could be taken away. But it’s a beautiful wedding, I’m surrounded by the people I love, and Ren and I are going to figure this out.
In the bathroom, a woman with bleached blond hair is sitting on the counter, scrubbing at one side of her mouth. “Fuckinglip liner,” she slurs as I wash my hands.
