It was the first impulsive thing I’d done in years, and boy was it a doozy.

“Danika,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse but soft.

I sighed heavily, pulling back.  The spell was broken.

I couldn’t look him in the eye and looking down was a no go, so I looked over his shoulder as I spoke.  “Can you put my dress back on?  We need to get back.  We’re both in the wedding party, so I’m sure we’ll be missed.”

His hands moved to start righting my gown and still he didn’t pull out.  I would have tried to shift away, but I was afraid it would just lead to another indiscretion.

“Danika,” he said again, his voice very soft and very sad.

God, it was flooring how just listening to that deep voice of his could captivate me.  For just the sound of his voice alone, I could have stayed glued to that spot indefinitely.

I shook the thought off, calling myself a fool.

“I need a minute alone, if you don’t mind.  I’m going to go clean up.”

He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head away.  “My dress, please.”  My voice wasn’t sharp, in fact, it was gentle, but I saw him flinch out of the corner of my eye.

How did he always do that?  Make me want to take back whatever I’d said that may have hurt him, even after all this time.

Reason number one thousand why I needed to stay away from him.

We both gasped in a harsh breath as he dragged himself out of me.  I clenched at him involuntarily as he pulled, and that seemed to drag it out, into an act of pure torture.  His girth assured that he hit every nerve ending on his way out.

I cursed.

He pulled my dress back up onto my arms, then over my head, then my shoulders.  His hands were gently caressing as he eased every inch of it back in place.

I didn’t look at him.

He still had his hips close, still between my thighs, even as he smoothed my dress over my back.

I felt him nudge back against my sex, seeking entrance again.

I don’t know how, but I managed to shake my head.  We would not be going for another round, addictive as it might be.

I had to get off the crazy train now, not go for another loop.

I needed just a moment, to go be by myself and think.  The sooner the better.

 He stepped back and helped me down.  He let me go to tuck himself back into his pants, and I fled into the house.

The place had a ton of bathrooms set throughout the sprawling mansion, but I went up to my appointed guest suite and used my private bath to clean up, then combed my hair, and touched up my makeup.

I stared at my dazed expression for a solid five minutes, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

Was this some new sickness, or had the old one persisted, in spite of everything?

Or was this the result of mishandling the situation altogether?

How were we back to square one six years later, within just a few conversations?

Had that happened because we’d never learned to cope with sharing the same space?  Had never having any contact at all just made us more susceptible to a screw up of epic proportions?

Had we only made ourselves more sensitive to the other’s presence, when what we’d needed was to be desensitized?

Was it just possible that there was some middle ground here?  Some sort of closure to the romantic part of our relationship that I’d never pursued?

I had always thought of Tristan in terms of all or nothing, but clearly, that hadn’t worked.  That failure was currently staring me in the face, and perhaps more mortifying, dripping down my leg.

I could admit that cutting someone that had become such an undeniably significant part of me so completely out of my life had been damaging to me.

It had stunted me.  Stunted my happiness.  Stunted my growth.

That was a fact I’d accepted long ago, in a resigned sort of way, seeing it as a necessary evil.

But what if it wasn’t necessary?  What if it was only detrimental?

Spending some rare time in his company made me realize something new.

I’d been so focused on the bad of him, of us, the bad of all that had happened that I’d forgotten the good.

I’d lived the bad, existed with it every waking hour of every day and some nights, in my dreams, as well.

Why shouldn’t I get a bit of the good?

What if, just maybe, I needed it?

What if it would help me close that chapter of my life?

Being with him was out of the question.  A long-term romantic relationship was absolutely unthinkable.  But a friendship?  Hadn’t I moved on enough to at least give myself that small bit of comfort?

Didn’t I deserve it?


I was expecting it.  I wasn’t even a little bit surprised when Frankie made a point of cornering me.

She and I weren’t the type of friends that fought.  We gave each other shit on a regular basis, but that little scene earlier was as good as a full-on confrontation for us.

I’d known she was going to feel bad about it and quickly try to make it better.

The reception was still in full swing when I returned to the party.  I’d have been surprised if it didn’t go until morning.

I made my way quietly to my table, very acutely aware of the fact that, though I’d cleaned up as well as I could in a hurry, I hadn’t showered.  I was planning to slip away and do that just as soon as I thought it was politely possible.

Frankie joined within a minute of me sitting down.  She was alone.  Almost everyone else from the wedding party was dancing.  Estella was currently going to town as the dancing meat in a Stephan and Javier sandwich.

“You remember that I set you two up, right?” I asked her as I met her very serious eyes.  “You owe me.  I brought that hot thing into your life.”

She shot her longtime girlfriend a fond glance.  “I know it.”  Her face crumpled slightly, not a breakdown, not tears, just screwed up a bit, as though she were in pain.  She looked away.  “You know I love you, right?”

It was my turn to look away.  We were close friends, but not the mushy kind.  Things like this were rarely said between us.  “I do.  I love you too.  You’re one of my closest friends, and I know that your heart is always in the right place.”

“Forgive me?” Her voice had gotten very, very quiet.  “I overstepped back there.  I know it.  It’s just so hard for me to see him suffer any more, and no one can hurt him like you can.  But I overreacted.  I was a dick, and I’m sorry.”

“Frankie, I’m well aware of the position we’ve put you in, and how hard it’s been for you, but you’ve got to stop interfering, and you’ve got to stop thinking it’s your job to protect him or even me.  We are adults, and we don’t need a buffer, much as I might like one, may even have depended on it in the past.  He and I…we need to sort our messes out ourselves.”

“Of course.  And for the record, I never took his side.  Or yours.  You know I’m always just trying to help whichever one of you is hurting the most.”

“I know.  We’re both lucky to have you.”

I considered the matter settled, and apparently so did she as she didn’t mention it again.  We sat there for a long time, just watching the revelry.

There were a lot of people in the colossal reception tent, but I could still tell that there was no sign of Tristan.  He hadn’t returned yet, and I found that odd.  I was sure he’d gone and cleaned up, but he couldn’t possibly need more time than I had, even if he’d taken the time to get in an actual shower, and to change.

I was so involved with this thought process that it took me a moment to realize who else was so glaringly missing.  “Did James and Bianca ditch out on the rest of their own reception, already?”

Frankie laughed.  “I would bet a lot of money that they’re off in the forest somewhere having a quickie.  James is a kinky fuck, but they’ll be back.”

We continued to watch the dancing crowd.  “Who is that Marnie and Judith are assaulting on the dance floor?”

Frankie squinted, then started laughing.  “That’s Jackie’s dad.  Marnie is making it clap for him.  I think Jackie was right.  They’re going to give that poor man a heart attack.  And get a load of Lana and Akira.  They’re making out like teenagers.  God, that guy is huge.”

“He’s hot,” I added.

“So is Lana.  And this is the first time I’ve met her brother, Camden, but he’s smokin’.  This tent is chock-full of hot people.”

“True.  Some good dancers too.”

Finally, I saw Tristan re-enter the tent.  He stopped at the entrance, scanned the crowd, and zeroed in on me.  The second his eyes touched on me, he started striding towards our table.

“Did you two, uh, work out whatever that was you two were having?  Was it a fight?”

I couldn’t quite hide my wince.  “Yeah, I guess we worked it out.”

“So you finally had a good talk?  You both disappeared for a while.”

“I guess.  You know how we are.  It’s complicated.”

“Complicated.  Now there’s an understatement of epic fucking proportions.”

I had to laugh.  She wasn’t wrong.

And that’s how Tristan found us as he approached, laughing and relaxed.

The relaxed part went a bit south as he sat right next to me, and I instinctively started to tense up.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Frankie told us with a grin.  “I have some freaking to do on that dance floor.”

“Who the hell calls it freaking?” I called to her back, but she just kept walking.

It wasn’t easy, but I made myself turn and look him in the eye.

I’d likely be mortified in the morning over what we’d done, but I thought the entire thing was too new for my shocked mind to react appropriately.