The bachelorette party arrived much faster than I'd anticipated. I spent an entire week planning only for it. I oversaw the venue set-up, talked to bartenders, waiters, caterers, even local liquor distributors. I interviewed and watched the drag queen hired for the event—and loved them—and handed out checks to secure time-slots and schedule deliveries and decorate.

We postponed the wedding preparations to accommodate for the amount of energy I'd need to direct towards this event alone.

It'd be spectacular, over-the-top, and unforgettable; Estelle's words, echoed by Axel. He'd spare no expense for the double bachelorette party and wanted everything to be perfect.

The rooftop club we'd reserved for the night was exquisite. Part speak-easy, part hook-up space, with low lighting in some spots, and flaring neons in others. Heart-shaped booths occupied corners, private balconies reached out to show the skyline, and they'd constructed a high-tech DJ area with massive speakers and a sleek dancefloor that looked like dancing on glass.

I'd never been there, never even heard of this location until Axel sent me the coordinates the week before. When I showed up, my jaw dropped, and every time I turned around, I noticed a new detail. From the emerald-colored walls to the deep wood flooring to the fun-themed bathrooms, the light-up counters and barstools, and the extensive seating—perfect for a bunch of chicks to party in celebration of a wedding.

Not only women, of course—a few of the bridesmaids were bridesmen, without forgetting an enby—but for the most part, it'd be a very estrogen-filled event.

Among those other invited genders? Axel. I hadn't seen him since he swung by my apartment to ravish me, what felt like forever ago. He'd texted, he'd emailed, but without a hint of the affection he'd expressed while we lay in bed. As if I'd imagined it all, and in fairness...that was for the best.

No matter what he said, I wouldn't hold on to any hope regarding a relationship between us. The wedding would happen soon, but once it was over, I had no guarantee Axel would still be interested in me. Maybe he thrived on the thrill, the risk; maybe he liked the forbidden aspect of it all, and without it, he wouldn't crave me as much.

Worst of all—maybe I craved it, and I would lose interest.

But as I watched him enter the nightclub from across the room, fifteen minutes before the beginning of the party, I knew that was impossible. I would never lose interest.

He was gorgeous. Stunning. A vision in a beige suit, with a burgundy shirt underneath, hair brushed back, a bit of dark ginger scruff over his sturdy jaw. He didn't see me, standing in the corner going over my last-minute checklist; and I didn't want him to see me. It'd be best if I blended in, disappeared for the night. I was only there to coordinate, after all.

The lights lowered over him like a halo, and I pressed myself against the wall, wishing to be invisible.

He was my boss. More my boss than Brent, at the moment; his money paid me, he gave the instructions, he oversaw my schedule.

Lusting over him grew more and more dangerous. And lusting over him here, in public, was much too risky.

Guests poured in before I could melt to the floor and forget my purpose. If he had seen me, he'd be too busy greeting everyone, and I could continue my job without interruption.

The guest list was exclusive, but extensive. It didn't take long for the place to load up with people in sparkly dresses, heels so high they made me dizzy, and bedazzling jewelry to show off their wealth.

I paled in comparison, with my lightly shimmering black dress and my modest shoes meant for comfort. But I didn't want to be seen tonight; especially not by Axel, Estelle, or Olivia.

I didn't want to be seen by anyone.

Olivia had arrived. I smelled the remnants of her cotton candy cologne, but I did everything I could to ensure we wouldn't bump into one another. She'd stopped hounding me with texts, thank goodness, but that didn't mean she'd relent and let me be.

When Olivia Preston wanted something, she got it.

I joined the crowd for the drag queen performance, cheering and laughing and singing along, taking pride in the fact that I'd hired this person, I'd vetted them, I'd decided they were the perfect fit for this party.

The DJ played the right music, the drinks were bubbly and fruity, and the finger-foods a delicious hit.

I stood back, watching the evening play out. I wished Chi had come—they were out of town for a family emergency—to see it. To see this. To see how I'd succeeded in putting something together on my own. At last.

I always thought I was meant to organize weddings, and nothing else. The flowers, the guest-lists; the rolls and rolls of lace and satin, the extensive menu-planning. But this wasn't a wedding. More like the bash of the century, and I could tell it was a success with how much everyone laughed, danced, and indulged in the goodies.

Brent would have no reason to berate me for this. And Axel couldn't take credit, even if he wanted to, because I'd set this up. I'd had little time, too. One week to travel between the venue, the caterers, the liquor distributors, Estelle's place, my place, and various other side-stops. One week to draw up contracts and send pictures to Estelle and Mollie and to email exquisite e-vites and gather all the RSVPs.

Compared to Violet's wedding, which I'd planned, but hadn't quite executed, this was something I could be proud of, for sure.

Hopefully, I'd be able to say the same about the wedding itself.

Violet was here, too. She'd come without Reece and had a ball dancing with friends near the DJ booth. Married life suited her well—she'd calmed down, less exuberant, more focused on her career, from what I understood. She and Estelle spent a few sweet moments hugging and chatting, and I admired them and their sisterly bond with a smile.

Estelle caught me, but instead of appearing angry that I'd been spying on her time with her sister, she lifted her glass to me with a stern gaze.

A gaze that said I remember what we talked about, and I appreciate you being cautious with my brother.

I hadn't yet decided if I trusted her with our secret, but I did trust Axel when he said she wouldn't divulge a word to Brent. At least, I tried to.

I lost sight of Axel, sometime after the drag queen's performance. I presumed he'd gone to thank them for their awesome act and their professionalism, but then he showed up on the stage set up in the front of the room and offered a toast.

His shirt was more unbuttoned than I recalled, and there was a loose, relaxed vibe about him. Which was surprising, considering how he loathed being in the limelight.

"I hate public speaking," he said, wincing, while everyone below laughed. I stayed as far from the area as possible, ensuring I was cloaked in shadows, and he wouldn't spot me across the room. "But," he directed his glass towards Estelle and Mollie, at the bottom of the dais, "for these two, I'll say something brief."

His eyes sparkled, and the redness splotched over his cheeks didn't show shyness, but inebriation. Axel had been drinking, enjoying himself. Without me to distract him, he was actually having a good time.

All the more reason to stay hidden and not ruin his night with our forbidden attraction.

His speech was, as promised, brief, though tinted with emotion and happiness. He then flurried off towards the bar, drowned by the crowd, out of view.

Next up to toast the brides came some of the bridesmaids; delightful, eccentric individuals who had nothing but wonderful things to say. The maids-of-honor were tipsy, but sweet, a breath of fresh air in contrast to the chaos of Violet's bridal party. These people loved Estelle and Mollie and were there for them.

As everyone partied away, I nursed my second cup of rosé, feeling out of place. I had to stay until the end, to oversee breaking down the decor once everyone left.

Without Chi to keep me company on the sidelines, I was...lonely. Neons beamed over me, music thumped in my ears, a salty cracker taste lingered on my tongue, and I forced a smile.

It was a fantastic night...for all the other guests.

I didn't matter. I was the planner, and no one needed to pay me any heed. They'd shake my hand if they felt the need to, congratulate me on a great celebration. But otherwise, no one had any clue who I was.

This anonymity should have satisfied me, and yet...a part of me wanted to be noticed. And not only by Axel.

When I witnessed a few couples on the dancefloor getting steamy and heavy, drunkenly lustful, my discomfort intensified. I wanted that, too; their ability to dance and smother each other in kisses without having to hide. I envied their openness, their frivolity. Sure, I could go find anyone in the room—anyone who wasn't Axel or Olivia—and grind sensually with them, fulfill my desire gauge; but it wouldn't be the same.

It wouldn't be with him.

I needed a breather from these rich, intoxicated, horny women who frolicked without caring who saw.

So I refilled my glass and headed for one of the private balconies that overlooked downtown Los Angeles. A little breeze, a few breaths, and I'd be ready to return to the party and double check on the supplies, the food, and verify that employees were doing their jobs.

I pushed through the beaded curtain that separated from outside, bursting out onto a small terrace lined with lamps and stone benches. High bushes created secluded areas on either side of me, meant for intimate moments.

Across from me was the immaculate view from behind a glass railing. A perfect spot to gather my thoughts, convince myself that I was overthinking things.

Of course I mattered. I'd receive praise for tonight, I knew it. I was doing my job, following orders, and ensuring the brides had a wedding they'd never forget.

As I took a sip and a few steps further onto the patio, I froze at the sound of low, satisfying moans, coming from my left. I wondered at first if they were echoes of music, but as I slowly moved forward, I realized they came from out here.

Moans of...sex, it sounded like. Those breathy sounds one made when being aroused, being toyed with.

And they originated from one of the secluded hedge areas.

I should have stopped myself right there. Should have backed off, averted my eyes, gone back inside. But damn me, my curiosity was too high, and the liquor in my blood made me bold.

I wanted to know who was out here and not on the dance-floor. I wanted to know who was hiding to do...well, whatever it was they were doing. Because whatever it was...sounded enticing as fuck.

The moans were sexy, feminine. Alluring to my ears, drawing me closer. Intrigued. They reminded me of an erotic movie, where most of the sexual acts were blurred, but the actresses convinced us they were truly in the midst of sensual pleasure.

Gosh, it was so invasive, so rude, but I couldn't help it. Spending an evening ogling Axel from afar and dodging Olivia at every turn was exhausting. Out here, away from the crowd, I could unwind, right? Like these two. Like—

I covered my mouth, muffling my gasp as the moaning women came into view. I knew them, and well.

They were partially hidden, but their moving around made them visible from the door through which I'd just come.

Estelle and Mollie?

Their dresses gave them away. Like at the engagement party, they wore gold and silver, Mollie's with spaghetti straps, Estelle's strapless. Estelle's colored hair was unleashed and curly, and her fingers tore into Mollie's normally put-together coiffure.

I hadn't seen them slip outside, nor had I recognized their voices, at first. Then again, moans weren't easy to detect and recognize, were they? Unless one was familiar with them.

The angle at which I stood afforded me some cover, but hardly. I couldn't move, still in surprise, but I didn't think they'd see me unless they leaned forward or wanted to see me.

From the way they made out, glued to one another, I doubted they would.

Mollie was pressed against the hedge, her lips locked with Estelle's. Estelle perched between Mollie's legs, and the skirt of Mollie's dress was pulled up, one of her legs wrapped around Estelle's waist, her heel squeezing against her ass. They were deep into their kissing, tongues rolling delicately, hands wandering, exploring. No private parts were exposed, but I imagined these two were close to stripping and fucking right then and there.

It was awfully intrusive, but also...hot. Really hot.

It was no secret I thought Estelle to be attractive, and Mollie was quite the catch herself. To see them in action, lavishing attention on one another, was delicious. It was tempting. Were I not so exposed with the door behind me, I'd have found a corner to watch them and touched myself while they got busy.

Estelle cupped Mollie's breast, her thumb flicking over Mollie's covered nipple. Mollie let out a small groan and pulled Estelle closer to her with her leg. "Fuck," she whispered against Estelle's lips, loud enough for me to hear.

They still didn't detect me there, ogling. I supposed they'd had so much to drink they didn't care who caught them; and that only aroused me further.

Warmth began to pool in my underwear. I kept watching, if anything to capture the image to later reproduce once I was home. Once I was alone, in bed, and could touch myself to sleep.

When Estelle slipped her hand under Mollie's top, taking out her breast, my heart stopped. I saw the nipple, dark and delicate and so hardened. Estelle angled forward to stick it into her mouth. Mollie's eyes were closed, and she arched backwards to give her fiancée better access.

"Fuck," I mouthed, now knowing I'd gone too far. My cheeks heated, and the moisture in my underwear was excessive. Intriguing as this was, I had to get away.

I took tiny steps backward, cringing as my heels hit the pavement. I begged my shoes to make no sound, to not reveal me. I doubted they'd hear anything, busy as they were, but that was all I needed, for the brides to find me peeping at them. That would get me fired.

Estelle moved on to suckle on Mollie's other tit, and a shudder racked through me. A mix of guilt and intense arousal prevented me from backing off or moving forward.

I was so close, so close to the doorway, when I heard the beads slide open, signifying someone was coming out.

Shit.

Busted. And not only me, but Estelle and Mollie, too.

I knew it'd be Axel. He always discovered me in the worst situations, and somehow, we hadn't bumped into each other all night. There was no way I'd been lucky enough to keep out of range. We were tethered, always found each other. No doubt he was about to scold me for watching his sister two seconds away from having sex.

I didn't turn around, praying that maybe it wasn't him. Or maybe he hadn't seen me, though I was right there, in the middle of the terrace, not isolated like Estelle and Mollie. They were far enough away to not have detected anyone joining them. Whoever the newcomer was might not even view them, with me standing in the way.

But I still saw them. Estelle was thrusting against Mollie now, the top part of her dress lowered, outlines of her breasts visible flanking her sexy figure.

A hand touched my back, then wrapped around my front, and I froze. Ice cruised down my spine.

It was Axel; it had to be. No one else would do that, touch me like that, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress, insistent. No one else would—

"Hmm," came a voice that was most definitely not Axel's, slithering into my ear, "kind of hot, isn't it?"

I knew that voice all too well. I was too startled to move, to protest, as the hand pressed hard to my stomach, below my belly button. A smaller hand, but still as forceful. And the fingers—nails painted a dark brown—began a slow slither towards my center.

That hand, those fingers, were Olivia's.

☼☼☼