You absolutely hate the Best Man for your best friend's wedding. He always seems to ignore you and acts like a complete caveman when you're near him. Why can't you ignore how he makes you feel, then? Why can't you stay away from them if you dislike...
Disclaimers: Female! Reader, Dancing, Sexual Themes, Kissing, UST, Phone Sex
Warnings: This story does not start explicit but does get there. Minors do not interact. This story is 18+.
A/N: I think I ought to brace for some pitchforks with this installment. Roo and Tiny's happy little relationship? It's not quite so happy, not anymore. But! I hope you all love this installment! Thanks, as always to desert-fern for beta-reading this chapter! Love ya, Fernie!
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Dancing hasn't been the only thing happening in your life over the past couple of months - not in the slightest. Between planning the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties, cake tastings, and dress fittings, you've been navigating the burgeoning relationship between you and Bradley Bradshaw. You've never felt so alive. It feels like you're finally living your life. You've had so much fun in the eight weeks since your dalliance, your assignation, your arrangement, well your whatever it is with Bradley Bradshaw began. He sets your every vein alight and makes you laugh, so much. If you didn't know any better, and you're not sure you actually do, you'd think you were falling in love. It feels like you're free falling, like there isn't a single thing holding you down.
Before Bradley Bradshaw you've never felt so cherished or gorgeous or loved, not once. You've also never had a partner so intent on ensuring your own pleasure. Sometimes you can't believe that you feel like this, with him, when you've never even been on a date together. But that was by design, you know, even if a part of you rankles just a little to think that you have to hide until after Greg and Sophie get married. You shouldn't feel like a dirty little secret. You shouldn't. But as hot as you find having signals to meet Bradley at his place or yours, and how many times you fuck in restaurant bathrooms and filthy clubs, you can't hide how you feel. So, on what is the penultimate dance class before the wedding, you're determined to finally get Bradley to put a name to what the two of you are doing.
But you're also running horribly, terribly late. You're one of the last people walking into the studio, slipping in just as Rodrigo begins his customary speech at the beginning of class. Bradley's easy to spot, he always is. But what you don't expect is the long-legged red-head in a green dress clinging to his muscular bicep. The dress accentuates all of her assets and you can tell by even Will's googly eyes that every man in the room has his eyes right on her. It's a blow to your already fragile heart and your tattered self-esteem to see the two of them standing there together.
You can't cry, not in front of every other person in the bride's and groom's parties. And you cannot let yourself cry in front of Bradley fucking Bradshaw. In fact, you will not let yourself. You let your anger at being duped and taken advantage yet again by a man fill you. When it comes time to actually dance, you feel exactly like you did that first dance class with Bradley Bradshaw, except it hurts far more than you'd expect to see his brown eyes widen in delight at the sight of your face.
