Okay, if not a date, then it was something way too close to it.

Fidgeting in my seat next to Miles, I had spent the entirety of the ceremony trying to ignore everything that came with our proximity. The looks, the quiet laughs, and even how close his hand had gotten to brushing mine when his mother said I do. It was all etched in my mind.

It didn't help that I also had to focus on not noticing how good he looked in a suit. I was not okay.

The newlyweds were currently waltzing on the makeshift dance floor after their big entrance. Their fingers were intertwined, and they wore matching goofy grins on their faces as the rest of us clapped.

Miles's mom didn't look a minute over forty. Her eyes still sparkled with the childish playfulness I read on Miles's face. She had the bounce of a middle-schooler in her step as she made her way to the table where Miles and I sat.

"You," she said with an accusing scowl on her face, as her hand left her husband's to try to tame Miles's hair. "I had to get married to get a hold of you."

A sheepish expression took over his features as he pried her hand away from the messy strands of his hair. "Did you try just calling first?"

"Oh, I know only dramatic events get your attention away from your books." She fell in the seat next to him and bumped into the table.

The panicked blue and white mixed bouquet in the middle threatened to spill out of the tiny, fancy Pilsner vase they were in. My dress fit right in with the decor.

"Speaking of books, Alec told me you're hesitating."

Her features looked more like Alec's than Miles's. She had the same sizzling gray eyes that could have been intimidating on any other day when she wasn't wearing a princess-like gown.

"What is he, your spy?"

"Since you wouldn't be," she said without missing a beat, as though they could catch glimpses of each other's thoughts before talking.

A small chuckle escaped my lips at their exchange, and his mom turned to me, tilting her head as though she was trying to put a name to my face.

"Don't worry, you don't know her," Miles cut in before she could say anything. "Allison is the one who stole your vase. And it's been years. You should really let that go."

The bride laughed at what I assumed was an inside joke between them.

"This is my mom, Rose. And this is Kelly. She's, uh," he trailed off, glancing at me for a brief second, "she's Alec's intern, and she was dying to meet you."

I tried to hide the smile that crept across my lips when I remembered the conversation he had quoted, but Rose gave me a knowing grin that meant something I probably didn't want to know.

Her eyes scanned her son's for a brief moment as they carried on a silent interaction I couldn't follow.

Then she shifted to look at me again, a smile replacing the stern look she had reserved for Miles. "Oh, that's wonderful! It's lovely to meet you. Alec really needed the help." She gave a pointed look to her son that just made him laugh. "This is Liam." She turned around and noticed that her husband had wandered away sometime during the conversation and now lingered around the wedding cake.

"It's nice to meet you," I said though I couldn't hear my voice over the loud chatter that filled the reception venue.

"You've got yourself a crowd." Miles looked around at the hundreds of guests that had scattered around the room to different tables.

It might have been much easier to create comfortable breathing space for everyone outside, but then the sun would have been around to crash Rose's wedding.

"I had a hard time cutting back on the guest list."

"I can see that. I'm surprised you didn't invite Dad," he teased with a shadow of a smile on his lips.

Guilt settled on Rose's face as she stared at something behind Miles and me.

"I did," she said, "he politely declined. Something about not wanting to create confusion or whatever."

"That sounds like him."

I heard the sharp sound of heels against the floor before I could see their owner. But when I did, my contentment with my dress vanished in smoke.

A red dress hugged her body and created a striking contrast with her black hair—an elegant picture neatly cut right out of a magazine. The dress itself testified that its own simplistic features were not what drew eyes to her; she was the one making the dress look good. And it looked painfully effortless.

"Sorry, I'm late. I was—" Then her eyes landed on Miles, and the rest of the sentence didn't make it past her red lips.

Even without the heels, I had a feeling she'd still be towering over me.

"Miles," she said. The name was thoroughly scrubbed in honey, but the sweetness in her voice did not reach her eyes.

"Anna."

Though they only said each other's names, the one-worded greetings seemed to hold much more weight, as if a conversation continued beyond what my ears could hear. That or they simply didn't need more words.

Her fiery eyes sustained his gaze and didn't let go until he turned away at the sound of Rose's voice.

"I'm glad you made it." Rose's expression was still frozen in guilt, even after she accepted the congratulatory pats from the guests as they rushed past our table to theirs with food plates.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it. Thanks for the invite." Anna's words were linked to Rose's flushed cheeks as through puppet strings, as she avoided looking directly at her son.

By the time she turned to me, I had come up with a half-decent escape plan to run away before anyone could notice. There went my dreams.

"I don't think we've met," she said, curiosity visible on her face.

"We haven't. I'm Kelly." My voice came out much more confident than I felt, and my hand did not shake as I expected it to when I extended my hand.

Hers, accentuated with a thin gold bracelet, met mine without hesitation. "It's a pleasure."

I couldn't reconcile the goofy smile she shot Rose as she said, "Save me a dance," with the renewed fire in her gaze when she gave Miles a two-finger salute as she walked away.

"I'm going to get some food." The words came out blended together as she gathered the train of her dress to stand up. Before she could, her husband joined us again, bringing her a plate.

She began a conversation with him instead, as her plan B, to avoid Miles's eyes.

"She's a family friend," he said, even though I didn't ask, as he adjusted the cufflinks on his white dress shirt. Then, he added with a sigh, "We might have also dated a few times."

"You didn't need to tell me that," I told him, though I had already assumed as much.

"I did."

I racked my brain for something fitting to say that would make him feel better. "She seems sweet." It was the best I could do on such short notice.

"Don't be fooled. The red—" He paused and met my eyes for the first time since Anna came—"isn't just for show. She knows she's evil personified."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"Then her acting classes from hell are paying off."

I laughed, and it seemed to put him at ease as he recovered the teasing grin that she seemed to have crushed under her heels.

It was soon replaced by an earnest look when Rose stood to introduce the unconventional order of the toasts.

I watched Miles stand up, probably more nervous than he was, as I toyed with my fork, tossing my food around the plate.

"I had it all planned and memorized down to the last word—something about a perfect match and whatever," he started as his fingers ran through the rebel locks of hair that wouldn't stay put. "But seeing you two now, I can't help but think that you guys are the most unusual pairing ever. Mom, you're a riot. Silence ticks you off. And Liam... well, he rarely speaks more than four words at a time. But you two make each other happy, and I don't think we can really ask much else from anyone." A taunting smile found its home on his lips as he added, "And if nothing else, I'll get a twisted satisfaction out of watching you drive each other insane. That's the best part of marriage—enjoy it."

People laughed as they took a sip of their drinks, and the anxious tapping of my foot finally stopped as my breath returned to something close to normal.

Alec's toast followed Miles's. I recognized Olivia sitting by him. I grinned at the mental image of the hard work it probably took for him to invite her, in between flustered throat-clearings and way too many tie adjustments.

A five-year-old made the last toast, which consisted of staring at everyone else in the room and swaying on the seat she stood on, but everyone was awed.

By the time Rose had danced with her two sons and Liam had twirled his mom around the room, my hands were tingling from all the clapping.

Rose fell into her chair again, a moment later, breathing hard. "I can't feel my feet. Have you been dancing yet?" she asked, nodding to the dance floor where multiple couples danced. "It's not as fun to be the only tired one."

"Oh, no, I'm not much of a—"

Before I could finish my sentence, she was already waving Miles over to our table from where he was entertaining Hazel and her parents by the banquet tables.

When he got closer, she swatted at his arm. "Why haven't you asked this beautiful young lady to a dance yet?"

Blood sprinted to my ears when his gaze shifted to me, amusement coloring every word he said next, "Would you like to dance, Kelly?" He extended his left hand to me with a slight bow.

"We don't have to," I said as the foot-tapping resumed, "if you don't want to."

"I want to."

My hand slipped into his, and he led me to the dance floor as his mom cheered us on. His right hand rested on my waist, and I could feel it through the thin fabric of my dress.

The floor was much more slippery than it looked. I would consider it my greatest summer achievement if I survived one dance without landing on the floor at the mercy of everyone's high heels.

"Hi, stranger." A small smile toyed with the corners of his mouth as we danced off-beat to a pop ballad that I didn't recognize.

"I worked really hard on that toast, you know," I joked and allowed a grin to take over my face as I let him guide around the dance floor, focusing on not stepping on his toes. "I take my co-writing job very seriously."

"And it was a beautiful toast. I didn't think I could do it justice," he said as I shook my head at what he seemed to think was a save. "Speaking of beautiful," he said, and his breath brushed my ear when he leaned in, "That dress looks stunning on you."

I didn't want to find out what shade of red was now on display on my cheeks.

The tone of my voice didn't sound like the one I was used to when I replied, "You don't look so bad yourself."

He stole a twig from a centerpiece as we passed by one of the empty tables. Before I could question his action, he held it above his head in the space between us.

"Would you look at that?" he said, a mischievous glint lighting up his brown eyes. "I guess we have no choice now."

"It's summer." Rising on my tiptoes, I pulled his hand back down before anyone could see us. "And that's not even a mistletoe."

"We don't need a mistletoe." His hand on my waist drew me closer to him, and my breath hitched in my throat when his free hand brushed the side of my face.

It was a challenge to keep my face emotionless when my brain decided it was time to transform every nerve in my body into fireworks.

Detached, I tried to remind it. But it continued to do its own thing, responding to the warmth of his hands instead of my commands.

The distraction caused me to trip on his foot, and I nearly landed on the floor. As though he had predicted the fall, his arms kept me from losing balance. But I was now even closer to him, and I couldn't keep my eyes from glancing at his lips.

I wished he hadn't caught me. The impact could have jumpstarted my brain and given it the reminder it so badly needed that we didn't rely on fickle feelings or a certain person's smile and warmth.

"I need a drink," I told him, and he followed me to the banquet table, where I poured sour orange juice in a glass to stun my body back into obedience.

"Isn't she wonderful?" a girl addressed us, pointing to Anna dancing with a new partner after her dance with Rose. The impressive execution of the simple steps hinted at her skill level.

"Depends on who you ask, Pam," Miles said.

She dismissed his comment with a knowing smile. "I still remember the stunning performances she used to do during our ski trips. No wonder you wrote an entire book about her."

My cup froze inches from my lips as his line about abstract beauty replayed in my head with a whole new meaning as I watched Anna from across the room.

Unbothered, I remembered and stopped the spiral of thoughts forming in my head with a big, calming gulp of orange juice.

A/N: No... Of course not. I didn't google how to ask someone to dance because I had no clue how to write that scene.

Thanks for reading!

-D.T. ➷