Chapter Two

SLOANE

My heart was beating in my ears, loud enough to compete with the bass vibrating through the floor. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turned white, while my friends cheered like fucking lunatics.

"Go on, Sloane! Do it!" Tessa yelled, shoving my shoulder.

"Look at her, she's freezing up," Lila laughed, taking another sip of her drink. "I know she will chicken out."

That did it. The tequila in my veins flared up, mixing with a sudden, vicious wave of frustration.

 Chicken out? Me? I had spent my entire life being the good girl, doing exactly what everyone expected, and where had it gotten me? Trapped. Signed, sealed, and delivered to a billionaire who looked at me like a nice piece of property.

"I am not chickening out," I snapped, my voice sounding way braver than I actually felt.

I turned around, forcing my blurry eyes to scan the crowded VIP section. The lights flashed, blinding me for a second, but then the crowd seemed to part.

And there he was.

He was sitting alone in a dark leather booth, a little higher up than the rest of the club. He was tall—even sitting down, you could tell he had those broad shoulders that could easily block out the rest of the world.

He had a glass of amber liquid resting loosely in his hand, and his dark eyes were locked completely on me. When he realized I was staring back, he didn't look away. Instead, a lazy, wicked smirk spread across his face, and he slowly lifted his glass in a silent challenge.

He has been watching me. He knows exactly what is happening.

"Oh my god," Cassidy gasped behind me. "Sloane, look at him. He is a literal ten."

"Go get him, bridezilla," Maren cheered.

The cage doors in my mind slammed wide open. Screw New York. Screw the wedding. Right then, I just wanted to burn something down.

I took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of the painted-on red dress, and walked straight toward him. My legs were definitely wobbly, the heels making the floor feel like it was tilting, but I kept my eyes on his. The closer I got, the better he looked. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and an energy that practically screamed trouble.

I reached his booth and stopped right in front of him, crossing my arms. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

He leaned back against the leather seat, his eyes trailed down the red dress before coming back up to meet mine. Up close, his smirk was even more devastating. "I don't know. Am I funny?"

"You have been staring," I said, tilting my head. "It's rude."

"Could you blame me?" He set his glass down on the table, leaning forward so his face was just inches from mine. The scent of expensive cologne and leather hit me instantly. "You're kind of hard to look away from in that dress, sweetheart. Did your friends dare you to come over here?"

"Maybe," I challenged, my throat feeling incredibly dry. "Maybe I just want to see if you're as cocky as you look."

"And?" he asked, his voice dropped into a low, smoky purr. "What's the verdict?"

"I haven't decided yet," I whispered.

Before I could lose my nerve, before the voice in my head could remind me about Adrian and the diamonds and the wedding vows I was supposed to give, I stepped closer. I stood right on my tiptoes, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and pulled him down.

I kissed him.

The second my lips touched his, a jolt of pure electricity shot straight down my spine. I expected him to pull away or laugh, but instead, his large hand gripped my waist, pulling me right into his lap. He responded instantly, parting my lips and deepening the kiss until my head was spinning way faster than it had been from the tequila.

The crowd around us erupted into loud, deafening cheers. I could hear Tessa screaming somewhere in the background, but honestly, the entire venue just vanished. The flashing lights, the bass, the hundred random people—it all faded into nothing. There was only his mouth, his hands, and the terrifying, dangerous attraction pulling me under.

When I finally pulled back, breathless and panting, my lips are completely swollen. He was looking at me with dark, intense eyes, his thumb gently tracing my jawline.

"Wow," he murmured, his voice a little rougher then. "That was definitely not a normal dare."

"I don't do normal," I gave an empty brag, trying to catch my breath as I slid off his lap. My chest was heaving.

I stumbled back toward my friends, my heart hammering like a trapped bird. They surrounded me instantly, jumping up and down like sports fans after a touchdown.

"Sloane! Oh my god!" Tessa shrieked, grabbing my hands. "That was insane! You literally ate him alive!"

"Did you see his face?" Lila screamed, her face was flushed red from the alcohol. "That was epic!"

We flopped back into our booth, and the drinks kept coming. My head was a total fog then. The kiss completely rewired my brain, and the tequila was doing the rest of the work. The game was still going, the energy in our circle getting completely feral as the night went on.

Suddenly, Lila leaned over the table, her eyes wide and totally drunk. "Okay, okay, the game circles back to the bride. Sloane. That kiss was a ten, but we need to top it."

"No way," I laughed, waving my hand. "I have done my part. I'm done."

"No, you aren't ," Lila said, a wild, feral grin spreading across her face. "I dare you to go back over there and marry him."

The table went dead silent for a split second before Cassidy and Maren started screaming.

"Are you crazy?" I yelled, laughing because it sounded like a joke. "Lila, you're literally insane. I can't marry a stranger!"

"It's a dare!" Lila pushed, slamming her hand on the table. "Miami has those twenty-four-hour chapels everywhere. Do it! Just get fake married! It will be hilarious!"

"It isn't fake if it's a real chapel," I stammered, nausea slowly kicking in. "And besides, he will never agree to that."

"Agree to what?"

I froze. The low, deep voice came from right behind me. I turned around, and the gorgeous stranger was standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, looking down at us with an amused expression.

Tessa pointed at him. "She has been dared to marry you! But she's too scared!"

He stepped closer, invading my space instantly. He bent down, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "You won't dare, sweetheart. You're just a good girl playing dress-up."

Something inside me snapped. The word 'good girl' tasted like poison in my mouth. My stupid ego flared, burning right through my common sense.

"I won't dare?" I challenged, turning my face so our noses were almost touching. "Watch me."

I grabbed his hand. His fingers locked firmly around mine.

“After you, Rapunzel.”

Within fifteen minutes, the entire situation spun into madness. We stumbled out of the club and into the thick, humid Miami night. My friends were a loud, drunken audience, running ahead of us. Tessa and Cassidy were literally ripping flowers out of the hotel lobby planters we passed, creating a tragic, mangled bridal bouquet.

"To the chapel!" Maren yelled, waving a stolen palm branch in the air.

The stranger didn't stop me. He just laughed, his grip on my hand tight as he pulled me along the sidewalk. My heels were clicking against the concrete, the warm air wrapped around us like a blanket. I was completely out of my mind, but right then, it felt like the best movie ever made.

We pushed open the doors of a tiny, flickering twenty-four-hour chapel. The neon sign outside was buzzing loudly, casting a harsh pink glow over the lobby. Behind the desk sat a listless, bored-looking officiant who didn't even look up from his phone when we walked in.

"Names?" the officiant asked, his voice completely flat.

The man looked down at me, his eyes gleaming with pure mischief. He looked back at the guy, leaning in to tell our names. He didn't know my name, and thinking of the situation, I didn't think he'd use his actual name either.

The officiant just sighed, sliding a piece of paper across the counter. "Whatever. Sign here."

My hands were shaking as I grabbed the cheap plastic pen. The ink smudged instantly against the paper as I wrote my name in messy, jagged cursive. I didn't even look at what he wrote. I just saw his dark hand take the pen and sign right next to mine.

"Rings," the officiant muttered, holding out his hand.

Tessa shoved a cheap silver band into the stranger's hand—something she had probably bought from a street vendor an hour ago.

The man took my hand. His fingers were steady as he slowly slid the cheap silver band onto my swollen, warm finger. It fit perfectly.

"You're married. Kiss the bride or whatever," the officiant said, already looking back down at his phone.

The stranger turned me to face him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me slightly off my feet. "Ready, little Mrs. Trouble?"

"Shut up and kiss me," I whispered.

He did. He pulled me into a deep, consuming wedding kiss right there under the buzzing neon lights.

It tasted like tequila, a little bit of strawberry, and a freedom I had never known in my entire life. As his lips moved against mine, a terrifying thought cut through the alcohol fog.

What the hell had I just done?