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Samuel is going to kiss me, and I'm going to let him.
The sound of a throat clearing, too loud to be natural, shocks me back to reality. I can still feel the heat of Sam's breath on my lips; we were that close to kissing. I turn my head and see Chase staring daggers at us. The blush staining my cheeks deepens as if I've been caught doing something I shouldn't.
"May I cut in?" Chase asks. He doesn't wait for a reply before stepping between Sam and me, blocking my date from view and all but dragging me away from him.
"That was rude," I say, pursing my lips up at Chase.
"Good," he grunts as another slow song pours out of the speakers.
Taylor Swift's "Mary's Song" starts to play, telling the story of a little girl and a little boy who grow up together and fall in love. I listened to it all the time as a teenager. It's horribly ironic considering my situation, and I want to think it's a coincidence until I see my mother nonchalantly strolling away from the deejay. I'm surprised she didn't request my anthem, "You Belong With Me."
"What are you doing, Chase?" I sigh, looking up at his face. His actions and reactions are hot and cold, making me crazy and confused.
"I'm dancing with you."
Conceding the point to him, for now, I lay my head on his chest and let myself be swept away by the song's words. I can't stop myself from inhaling his familiar scent and letting the feeling of being in his arms wash over me. His hands are locked around my waist, and he pulls me closer until our torsos are perfectly aligned. We just fit. He's much taller than I am, and where a taller woman would have laid her head on his shoulder, I'm perfectly content to press my ear to his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It thumps against my cheek, strong yet erratic, as if being around me makes his heart beat faster. The thought sends a thrill racing through me.
"Why are you dancing with me, Chase?" I ask, rephrasing my first question.
"Can't the best man dance with the groom's sister, who also happens to be his friend?" His answer is a prime example of a deflection tactic.
"Is that what I am? Your friend?"
"I don't know what you are, Lily," Chase grinds out like he's finally losing some of his carefully crafted composure. "I know you looked so damned beautiful walking down that aisle today that I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and have you all to myself. I know I wanted to rip my eyes out every time I saw you looking at that jackass you call a date. You looked at him like you used to look at me. I didn't just want to cut in and steal you away from him. I wanted to break both his hands for daring to touch you and rearrange his face for trying to kiss you right in front of me."
"You were jealous," I state, which only succeeds in making Chase more irritated.
"Of course, I was jealous, Lily. What did you think? That I would enjoy seeing another man's hands on you?"
"I don't know, Chase. I've made it abundantly clear that I want more than friendship from you, and I feel like all I'm doing is embarrassing myself. I’m still just your best friend's pathetic little sister, who you're trying to let down easy."
"That's not what I'm doing," Chase growls, pulling me tight again.
"Then what?" I pull back, exasperated and fucking confused. "What do you want from me, Chase? I'm not going to wait around forever for you to decide I'm good enough for you. Especially when I have a genuinely nice guy who wants to spend time with me and actually makes me feel like a woman, not just Luke's little sister."
"It's me that's not good enough for you, Lily," Chase forces the words out. "I'm too fucked up for you."
"We're all fucked up, Chase." I grab his face and force him to look me in the eyes. I see his anguish, and I want to make it go away. "I'm the only person who gets to choose who's good enough for me. So, for once in your life, be honest with me about this. What do you want from me?" For a long minute, he just stares at me, taking in my features like he's trying to memorize this moment.
"Fuck me," he groans. "I want you, Lily. I tried so damn hard not to, but I want you so fucking badly that it scares me."
Blood rushes through my ears, making me wonder if I'm hearing Chase right. But, when hands cup my face, and his lips come crashing down on mine in a claiming kiss, all I can do is stand up straight and kiss him back.
Our first kiss was all frantic lips and pulsing need, but this one's different. The need, want, and desire are still there. But after the initial crush of his lips against mine, it turns gentler. Chase's kiss is soft, smooth, and sweet. It's the alter-ego of the rough, passionate explosion of a kiss we shared in December, and I want more of it. I want all his kisses.
Knowing we're drawing the stares of other guests doesn't stop me from kissing Chase back with all the pent-up and frustrated feelings I've held back for years. When his tongue gently runs along the seams of my lips, I don't even think. I open for him and pull his tongue into my mouth, tasking him long and deep.
Somewhere in my mind, I know we have a full audience. I sense a murmur of interest ripple through the dance floor, but I ignore it. This kiss has been a decade in the making, and it's for Chase and me alone.
"Luke!" I hear Holly's voice hiss from somewhere in the periphery. "Don't you dare!"
"You fucking asshole," Luke roars as he rips us apart, promptly planting a fist in Chase's face.
He lands on the floor with a thud and doesn't get up. One and done.
"Luke!" I shriek. "What the fuck?" I lean down and pull Chase into a sitting position, but he's like a dead weight. "Can someone get me some ice?" One of the servers dashes off as a crowd gathers around us.
"Luke! I swear to god, if you take one more step, we are not consummating this marriage tonight!" Holly is beside me in an instant. We hook arms under Chase's armpits and drag him onto a chair.
