Page 27 of Shared by my Ex’s Best Friends (Twisted Desires #2)

Chapter twenty-seven

MAYA

W eddings are supposed to be about the couple.

That’s what I keep repeating to myself like a mantra as I crouch in front of Danielle, smoothing the edge of her veil and tucking a loose strand of hair back into place.

My hands tremble just slightly beneath the delicate lace, but I tell myself it’s the adrenaline of the moment. The excitement. The beauty of it all.

Not the ache in my chest or the war I’m fighting behind my smile.

All around us, there’s movement—choreographed chaos. Photographers darting around with lenses as long as my arm, calling out, “Tilt your chin this way, perfect, now look at each other—yes, just like that.”

Bridesmaids whisper-laugh as they reapply lip gloss and straighten their dresses. Within the whirlwind, Danielle’s a vision.

Radiant. Nervous. Ready.

I step back and look at her, catching my breath. The soft blush satin of her gown catches the light, the embroidered bodice glittering like dew in the morning sun.

Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and when she sees her reflection, she presses a hand to her chest and exhales like she’s been holding it in all day.

“He’s going to lose it when he sees you,” I murmur, lips curving.

She turns toward me, cheeks flushed with emotion, and reaches for my hand. “Thank you, Maya. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and this wedding. I know it hasn’t been easy…”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” I assure her with a smile. “Are you ready?”

She nods. “Yes. Let’s do this.”

We all head out to line up and get ready for the processional.

The music begins—strings and piano—and I help lift the hem of her gown as we glide out of the room and down the narrow hallway leading to the garden conservatory. As we round the corner, the full view hits me, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.

It’s radiant.

Sunlight streams through the glass-paneled ceiling,, washing over rows of white folding chairs filled with expectant faces.

Wildflowers twist and climb up the wooden arch at the front, their soft petals trembling in the breeze that slips through the open doors.

The scent of lavender and roses clings to everything.

Then the guests turn.

A collective hush ripples across the room.

I step aside as she begins her walk down the aisle, bouquet trembling slightly in her grip. She’s crying already, and so is her groom—waiting at the end, love written in every line of his face.

Even I get choked up.

I take my place off to the side, near the arch, doing my best not to be obvious as I swipe at the corner of my eye. But even with the vows unfolding in front of me, I feel them —the gravitational pull of the three men behind the rows of family and friends.

Liam has his eyes locked on me. Steady. Still. His suit is tailored within an inch of its life, and he wears it like it’s molded to him.

He offers the smallest of nods when our eyes meet, and it takes everything in me not to move toward him.

Ethan is watching me too. His gaze is thoughtful, intense, like he’s taking me in as part of the ceremony—like I’m more than just a witness to this.

And Jake… God help me, Jake is leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His tie is loosened just enough to make him look like he stepped out of a daydream, and when he winks at me—just once—my breath catches.

But this isn’t about us.

The officiant begins, his voice warm and rich, layered with emotion as he welcomes everyone.

“Marriage,” he says, “is a promise. Not just a ceremony, but a quiet revolution—two people choosing each other, over and over, every day.”

The groom goes first, voice thick with emotion as he holds Danielle’s hands.

“I’ve loved you since that night we stayed up until sunrise, talking about everything and nothing. You’re my home. My safe place. And I promise to stand beside you through all of it—chaos, calm, and every breath between.”

I hear a sniff behind me. Probably the mother of the bride, but I’m too teary-eyed to turn around.

Then Danielle speaks, her voice shaking.

“I never believed in soulmates until you. You taught me how to trust love again. I promise to love you with my whole heart—and to keep choosing you, every day, for the rest of our lives.”

I press my lips together, feeling the tremble in my chest. The weight of those words hits too close to home.

The rings are exchanged, their hands shaking so badly the best man has to help. The kiss that follows is soft, long enough to draw cheers and clapping but short enough to still feel sacred.

And just like that—it’s done.

Everyone rises to their feet, the applause thunderous beneath the soaring glass ceiling. I wipe a tear from my cheek and slip out the side exit into the garden, needing air, needing space, needing…

Them. All of them.

Liam is sitting on a curved stone bench beneath the old willow, his tie loosened and jacket unbuttoned, forearms resting on his knees. The dappled sunlight filters through the long, swaying branches, throwing shadows over him like something from a dream.

I move without thinking, weaving past flowerbeds and laughing guests. When I reach him, I press my hand to his chest, rooting myself in the steady rhythm beneath it.

“Hey,” I say, smiling softly.

His hand comes up to cover mine, holding it there against his heart. “Hey yourself.”

His eyes search mine, and we just look at each other for a bit too long. It’s quiet, but heavy with things we can’t say here. Not yet.

“You clean up well,” I tease, running my fingers along the edge of his loosened collar.

“You look…” He exhales slowly. “Devastating.”

My cheeks flush, and I duck my head for a moment before his knuckles lift my chin.

“Don’t forget to save me a dance,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple, barely a whisper of contact.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

We linger for a second before I step back, heart thrumming like a drum line under my ribs.

***

The reception blooms into life the moment the sun dips low enough to make the conservatory feel like something enchanted. The golden hour spills through the tall glass walls, setting the tables aglow and creating halos around everyone’s heads as laughter swells and champagne flutes clink.

String lights flicker on overhead, soft and twinkling, like stars have descended just for the occasion.

I slip back inside, the hum of conversation wrapping around me like a shawl.

The long banquet-style tables are already bustling—guests chatting over passed dishes and wine being poured into stemmed glasses.

A low jazz version of “At Last” plays through the speakers, and the couple is lost in each other near the head table, cheeks pressed together, swaying slowly.

It’s beautiful.

It’s overwhelming.

And somehow, I’m holding it all together.

I head toward the bar, needing a glass of something cold just to settle my nerves, but halfway there, a familiar hand brushes mine.

My breath catches. I’m not hiding anymore. Not from them. Not from myself.

I turn, and Jake is suddenly beside me.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he murmurs, his grin lazy, his voice soft.

He’s discarded his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, and looks like sin and salvation wrapped in linen. A few curls have fallen across his forehead, and there’s a little mischief in his eyes that makes my stomach churn

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance in these shoes,” I say, nodding toward his loafers.

“I lied.” He offers his hand. “Come with me.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just threads his fingers through mine and tugs me onto the dance floor.

The music shifts to something slow and dreamy. “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Figures.

Jake pulls me close, one hand sliding to my waist, the other holding mine loosely as he rocks us gently to the rhythm. He doesn’t say anything at first, and I’m grateful. It lets me feel. Just feel.

The way he smells—clean and warm, like cedar and something faintly smoky.

The way his hand fits so perfectly against my lower back.

The way he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room.

“This is dangerous,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “I want it, but being here…what if people judge us?”

He hums. “Who cares what other people think?”

My chest aches. “I know I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard to pretend there won’t be consequences.”

“Whatever those are, we’ll face them together…you’re not alone in this, remember,” he says, and that undoes me more than anything else could.

Before I can answer, someone taps my shoulder gently.

Ethan.

He’s watching me carefully, like he doesn’t want to interrupt but needs to be near me all the same.

“May I cut in?”

Jake lets out a small mock sigh but kisses my temple before stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

Ethan slides his arm around my waist, holding me differently—firmer, more secure, like he’s not just swaying with me but holding me up.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I think I’m happy.”

He smiles. “Good.”

We don’t talk much as the song plays. Ethan’s always been the quietest of the three, but his silence never feels empty. It feels full—like there’s a thousand things he could say but trusts me to understand without them.

When the song ends, he lifts my hand to his lips and brushes a soft kiss across my knuckles.

“You make it look easy,” he says.

“What?”

“Balancing all of us.”

I glance up at him, startled, but he’s already turning away, nodding subtly toward the edge of the dance floor.

Liam stands near one of the pillars, half in shadow, nursing a glass of whiskey and watching me like he’s been waiting all night for his turn.

I make my way to him slowly, heart fluttering like a ribbon caught in the breeze.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t danced with me yet,” I say, stepping close.

He sets his glass down without breaking eye contact. “I was waiting for the moment to feel right.”

“And now?”

He offers me his hand. “Now it’s perfect.”

Liam pulls me in close, not tentative, not unsure—just there. Solid and sure in a way that makes my spine melt and I rest my head rest against his shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” I murmur.

He sways us in time with the soft pulse of the music. “Watching you. Trying to commit this to memory.”

I lift my head. “Why?”

His eyes meet mine, and there’s something fierce in them. “Because you’re the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life right now.”

My throat goes dry I have no words for that.

Just a hand on his chest.

A heart pounding in sync with mine.

When the music changes again—faster now, a playful swing tune—he spins me out and lets me go, smiling, giving me the freedom to float back into the swirl of the crowd.

But as I turn, I see them—Jake, Ethan, and Liam—all watching me.

Not possessively.

Not jealously.

Just present. Mine.

And all at once, I know: This night will end. The world will intrude again.

There are questions we haven’t answered. Conversations we haven’t had. Lines we haven’t drawn.

But tonight?

Tonight, I’m theirs.

And they’re mine.