But she didn’t, she just kept leading him toward the closet. He was so tall, it was like walking one of her Aunt Nancy’s stallions around the stable. Whoever was on stage was playing Armin Van Buuren and the beat vibrated through her like a second pulse. She opened the closet door, half expecting someone to already be in there, to stop her. But it was empty aside from a clutch of long-abandoned raincoats. She looked over her shoulder and Sloan William’s expression caught her off-guard. He looked nervous.

Eden hesitated. He was a professional athlete and much older than her. If he thought this was a bad idea, it probably was. She opened her mouth to ask if they should go back to the green room, but his hands were on her waist and gently steering her into the closet. She went willingly, and as she did, she caught a wave of his scent.

A bright, appleish aroma like summertime and cider. She inhaled, relaxing into his touch. Whatever else, he smelled safe. He closed the door and darkness swung over them like a velvet curtain. His scent grew stronger. She could hear him breathing, hard and fast, and the sound tipped her into a memory. She and Douglas Kent on Cheryl’s bed at fourteen, staring at each other while their friends partied around them. They wanted to kiss but there was just too much pressure. Brightness pierced her chest and she found herself smiling. “Are we going to play high school?”

His hand brushed her side, sending sparks skittering across her skin. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the fantasy. She liked him, he liked her, and away from the busyness of a high school party, they were going to touch each other.  He gripped her wedding dress, tugging the skirt high. Cheap satin ran up Eden’s thighs and she shuddered. He paused and she gripped his hand. “I like it, I promise.”

A soft laugh. “I’m going to kiss you. That okay?”

His voice was lovely. Low and warm and full of confidence.

“I… aren’t we supposed to be touching?”

A rough hand cupped her jaw, soft as if he was holding a butterfly. “I’ve never touched a girl without kissing her. And I want to kiss you.”

She swallowed. She wasn’t the biggest fan of kissing. It was often wet, and even more often incompetent. It made her think of germs and steel cages banging together. She ran her tongue over her lip, collecting traces of energy drink. “Aren’t we doing my fantasy?”

The hand on her dress drew tighter, lifting her hem to just below her underwear. “We will, right after I kiss you, Eden Jade.”