Page 21 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter twenty-one

ETHAN

T he rehearsal dinner is flawless.

At least on the surface.

The candles flicker in perfect rhythm, their light dancing along the linen-draped tables and catching in the crystal glasses. The wine flows without pause. Laughter hums across the room.

Danielle looks like she might actually survive this wedding without imploding. Jake is charming her parents like he’s been rehearsing for months and Liam’s corralling the groomsmen with his calm, capable presence.

And then there’s Maya.

She drifts into our little circle like she’s glowing, a fresh glass of champagne in hand and that effortless smile that makes people lean in without realizing they’ve moved. Her eyes skim the group—land on me for half a second longer than the others—and something low and hot stirs in my chest.

Jake straightens the second he sees her, his grin sharpening as he lifts his glass. “Finally. The guest of honor.”

“I thought that was Danielle?” Maya says, laughing as she takes a sip.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “You walked in and the energy shifted. Pretty sure everyone’s looking at you now.”

He’s not wrong. A few heads have turned. And Jake’s looking at her like he’d very much like to take her home.

I shift my weight, jaw tight.

Liam steps in smoothly, offering her his arm like a gentleman. “You holding up okay? Need food, water, a way out?”

Maya chuckles and loops her arm through his. “Are you offering to whisk me away from my own responsibilities?”

“If you ask nicely,” he says, his voice low.

Jake arches a brow. “Wow. You two flirting openly now? Should we step back and give you a moment?”

Maya’s cheeks flush, but her smile doesn’t waver. “I think this whole room is a moment.”

I watch her, tracking every micro-shift in her expression—the flick of her eyes to Jake, the way she leans slightly into Liam, the heat that lingers when her gaze brushes mine.

I clear my throat. “You look beautiful,” I say simply. “Just… wanted to say that.”

Maya’s breath catches. “Thank you.”

Jake huffs a soft laugh and raises his glass. “To the most stunning woman in the room. And the most dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” she echoes.

Jake’s grin widens. “You’ve got three grown men on edge and we’ve barely made it to the entrée.”

I cut him a look, but Maya just shakes her head, amused and flustered.

Liam, ever the diplomat, gently changes the subject—something about the wine list—but the energy lingers: tight, charged, unspoken. Each of us circling her in our own way, pretending we’re not measuring the distance between ourselves and each other.

Pretending we’re not all thinking the same thing.

Maya laughs softly, then excuses herself with a squeeze to Liam’s arm. “Be right back. Don’t drink all the champagne without me.”

She disappears into the crowd, weaving gracefully between tables, her dress catching the light just enough to make my chest ache.

God, Maya.

She doesn’t just move through the room—she owns it. Every glance, every smile feels deliberate. Effortless.

Smiling. Checking in. Making sure the night doesn’t unravel at the seams. Her hair’s twisted up with those soft pieces falling around her face, and her dress—simple, dark green, elegant—hugs her every curve.

She’s breathtaking.

She’s the only person in the room I can’t stop watching. From my quiet corner by the bar, I track her without even meaning to. Oh, well. I’m done pretending I’m not completely undone by her. She makes everyone feel important. Seen. Heard.

Even me.

I lift my glass to my lips. The whiskey’s warm and sharp against my tongue, but it doesn’t help with the ache building in my chest.

And that’s when I see him .

Nick.

He’s too close to her. Laughing too loud. I can tell he’s barely holding it together, and I’m afraid he’s going to do something he’ll regret.

There’s a whiskey in his hand and a storm behind his eyes, and the second I see Maya’s smile falter, I’m already moving.

She’s not laughing anymore. Her spine is straighter, her shoulders pulled tight. The look on her face—like she’s shrinking inward and trying not to show it—makes something violent twist in my stomach.

I’m not the only one who’s spotted them.

Jake slides in from the left, smooth and quiet, and plants himself between them with a smile that’s sharp enough to draw blood. His shoulder bumps into Nick’s with intention.

“Hey, buddy,” he says lightly, but there’s an edge under the charm. “Think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

Liam appears right behind him. He clamps a hand down on Nick’s shoulder—firm, final. “Let’s get some air.”

Nick protests, but it’s weak. More performative than sincere. He’s already being guided out, half-herded, half-hauled. Jake and Liam don’t look back once.

Maya stands frozen for a moment. Still smiling, but it’s all wrong—too thin, too polite. Her eyes follow the door, and then they flick to mine.

I’m beside her before I can think twice.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice low. Just for her.

She nods, but it’s the kind of nod people give when they’re trying not to break down in front of strangers. It’s automatic. A defense. Her gaze darts back to the door like she’s still on high alert, then returns to me with a soft exhale.

“Come on,” I say, dipping my head closer. “Let’s get out of here. Just for a minute.”

She doesn’t argue.

We slip out the side door and into the night.

The air is cooler than I expected—cool enough to raise goosebumps along my arms. The scent of roses drifts lazily from the garden beds, mingling with the earthy green of fresh-cut grass.

Crickets chirp somewhere in the darkness, and the low thump of music from inside is muffled behind the closed door.

We follow the stone path away from the glowing windows, toward the quieter edge of the venue grounds where ivy climbs up a crumbling brick wall and the string lights fade into shadows.

Maya wraps her arms around herself, shoulders still tense. “I’m fine,” she says, and I can hear the way her voice strains to make it sound true.

“I know,” I say gently, watching her. “But you don’t have to be.”

She stops walking and turns to face me. Her eyes find mine, shining in the soft silver of the moonlight. “You always do that.”

I blink. “Do what?”

“See through me.”

My throat tightens. I take a step close enough that I can see the way the wind brushes a few strands of hair across her cheek. “You never really try to hide. Not with me. That’s what makes it so easy.”

Her breath catches—a slight, beautiful hitch in her chest. She looks away for half a second, like she’s trying to hold something in.

“I didn’t like him disrespecting you,” I admit.

Her brows knit, and she tilts her head slightly as she looks back up at me.

“Nick,” I clarify. “Back there. I know I don’t have a right to be mad, but—” I look away, jaw tight. “It pissed me off. More than I expected.”

There’s a pause, and then her voice comes, quiet but firm. “I didn’t like it either.”

My eyes snap back to hers. Her tone isn’t defensive. It’s vulnerable. Honest.

She takes a slow step toward me. I can see the faint shimmer of gloss still clinging to her bottom lip, the delicate curve of her collarbone, the pulse fluttering beneath the skin of her neck.

My hand lifts before I can stop it, my thumb brushing that lip—the one I’ve been staring at all night.

But she’s already moving.

She leans in and her mouth finds mine—soft and searching, at first. Her lips are warm, pliant, tasting faintly of wine and something sweeter, something unmistakably her .

The tension that’s been quietly twisting between us snaps like a pulled wire, and the kiss deepens almost instantly. My hands slip to her waist, gripping gently but firmly as I pull her against me.

She clutches at the front of my shirt, anchoring herself to me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go. I kiss her harder, mouth parting to draw her in, savoring every flicker of contact, every shiver that travels down my spine when she sighs against me.

When she presses her body against mine, I back her slowly into the ivy-covered wall. The rough brick is cool beneath my palms, but her skin—where I touch her through the fabric of that dress—is fire.

Her thigh slides between mine, and I can feel the heat of her through the thin barrier of my pants. My breath comes rough against her cheek as she tilts her head, deepening the kiss even more, one hand finding its way to the back of my neck.

The air hums between us, electric and alive.

I press my forehead to hers, barely breaking the kiss. We’re breathing hard, our bodies flush and tangled in moonlight and want.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I whisper, voice ragged.

Maya closes her eyes for a second, then opens them again, wide and searching. “Me too.”

Something in me splinters—because this isn’t just heat. It’s not just lust. It’s the kind of connection that threads itself through your ribcage and settles in your bones.

I kiss her again. Slower this time.

“I should take you back inside,” I whisper, breaking the kiss, breathing unsteady.

“Probably,” she breathes, but her fingers don’t loosen their hold on me.

Instead, they move into the hair at the nape of my neck, soft and certain, and she pulls me into a third kiss. This one is different—less heat, more depth.

It’s slow. Lingering. A kind of kiss that carves its way beneath the skin and stays there. Sweet in a way that feels dangerous, because it carries weight.

Meaning. Promise.

I feel all of it.

When I finally pull away, my voice is hoarse. “I’m not just in this for tonight, Maya.”

Her lips are still parted, eyes glassy under the moonlight. “I know,” she whispers, her voice as fragile as the breeze tugging at the leaves overhead. “That’s what scares me.”

My heart stutters. I reach up and brush her hair behind her ear, letting my fingers trail down the curve of her jaw, forcing myself to slow down even though everything in me wants to hold on tighter.

“Me too,” I admit.

I’ve been in love before, but never like this.

Not with someone who lights up every room and still somehow sees me in a crowd. Not with someone who breaks my walls with a single look and makes me want to be better just by standing beside her.

We stay like that—quiet, still, caught in the hush of something new. Something fragile and bold all at once.

Her head leans against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. I feel her heartbeat against mine.

Finally, she shifts, pulling back enough to glance up at me with a small, rueful smile. “We really should go inside.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, but my thumb grazes her cheek again before I let her go. “We probably look suspicious.”

She snorts. “Jake probably already made a bet about it.”

“Liam’s going to try not to look smug and completely fail.”

“And Danielle’s definitely going to give me that look. You know, the I told you so, but also, be careful one.”

I smile at her. “Let them look. Let them all look.”

She stares at me for a second, a flicker of something wild and real passing through her eyes. Then she straightens her dress, smooths her hair with a deep breath, and nods.

We walk back up the path together, side by side, our hands brushing, though I’m fighting the urge to tangle our fingers together as we walk back into the party.