Fleeting Flames - Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader

Part 9

The invitation arrived one late afternoon, interrupting a particularly hectic workday. As you reached for your phone, Jenna's message flashed on the screen:

Got a favor to ask, call me when you can.

Intrigued, you called her back almost immediately. Her voice was casual, yet it carried a lightness you hadn't heard in a while.

"Hey, I need a favor," she said.

Smiling, you leaned back in your chair, already knowing that whenever Jenna asked for a favor, it was never small. "What is it this time?"

Jenna's soft laughter hummed through the phone. "My childhood friend is getting married this weekend, and I need a plus-one. You game?"

A brief pause followed as you considered. Being friends with benefits was uncomplicated—fun, no strings attached—but weddings? That felt like a slippery slope. Still, the idea of good food, music, and booze was appealing enough to push aside any hesitation.

"Fine," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. "But you owe me endless drinks."

"Deal." Jenna's voice was warm, maybe a little too warm.

---

The wedding venue was stunning—a sprawling vineyard, with rows of grapevines weaving through the picturesque hills. The subtle scent of flowers in bloom floated in the air, carried by a gentle breeze. It was the perfect romantic setting, one you hadn't really thought about until Jenna greeted you with a mischievous smile, her brown eyes lighting up as they met yours.

There was a certain energy about her tonight. Different. Jenna had always been effortlessly affectionate, but her touches now felt more deliberate. As the two of you made your way through the crowd, her hand lingered on your arm, the small of your back, even resting gently on your shoulder as she introduced you to her childhood friends.

At first, you brushed it off. Jenna was tactile by nature, right? But something in the way she stayed close—always connected to you in some way—set off a quiet alarm in the back of your mind. As if she wanted everyone here to see you together.

During the vows, her hand found yours. It wasn't out of place; people held hands during weddings. But the way her fingers curled around yours felt... intimate. More intimate than the usual casualness of your dynamic.

The reception was a lively mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music. You were nursing a drink at your table when Jenna appeared beside you, her eyes twinkling.

"Dance with me," she said, already pulling you to your feet.

You let her lead you to the dance floor, surrounded by other couples swaying gently beneath the glow of string lights. The song was slow, romantic, the kind of melody that wrapped itself around you like a soft embrace. Jenna's hands rested on your neck as she leaned in closer, pressing her body lightly against yours. The scent of her perfume filled your senses, and suddenly, the line between fun and something more felt dangerously thin.

"You never thought you'd be slow dancing with me at a wedding, huh?" Jenna's voice was soft, teasing.

You chuckled, trying to keep things light. "Not exactly my scene."

She raised a brow, clearly amused. "Well, you're here now. So, might as well enjoy it."

Her grip tightened slightly, and before you could respond, she leaned in, brushing her lips against your cheek in a way that sent warmth flooding through you. The air between you thickened with a tension you couldn't ignore. She wasn't playing her usual game—this felt different. Too close, too intimate.