She touches my shoulder, her gaze holds an understanding rather than pity. But that’s Sophie—empathetic to a fault.
“It’s rare, but I’ll tell you this… My girl right there,” she says, pointing out Flick in the crowd. “She deserves the best and Nate has proven he’s it for her.”
While she’s staring at Flick, I watch her face as it lights up with her words. She’s right. Today isn’t meant to be melancholy. It’s about celebrating my best friend and his wife—enough of this feeling sorry for myself bullshit.
“You look lovely, by the way. I never had a chance to tell you earlier, but you do. You’re…beautiful.”
She tries to hide her smile and tugs on her earlobe before smoothing out the invisible creases of her dress. A flush creeps up over her face, and I think it might be my favourite colour on her.
“It was all Felicity. She has good taste.” She draws in her lower lip between her teeth.
“Don’t be so modest, you’re gorgeous.” I can’t stop myself.
She chews the inside of her cheek, and her fingers absentmindedly pick at her nail varnish. I noticed that habit when I first met her…that and her nail colour kind of always represents her mood. Today it’s a light pastel, almost iridescent.
I take her hands in mine and still her. She glances up, clearing her throat to speak. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.”
And before I can answer, she pulls her hands softly from mine, turns, and drifts away in a sea of people.
“Smooth,” Nate whispers in my ear, nudging me in the ribs.
“Shut up, man,” I joke, turning to him.
“You know, the two of you getting together wouldn’t be the worst idea. You could be as happy as me, man.”
I shake my head. Here he goes again. “Easy, tiger. How about you concentrate on your new wife instead of playing matchmaker. Oh, look, photo time.” I point out to the photographer.
He slaps me on my back and jogs over to his new bride, but not before glancing back to me with a smug grin on his face. He ushers over the photographer, and who knows what the heck he’s up to now.
The photographer claps his hands together with a loud echo. “Okay, can we please have the maid of honour and the best man?”
I turn in a circle until I see Sophie approaching, and, meeting her halfway, I glance back to an enthusiastic photographer.
“I warn you, Nate’s in wind-up mode about us again.”
She shrugs it off. “When isn’t he? Hey…we could always reverse the tables?”
“Okay, you’ve piqued my interest, what do you have in mind?” Sophie loves a prank as much as I do. I lean in, and she raises on her tiptoes and cups her hand over my ear, her hot breath waking up all my senses.
“A kiss should stop him in his tracks. Besides, it will teach them both a lesson for always going on at us.”
I laugh and swallow hard. The thought of us kissing… Even if it’s to wind up Nate, I know I can’t say no. “I’m game if you are. And it’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” I say with a wink.
She shoves my shoulder when the photographer appears in my peripheral. Reaching out, I grab her around the waist and pull her around towards me. She lets out a surprised gasp, and I glance up to see the photographer positioned in front of us.
“Act natural… That’s it… Lovely,” he says, his bohemian hair sticking up in every direction.
I pause, waiting for him to say cheese, but it doesn’t come. I stare down to Soph and see the rise and fall of her chest.
I cup the back of her neck and place my palm on the small of her back. My fingertips graze her warm, bare skin. And then I dip her backwards as I’ve seen in the old movies—the ones my mum used to love so much.
It’s like gravity is pulling me closer, and I’m powerless to stop it. When my lips meet hers, I give her neck a gentle squeeze, and a puff of air causes her lips to part. And then we’re kissing. I think a groan makes its way up my throat, but I can’t be sure because I’m so immersed in the moment. A throaty moan escapes her, and my body comes alive. I deepen the kiss.
It’s only when the faint sound of cheers and hollers comes into focus—followed by a deep wolf whistle—that I break the kiss. Reluctant to pull away, I rest my forehead on hers for a beat before I bring her upright. I clear my throat and try to hide the fact I’m now somewhat restricted in the lower region.
“Okay then,” she says, her face as flushed as I feel, her breathing heavy. My arm is still around her waist and I feel it when she tenses beside me. No longer making eye contact with me.
I’m a dick. A grade-A fucking dick. I used the pull between us to take that kiss further when I’m pretty sure she just meant a chaste kiss for the camera. But it’s like at that moment, I couldn’t ignore the chemistry that’s been brewing just beneath the surface.
I pull her gently into me and place my finger under her chin, tilting her face towards me. She peeks up; my stomach does flips. “Soph, I got carried away, I’m sorry. I took it too far,” I say so only she can hear.
She sucks in a breath, pulls her shoulders back, and smiles. Her armour’s in place—a barrier she erects.
“Charlie, chill. What’s a kiss between friends?”
And that’s when its dawns on me.
I want to be more than that.
She pats my arse playfully, and there I go getting aroused again. Down, boy.
“So, we’re good?”
She nods with her chin in the air, angling her face in the direction of the photographer. My arm is still wrapped securely around her waist, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me how some of the guys here have been checking her out. Let them think we’re together.
My heart picks up speed; she appears as calm and collected as ever. If it weren’t for the way she kissed me back, I’d believe she was unaffected. But deep down, I know better.
The rest of the wedding party file around us for the group photos.
With an aching jaw from the smiling, we head back to the gazebo, where I grab a glass of champagne, downing it in one gulp before taking my place at the head table.
I glance down towards Soph, who is fussing over Maddie. I can’t stop thinking about her lips on mine when I should be thinking about the best man’s speech I’m about to give. I’m keeping it short, even though I’ve struggled with how to word it.
Sod it, here goes nothing.
I stand, clearing my throat, and tap my knife against the water glass. I’ve been to my fair share to know it never fared well for the champagne flute.
“Hello, everyone! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Charlie, Nate’s best man. I met him on my first day at secondary school right after I moved here from Australia. Even back then, he was a ladies’ man—always had a girl following him around—but for those of us fortunate enough to know the real Nate, we know there’s only ever been one girl for him… And she is sitting right beside him today.
He knows better than anyone how I feel about weddings and marriage in general. So, believe me when I say I’ve seen my fair share of failed marriages. I’m in no way trying to downplay what they have. I know when he asked her to be his wife, he meant it. And honestly, I can’t think of any two people more deserving of one another.