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his navy pants and his jacket partly opened. Right where the rows of creamy chairs ended. A few tiny pieces of confetti stuck in his hair.

His gaze stayed on me as I walked down that aisle, my legs feeling like I was walking on sand. Heavy and clumsy.

Only when I reached him did he take a step toward me; it was fast and rushed, as if he had been stopping himself from running to me and couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I watched his throat work, his eyes swiping up and down and up again, eating up what was in front of them.

“You look like a dream.”

What a silly thing to tell me when it was him, the one who couldn’t be real. The one I couldn’t believe was here, making my chest full with things I didn’t understand.

I shook my head, trying to pull myself together enough to answer. “You look amazing, Aaron.”

His gaze searched my face for a brief moment, and whatever he found made him smile. Again, that grin. Only for me. What a lucky bitch I was.

Aaron offered his arm, and I struggled not to launch myself at him right then and there. “May I have the honor?” he asked slowly.

A deep belly laugh left my lips. Slowly, I took it. “Now, you are just pushing it.”

His palm fell on top of the one that was resting on the crook of his arm. “What do you mean?”

“Only romance heroes say stuff like that. And we are talking about the ones in a Jane Austen novel. Not even your run-of-the-mill romance hero would butter up a woman that much,” I explained as we moved forward, in the direction of the adjoining restaurant, where everybody else was, probably a glass of wine—or two—already in hand.

“In my book, having the most beautiful woman on my arm classifies as an honor.”

I hoped the foundation the makeup artist had had to apply for a second time covered the way my cheeks flushed. “If the bride so much as gets wind of what you are saying, you’ll be in so much trouble.” I heard his chuckle, but he didn’t retract his words. “She’ll kick you out of the wedding, and I will not be able to help you. You are too tall and big to sneak in, unnoticed.” And too damn handsome too, but I kept that part to myself.

Aaron chuckled again, the noise traveling down my spine and leaving a trail of shivers. I was finding it really hard to ignore how good his arm felt under my fingers or how right being tucked in his side was.

It was only when we were a few feet away from the open area, where all the invitees were gathered, that Aaron spoke, “It would be worth it, you know.”

My head turned, taking in his profile as he kept his gaze up front.

“For seeing you in that dress and having you enter any place on my arm, I’d endure pretty much anything.”

My lips parted, and had Aaron not been providing his support, I would have tumbled down to the floor, rolled the rest of the way, and probably stopped only when my back came against a chair or a table.

“Even your sister’s rage.”

Then, a flash went off right in our faces, snapping me out of my trance.

Blinking away the bright white spots, I got a glimpse of a camera.

“Maravilloso!” a high-pitched voice I was well acquainted with screeched. “What a beautiful couple you two make.”

My mouth snapped shut and then opened again. Not having my sight back completely, I kept blinking until a bright red mane started coming into focus. Charo.

“Oh, your babies are going to be the cutest things ever.”

I cursed under my breath and smiled tightly while Aaron seemed surprisingly unconcerned. The dumbest mental image took me by surprise. One of Aaron holding a chubby, blue-eyed baby in his large arms.

Stepping out of my cousin’s trajectory and veering for the wine, I tried to recompose myself.

“And so it begins,” I muttered under my breath. The day I had feared and dreaded for months.

Only, in that precise moment, with Aaron’s arm under my fingers and his smile aimed at me, I came to realize that what frightened me was nothing I had ever come to expect.

If I’d known that my sister had hired a kiss cam for the wedding reception, I would have claimed to be sick and hidden in the bathroom. Ironically, I wouldn’t have had to lie all that much. My dinner kept climbing up my throat every single time the tune announcing the start of the most painful thirty seconds of my life reached my ears. During that time that stretched into a hellish eternity, the camera scanned the crowd seated on the round tables scattered across the lush green garden of the restaurant before coming to a stop on a couple and displaying their image—framed by a heart—on a conveniently installed projector.

Every single time the camera so much as passed over my fake date and me, my heart ceased beating before resuming at breakneck speed.

Apparently, the possibility of having my first kiss with Aaron displayed on a big screen in front of my whole family was going to give me a heart attack.

And just as if my thoughts had somehow conjured it, the tritone tune announced the start of a new round of: Will Lina die of nerves and anticipation tonight? Or will she lose her shit and commit camera murder?

“Oh, what a fun idea this was, Isabel!” my mom hollered with excitement from across the table.

My sister seemed to pride herself even more, if that was possible. “I know.” She smiled giddily. “They’ll even put all the film together, edit it, and send me a montage with all the kisses,” she explained over the relentless tune of doom.

One eye on the projector screen, I watched the camera hover on a table close by.

“I had to book an extra package for that, but it’s totally worth it.”

The

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