Page 105 of Shifted Desire

By the time the photographer is done, I’m ready to sit down, my feet aching from the impractical heels I wore because I knew Nathan would like them. We’re herded into the banquet hall, where I’m beset by various relatives and friends of the family. I’m about five seconds away from having a meltdown, and I glance over at Max to see how he’s faring with all the attention.

My heart squeezes when I find him laughing, a brilliant smile lighting him up from the inside as he squeezes his bride’s hip and chats with a group of her friends. Mona beams back at him, equally smitten, and their love for each other is so palpable that even a shitty empath like me can feel it buzzing in the air around them and seeping into everyone in their radius.

A hand rests between my shoulder blades, and I jolt, almost knocking the champagne flute out of Nathan’s hand. “Shit, sorry!”

His smile is unbothered, and his eyes drink me in hungrily, dipping down to my cleavage for a beat too long. I grab the champagne out of his hand and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that,” I hiss between my teeth.

Nathan tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me! Everyone was talking about how you were staring during the ceremony. Claire and Maggie barely bought my booger excuse, but now that Wes is on booger patrol they’re going to notice if you keep watching me.”

A beat passes where he doesn’t reply, and I think he’s going to argue, but then he snorts. “Booger patrol?”

“Don’t laugh, this is serious!”

Nathan sobers, but I can tell from his lip twitching that he’s fighting a smile. “You’re right. I’ll be more careful.” He steps closer and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You’re just so fucking beautiful it’s hard not to stare,” he murmurs.

Goosebumps rise all over my skin and heat pools between my thighs. I glance around, making sure no one is watching us, then pretend to fix his tie. “Behave. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you stare all you want later.”

His feral grin in response does nothing to help our case of being platonic dates, and I step back, blushing. “We'd better go take a seat before they serve dinner,” I say far too loudly, as if other people are listening in on us.

Nathan nods and follows me over to the bridal party/close relatives table, where Max, Mom, Dad, Maggie, and Mona’s mother and brother are already gathered. Maggie’s husband is sitting at the kid’s table with their chaos gremlins, and Claire is at a quiet table in a corner with her partners since she gets overstimulated at big events and even more so now that she’s pregnant. Wesley and his girlfriend Ariana are over chatting at the monster support group and partners table, and Blair and Grace are currently helping Mona change into a less cumbersome reception dress. Which means there’s not nearly enough of a buffer right now to draw my parents’ attention from me and Nathan.

Dad beams at us as we approach, gesturing for Nathan to sit beside him at the long, rectangular table. I glance at the name placards at the place setting, relieved to see that Max has seated Grace and Blair as a buffer between us and my parents, and put Mona’s family on their other side.

“Sorry, Dad, our seats are down here. Don’t worry, Nathan will come hang out with you after we eat, since he’ll be sick of me by then.”

Dad chuckles. “Nonsense! You both get along great at work. Besides, who could get sick of my peanut buttercup?”

I flush at the ridiculous pet name, not liking any acknowledgement of being his kid when his best friend and the man I’m in love with is standing right next to me. “Dad, I’m almost forty. You can stop calling me that.”

Nathan gives me a lopsided smile. “Why? It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute,” I huff.

Mom’s gaze darts between us, and my stomach flips, wondering if she’s trying to read our emotions. She stays out of my business, but maybe tonight is the night she decides to check in. Maybe I’m acting too weird. Shit, am I acting weird?

We’re saved from further scrutiny when Mona appears next to Max and everyone oohs and ahhs over how stunning she looks in the glittering white and pale green cocktail dress. I make a break for our seats, slumping down with a relieved groan.

Nathan leans over, nudging me. “Hang in there, peanut⁠—”

“If you call me that, I’m never fucking you again,” I hiss back.

“Noted.” He laughs, the sound deep and delighted, and his hand lands on my thigh under the table, hot and possessive.

Suddenly I don’t care what he calls me. All I want to do is spread my thighs and let him relieve the ache pulsing there, even though I absolutely cannot be thinking about that right now.

Wesley and Ariana slide into their chairs across from us, and Nathan extends a hand to Wes as I introduce them, fighting a losing battle against my arousal when Nathan squeezes my thigh again.

“Nice to meet the man on booger patrol.” Nathan says, and Wes lets out a loud guffaw.

“Anytime. Happy to help.”

“Booger patrol?” Ariana asks, her nose scrunching in confusion.

“Sam had a huge one during the ceremony and I missed it, so I said I’d keep an eye out.”

“Oh! If it helps, I didn’t notice it,” Ariana says sweetly.