Pete Hudson was stunned. Not in a soul-shattering way, but in a way that left his mind as clean as a fresh sheet at the touch of the soft lips pressed against his.
As a man already staring down the barrel of thirty-one, there were few things capable of confounding him, and a random kiss from a stranger shouldn't have been one of them. Yet, it was.
Pete was bewildered. He couldn't fully comprehend it, but he was definitely being kissed—and by someone he didn't know at all.
His first instinct should have been to push her away and demand answers for this brazen display of craziness, but instead, he found himself surprisingly taken by the feel of her lips.
Strawberries, mint... and more strawberries, he noted silently.
That was what she tasted of: strawberries and mint, along with something else he couldn't quite place. Was it peach? his mind mused.
There was no way to tell if the flavors were from her lip gloss or a drink she'd had, but he found himself wanting to explore further—to see what else lingered there. But before he could savor the moment, she was gone.
Pete's senses snapped back into place. He lifted his gaze to her face. Dark brown eyes, matching the color of her hair, glimmered with fear and shock as she peered back at him.
He caught the blooming red blush of embarrassment crawling up her cheeks before her honey-brown hair fell forward like a curtain to hide them.
He watched her lips tremble. "I... I—" she stuttered.
The men around him whistled knowingly, but Pete's attention was solely focused on the frantic movement of her lips.
"I... I'm sorry," she muttered with a note of urgency. She turned and dashed off, sprinting in the opposite direction.
Pete's gaze followed her.
"What the hell was that?" someone asked incredulously. All eyes turned to Pete, who was still trailing her disappearing silhouette.
He snapped back and glanced toward the hedges where he had first spotted her hiding with a group of girls. They were now dispersing with mischievous giggles and amused laughter. He had seen them earlier, gesturing commands with their hands—orders she had seemed reluctant and flustered to obey.
He recalled the frantic darting of her eyes and her subtle silent scream for help. He had wondered what it was all about; now, he finally knew.
It was one of those games they played—one of those stupid stunts that showed just how reckless and impish they could be. He knew this because one of those girls was to be his cousin's bride by morning. Given what he knew of her and her clique, he had expected trouble, but he hadn't expected it to take this form.
His eyes shifted back to the path the stranger had taken, and his lips twitched.
The flick of a lighter sounded beside him. "Are you not going after her?" Christopher asked, lighting a cigarette. He looked up at Pete. "There was something there. You don't want to chase it?"
"Not everyone is like you, Christopher. I don't chase desire," Pete replied pointedly, raising his glass for a sip.
Christopher gave a careless shrug and took a drag. "Maybe it's desire chasing you, Hudson. You don't want to miss out."
Miss out? Pete questioned internally. He looked at the empty path and sighed. He was certain there was nothing to be missed and nothing worth chasing. He admitted the encounter had sparked a reaction in him unlike any before, but he wasn't going to pursue it—unless there was a reason to, and he doubted there would be.
...
Lina gasped for air as she scrambled back to the room she shared with Sharon. She slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it for support, her heart racing and her breath heavy.
What in the devil's name just happened? she asked herself. Did I... did I just kiss someone? A stranger?
Lina's hand rose to her lips and she let out a small cry of shock.
Sharon!
This was all Sharon's fault. She was the architect of this madness and her "ingenious" idea to be spontaneous. Sharon had dragged her there and involved her in the game, despite knowing Lina had little to no interest in the "fun and frivolities" Sharon desired for her.
It wasn't that there wasn't a secret longing for it in her heart, but Lina had learned that while the occasional bit of fun provided a high, a steady diet of it robbed life of its magic. Furthermore, she simply didn't have the time to chase such things. She had responsibilities, and that "high" would cost a price she wasn't willing to pay.
Lina resisted the urge to punch herself in the gut. She still couldn't believe it had actually happened—that she had kissed a random man under the pressure of people she barely knew.
Why in God's name did I let them pressure me? she wondered.
She squeezed her eyes shut to push away the memory, but the image of his defined lips and silvery-gray eyes flashed through her mind. She snapped them open in a hurry.
She pressed her lips together, and the faint, sweet taste of him touched her tongue.
Whiskey, cream, and coffee? What was he drinking? her mind wandered. Her palate was well-trained; she could even taste a small tinge of chocolate buried beneath the other flavors.
Her mind buzzed, trying to make sense of the drink, but she quickly shut down the thought. There was no use thinking about it; it would only remind her of a foolishness she wanted to forget.
She hoped she would never see him again. She had no idea how she'd face him. But what were the chances of avoiding him when they were both attending the same wedding tomorrow?
Zero.
She groaned in frustration. "Lina, you're stupid! So stupid!" she cursed.