unspoken

Chapter 10: Sneaky Moments

The next couple of weeks were a mix of wedding planning and the quiet thrill of stolen moments. Ethan and I stayed in constant contact, texting about venues, rehearsal details, music choices, and little to-dos. But somewhere between discussing table arrangements and RSVP lists, the conversation inevitably drifted to us—random thoughts, silly jokes, or just checking in on how the other was doing.

At Ryan and Gigi’s events, it became a game. We’d brush hands while passing something, just enough to make each other shiver. A hand lingering slightly longer on my back as we walked through a hall. A whisper shared so no one else could hear. Every little touch was electric, and we both knew it.

Sometimes, we’d slip away from the crowd, just for a minute. A quiet corner during a group discussion. A few steps behind everyone else at a*****e while picking up last-minute wedding supplies. And in those moments, our touches became bolder—hands rubbing across each other’s arms, fingers brushing over thighs when we sat close, and soft, almost hidden kisses that made my heart leap.

One evening, after running an errand with Gigi and Ryan, we ended up walking back to the car together. I leaned into him slightly, pretending to be adjusting my coat, and he pressed a quick, secret kiss to my temple. My breath hitched, and he just smiled, brushing his fingers lightly against mine.

“Are we really this sneaky?” I whispered, a grin tugging at my lips.

“Only when necessary,” he said, voice low and teasing, as if the air between us could combust.

Even in the group texts, the flirtation continued. A playful comment here, a teasing emoji there, and always a subtle, intimate undertone that no one else could notice. Sometimes he’d text me just to ask how my day was going, and I’d find myself thinking about him for hours after, imagining the warmth of his touch or the brush of his lips.

The more time we spent together, the more obvious it became that we were drawn to each other. We would joke about being “forced friends” because of the wedding planning, but even those jokes were layered with tension, with a heat that neither of us could ignore.

And every so often, when no one was watching, a stolen touch or kiss made everything else fade away. Our hands would find each other without thinking. Our legs brushed under a table while laughing at a joke. A quick kiss on the cheek, or just behind my ear, sent shivers down my spine. The world could wait—these moments were ours, and we both knew it.

Even though we were careful, even though we promised ourselves to take things slow, every secret touch, every hidden kiss, every lingering glance drew us closer. And the more we ignored the rest of the world, the louder our own hearts seemed to beat.