This is the part she wants to forget.
It's the night before her wedding and Cate is leaving Baze's apartment. She doesn't know why she came here, she just knows she wants to leave. Nevermind what Lux says, the fact that she showed up on his balcony past midnight on her wedding night says a lot more than she's hoping Baze will remember in the morning.
"Cate," he calls to her, says her name in that earnest way of his, and his closeness stops her dead in her tracks. She's one step down to the lower level of the bar, one step out of his apartment, one step in.
"What, Baze?" she says, trying to mask the hurt with irritation, a habit she can't get out of. When is she going to learn that it's okay to be hurt? That it's okay to feel things?
"Just," he fumbles, his voice cracks. This is it. "Wait."
She turns then, back into the apartment, and crosses the handful of steps it takes to stare him face to face. "I would love to wait for you, Nathaniel," she begins, "but as you may know, I have a big day tomorrow."
"Shut up," Baze tells her, and takes a step forward.
"Just shut up," he says again.
And with those words the space between them vanishes, both reaching for each other, pulling at each other's clothes. It's only a moment before Baze has her wrapped around his waist as he heists her to the kitchen counter. Cate groans when his tongue brushes against the roof of her mouth, lets him shove her pants down her legs. She unbuttons him, sliding his jeans just far enough down to expose his dick, wraps her legs around him and reaches between them to help guide his direction.
"Cate," Baze gasps at her touch and meets her hand between them, a question in his voice.
"Shut up," she tells him in kind, and digs her heels into his exposed ass, urging him on as he guides himself inside her.
They move together a moment, trying to find the right rhythm. When they've finally got it, when they find that familiar pace, Baze kisses her again, his mouth moving down her neck until it meets the fabric of her shirt. He struggles to keep his balance while pushing the material up so he can lick at her taught nipples. "Jesus christ," she whines, attempting to grind herself into him as he thrusts in and out of her, the sensation of his tongue sending tremors all the way down to her clit. Encouraged, he reaches up with a hand, thumbs over the sensitive flesh. Cate's breath hitches as she climaxes, tightening around him.
The word "fuck" barely escape's Baze's lips as he comes, hot and sticky inside her.
After they've recovered, Baze helps Cate off the counter. They manage to clean up, move their clothes back into place, and find their way into his bed without so much as a word.
"Cate," Baze says, his voice tired, and just as earnest.
"This doesn't change anything," she tells him. And even then, she doesn't know why she says it. "I'm marrying Ryan."
Baze closes his eyes, the confession now forever lost on his lips.