Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Three
Aurora’s POV

The last few days have been nothing but wonderful.

We went from barely talking to each other to touching each other like two love sick puppies.

I had no idea what all these mean but I love whatever this was.

We have not had time to have a repeat of the other night. He has been busy with so much work, while I’ve been busy planning the wedding—more like nodding yes to everything in purple or blue.

The wedding was finally happening tomorrow and for some reason I was nervous.

Everything has been good lately, it felt like the calm before the storm.

If it were up to me, the night before my wedding would’ve been spent in a bathrobe, sipping tea, and mentally preparing not to trip while walking down the aisle. But of course, Jennifer had other plans.

After yet another dance rehearsal—if I heard one more Celine Dion I was going to puke—we were lounging on her couch when she spoke up.

“There is no way you’re walking down that aisle tomorrow without a proper send-off,” she declared.

“Jennifer, I don’t need a send-off. I need eight hours of sleep and a functioning alarm clock,” I protested, flopping onto the couch.

She gasped like I’d just suggested canceling the wedding altogether. “Absolutely not. You’re having a bridal shower, Aurora. A proper one. With club, music, shots, and at least one questionable decision.” Her eyes glistened in excitement at whatever ridiculous thing she was planning.

“Jennifer—” I groaned, an headache already forming.

“No arguments. I want you in the sexiest dress ever made. And I have the perfect dress.” Her eyes roaming my body like a starved animal. I shivered in fear of what was to come.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Somehow, I ended up in a short black dress I didn’t even know I owned, sitting in the back of a car with Jennifer while music blasted from the speakers.

My nerves screamed at me to go home, but Jennifer was practically glowing with excitement.

“This is the last night of your freedom,” she teased, clinking her glass of champagne against mine. “You better enjoy it.”

“I’m not trapped.”

Jennifer gasped. “See! You’re already brain-washed or dick-washed, whatever. Tonight you’re mine.”

I choked at her words, causing her to laugh at my expense. If only she knew.

We hit the first club around ten. Jennifer had pre-booked a table, of course, and drinks started flowing like water. By the second club, I was tipsy, laughing harder than I had in weeks, and slightly grateful Jennifer had forced me out.

By the third club, I was just trying not to lose a heel.

“Where are we going now?” I asked, gripping Jennifer’s arm as we pushed through the crowd.

“One more stop!” she yelled over the music. “This one is perfect. Trust me.”

I should have known better than to trust Jennifer when she said things like that.

The next place was darker, louder, and filled with neon lights and half-naked dancers. I froze when I saw the sign.

“You brought me to a strip club?” I hissed.

“Yes, and you’re welcome.” Jennifer winked. “Sit down, relax, and let men with abs do what they do best.”

I burst out laughing and Jennifer practically dragged me to a booth. Before I could argue, shots were lined up on the table.

“This is insane,” I muttered, but I took one anyway.

“Good girl,” Jennifer said, satisfied.

The night blurred into laughter, bad dancing, and Jennifer cheering louder than anyone else in the room. I was actually beginning to have fun — until I felt a hand brush against me as I stood by the bar.

“Excuse me,” I said firmly, moving to the side.

I looked around to see Jennifer’s attention on the bartender, trying to order more drinks.

The guy leaned closer, ignoring me, his hand reaching for my waist.

Before I could react, someone stepped between us, shoving the man’s hand away. “I believe she told you no.”

I froze.

It was Lucas.

He looked completely out of place in a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, his sharp eyes locked on the stranger.

“Back off,” Lucas said, his tone low but dangerous.

The man muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the crowd.

I blinked, trying to process what just happened. “Lucas? What—what are you doing here?”

He shrugged, his jaw tight. “Same as everyone else. A drink.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, still surprised at the protective edge in his voice.

His expression softened, almost immediately. “Don’t mention it.”

After a few awkward seconds, he ordered us drinks. “Relax,” he said, sliding one toward me. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

“Because I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I admitted.

Lucas gave me a small smile. “Guess I like surprises.”

That was when Jennifer returned from the bar, two cocktails in her hands.

“Can you believe how long it took for them to make th—” she froze mid-sentence as her eyes landed on Lucas, and her whole face shifted.

Lucas smiled widely. “Jennifer.”

“Lucas,” she said, her voice lacking the usual warmth.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing you are. Enjoying the night,” he replied smoothly.

She looked unconvinced. “Right.”

Before I could ask what the hell was going on between them, Lucas leaned toward me, his hand brushing through my hair.

I stiffened, heat rushing to my face.

Lucas pulled his hand back, holding a small piece of confetti between his fingers. “Relax. It was in your hair,” he explained.

I heard a small scoff from behind me, I wondered what could have happened between them.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Oh.”

“Well, this is… cozy.” A deep voice said from behind me. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

My body heated up instantly as I turned to face him.

Conan.

He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking unfairly good in a dark suit jacket, his eyes locked directly on me.

I swallowed hard. “Conan—what are you doing here?”

Before he could respond, a figure showed up behind him. “I am guilty of forcing this grumpy groom to have some fun before he gets hitched,” he said, a huge grin on his face.

“I’m Alexandro by the way, you can call me Alex.” He stretched his hand towards me but before I could move, Conan pulled me closer to himself, standing between me and Alex.

Alex only laughed.

Lucas’s jaw tightened, though he covered it quickly with a faint smile. “Good to see you, Conan.”

Conan’s arm tightened around my waist. “Is it?”

Jennifer, sensing an explosion, jumped in. “Well, look who decided to crash the party.”

Alexandro’s eyes widened as his eyes found Jennifer, he quickly straightened his expression.

“Of course you’d be here, Jennifer.”

Jennifer’s smile dropped instantly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He smirked. “Miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” she shot back.

They started bickering right there, sharp comments flying back and forth with zero context for the rest of us.

I would have asked her what was going on but Conan leaned down toward me, grilling my last brain cells. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I whispered, though my pulse was racing.

Lucas raised his glass slightly, eyes flicking between Conan and me. “Enjoy your night, Aurora.”

There was something in his smile — not quite real, not quite fake. I couldn’t tell if I imagined it, but his eyes lingered a second too long before he turned away.

Jennifer returned to my side when Alexandro got distracted at the bar. She leaned in, whispering. “What was that about? With Conan?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, feeling my face heat up.

“Nothing doesn’t make you blush,” she shot back.

I shoved her shoulder. “Jennifer, stop.”

She grinned knowingly but let it go.

The rest of the night blurred into more drinks, more bickering between Jennifer and Alexandro, and Conan staying glued to my side like he was staking a claim.

When we finally left the club, the cool night air hit me, and I realized just how tipsy I really was.

Conan helped me into the car, his hand warm against my back. Once the door shut, it was just the two of us.

“You shouldn’t drink that much the night before your wedding,” he said, his voice low.

“Blame Jennifer,” I mumbled.

“I’d rather blame vodka,” he muttered.

I turned to look at him. “Nothing happened, between me and Lucas I mean.”

His gaze burned into me. “I know. But I don’t like how he looks at you.”

My stomach flipped. “And how does he look at me?”

His lips curved slightly. “Like he doesn’t know that you’re mine.”

The car ride was silent after that, but the tension was thick enough to choke me.

When we got back, he walked me upstairs. At my door, I turned to thank him, but the words died in my throat when he leaned down, brushing his lips against mine.

It wasn’t a deep kiss — just enough to make my heart race and my body ache for more.

“Conan—” I whispered, breathless.

He pressed his forehead against mine, his voice low and rough. “You’ll just have to wait until the honeymoon.”

Then he pulled back, leaving me standing there flushed and wanting more.