It might have seemed audacious to ask the woman they’d screwed over to do their wedding flowers, but Calvin and Ivy were desperate. Three florists had already cancelled on them, and the summer wedding season meant everyone else was already overbooked. With a mere two months remaining until the big day, they had next to no time to find the kind of florist that could make their high-profile wedding into the exquisite occasion everyone expected. And Sofia Violet seemed like their only option.

They hadn’t seen her since high school. It had been ten years. Calvin tried to process it. Ten years since he’d broken up with Sofia the night before prom and gone with Ivy instead. Ten years. They’d been kids. And now? Now everyone was grown up. He’d been on and off with Ivy ever since and now they were on and the wedding was in two months. The venue was booked. The cake was decided. The guest list had been finalised, and gold-embossed invites were about to be sent out. Only the flowers remained.

Two months was an unrealistic timescale but as people said; if anyone could pull it off, it’d be Sofia Violet. She did red carpet events, gave speeches on environmentalism, and had even been named in Forbes' thirty under thirty. She was interviewed in bridal magazines; had worked on the Met Gala; her floral arrangements had even made the cover of Vogue.

Her waiting list for weddings was over a year long, and so Calvin was forced to spend long hours networking and digging to find out exactly who’d booked her for the upcoming months. With millions of social media followers, he had the power and reach to destroy reputations, and it took little convincing to advise people to find alternative florists.

Even after all the underhand work, he still hadn’t been able to book an appointment with Sofia and so he’d finally ended up outside the flower market she was rumoured to frequent every night. It was three in the morning and he was exhausted.

Calvin sighed. He got out of his car and stretched, heading towards the market. Vans and trucks filled the parking lot and fluorescent light glowed from the entrance of the enormous building.

Inside, the huge warehouse was refreshingly cool, and laden with flowers. Everyone seemed to know everyone and the conversation was loud and easy. People wheeled along rattling crates and trolleys stacked with bouquets and pots. There were more people than he’d expected and he had to ask if anyone knew Sofia and whether or not she was around. He’d wandered for what felt like miles around the maze of stalls before he finally found her.

He didn’t recognise her at first. It was stupid of him but in his mind, the Sofia he’d been looking for was the same girl he’d fallen for at high school. Sure, she’d been pretty but she didn’t use it. Nobody saw it unless they looked hard enough. But it’d come to the surface now, so completely and devastatingly that he felt almost afraid to approach her.

He thought of the hours he’d spent to find her. The wedding had to be perfect. People had been following Ivy ever since her breakout role in the Emmy-winning drama series Ladies and Calvin had been interviewed enough times on national television to turn him into something of a celebrity. Their relationship had become a social media convergence of two worlds and typically everyone was obsessed with the wedding. People were taking bets on everything from the bridesmaids dresses to the dessert menu, and People magazine had secured exclusive rights to cover the day.

They needed flowers.

Calvin stepped forward.

“Sofia? Hey!”

She turned, frowning as he approached.

“Yes?”

He blinked. She didn’t recognise him and he felt unexpectedly affronted.

“It’s Calvin. Calvin Chase? From Parker High?”

“Oh,” Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and he felt a sudden, primal urge to kiss it hard. The thought caught him off guard and he tried to dismiss it.

“It’s been a while,” Sofia said and she smiled the quick, nervous smile he’d always known her for.

She wore a shirt over denim shorts. Her legs were long and tanned sleekly brown. Even in high-heeled sandals she was a good six inches shorter than him. Her hair was darker than he remembered and up in a messy braid. Make-up was smudged around her golden eyes.

“Whatcha doing here anyway?” She looked him up and down. “I thought you were into journalism now, not flowers.”

“I was looking for you, actually. I – uh – well, Ivy Stone and I are getting married and we’re looking for a florist.”

If Sofia was surprised, she hid it well.

“You could’ve called the store,” she said mildly. She turned and began walking again

“I did, actually,” Calvin tried to match her pace. “I called and we even went by but you just – I know you must be busy. The woman there, Martha, she said we could find you here.”

“Well, you found me.” She was walking remarkably fast, constantly scanning the market. He felt like he was in the presence of something spectacular. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up past her elbows and her arms were almost browner than her legs. There was a tattered wire bound notepad in her hand, and on the top sheet was a scrawled list of items he couldn’t make sense of. He wanted to touch her, hardly believing she was real.

He cleared his throat. “I thought you might – I don’t know – still be pissed at what happened.”

Sofia laughed.

“Wow. Add arrogance to your list of traits.” She picked up a bunch of pale orange roses and examined them. “It was a hundred years ago, Calvin.”

“Yeah, I know, but -”

“But what?” She replaced the roses. “It all worked out in the end. You guys are still together. We’re all doing just fine.”

Calvin frowned. Part of him had wanted there to be some kind of rejection. Some kind of payback. But she seemed totally unconcerned. It almost offended him. He wanted to have had some kind of impact, to have left some kind of mark on her but there was nothing. She was beautiful and successful and smart and so together that he felt like a mess in comparison.

“Anyway,” Sofia was bending over to examine a crate of long-stem white roses and he stared helplessly at her ass. It looked incredible. The stallholder cast him a disapproving look. Sofia straightened up. “What’s your aesthetic?”

“My what?”

She rolled her eyes. “For the wedding. What style are you looking for? Colours? Shapes?”

“Uhhhh.” Calvin hoped he didn’t look as stupid as he felt. He tried to remember the words Ivy had been throwing about. “White. And rose pink. Rose? It might be rouge. They’re practically the same though, right?”

Sofia laughed like he was joking. Calvin tried to smile. She turned and started walking fast again, slipping through the narrowest spaces between stalls as though she were trying to lose him. He kept up. She turned finally and seemed disappointed that he was still there.

“You should book a consultation,” she said. “When’s the wedding?”

“August eleventh,” Calvin said. Her eyebrows shot up and he hastily added, “But Ivy has everything figured out already. And we’ll pay upfront. Everything.”

Sofia frowned. She scrolled through her phone reluctantly.

“Two months is nothing,” she mused. “I’ve had cancellations but – it’s really not much time.”

“Please,” Calvin said. “We can’t find anyone else. And we’re – well, we’re kinda old friends, right?”

Sofia blinked at him. “I guess.” She sighed and looked through her phone again. “Let’s make an appointment. Say, Monday? Ten a.m. Bring Ivy, okay?”

Calvin frowned. “I’m working.”

“Then forget it,” Sofia said. She pocketed her phone and eyed him with half a smile. “Find someone else.”

There was no one else. And he didn’t want anyone else. Her eyes were like sunlight, and against the backdrop of countless flowers, she looked like a hazy, fantastical daydream. She’d become so different to the way he remembered; like every good thing had been amplified and highlighted and blown up in glorious, beautiful, high definition colour. He wanted to grasp the waistband of her shorts and drag her closer and kiss her like it was the last kiss he’d ever have.

“Well?” Sofia eyed him impatiently.

“We’ll be there,” he said and he watched her walk away until his stomach hurt.

***

Ivy and Sofia hit it off as though their friendship had never waned. The three of them were sitting in the spacious, airy office at Sofia’s store and Ivy had already launched directly into her list of daunting requirements, which Sofia seemed to take remarkably in stride.

They talked endlessly about shades of white and the fall of Ivy’s wedding dress and the tables and guests and things that seemed totally irrelevant to floral arrangements but every time Calvin tried to speak, Ivy shut him down. He contented himself with pretending to listen and trying not to look too obviously at Sofia.

She was in her element, scrawling ideas into a pristine notebook, leaping up to find photographs to show to Ivy, and calling her suppliers to check prices. She really was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful but it was in a stop and stare way now and god help him, Calvin couldn’t stop staring. Her dress fit impeccably to her narrow waist before flaring into a pleated skirt and her legs looked ridiculously perfect. He felt the urge to touch her, to feel her warm skin, slide his hand under her skirt and touch her until she came all over his goddamn fingers.

He swallowed hard and tried to shake the image. Ivy was sitting right next to him. But Sofia was opposite and her mouth was perfection, the shape of her glossy lips, the way she pressed them together hard as she focused. And her eyes. They hardly settled on him but he felt caught off guard when they did, thrown by her amused disinterest. It seemed like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Sunlight poured in through the windows, and he undid the top button of his shirt, loosening the tie around his neck. He looked at the photographs on the wall. Celebrities Sofia had worked with. Magazine covers. Everything about her seemed untouchably sleek. And she’d been his. He’d kissed her, touched her, gotten so close to everything she was. He couldn’t help but marvel at the way life had played out since.

Sofia went out of the room to put together a vague idea of the flowers Ivy had asked for. Calvin and Ivy exchanged a glance.

“She seems good,” he offered.

“Yeah,” Ivy adjusted her earrings, frowning. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But she seems kinda full of herself, don’t you think? And her tan is so trashy. It’s fake, right?”

“Probably,” Calvin wondered if she’d cottoned onto Sofia’s effect on him and was venting accordingly. But he’d done his best to act normal. She couldn’t possibly know.

“Anyway,” Ivy’s voice dropped even lower. “Did you manage to cancel the gala she’s doing?”

Calvin blinked. “We’ve booked her now. Why would we need to?”

Ivy rolled her eyes extravagantly. “Because we need her undivided attention! Honestly, Calvin, it’s like you don’t even care! Everything has to be perfect. Everyone needs to focus on us. Nothing else. So cancel it. Sofia hasn’t got the brain to multitask and I’m not taking any chances.”

There was a flurry of movement at the door and they exchanged a nervous glance as Sofia walked back in.

But thankfully, she hadn’t heard. She looked radiant as ever, her arms full of flowers which she tipped gently onto the desk.

“I’ll have to order lily of the valley,” she said. “And the roses will be paler, like you want. But this is just a general idea of course.”

“But they’re perfect,” Ivy stood up, gazing at the flowers reverently. “This is exactly what I had in mind.” She lifted one of the bouquets in wonder, examining it from every angle before sighing contentedly. “You’re literally a genius,” she whispered and she was doing what she did with everyone, playing the princess, acting like the girl next door and Sofia was happy and laughing and she seemed so taken in by Ivy’s charm that Calvin wondered if she’d lost some of the intelligence she’d always been known for.

“The flowers are literally the most important thing,” Ivy was saying. “They’re everything. I mean, I’m walking down the aisle to La Vie en Rose. They’re even on the cake. They’re literally going to tie everything together.”

“I understand entirely,” Sofia reassured. “It’s going to be beautiful, Ivy.”

“And nobody can know,” Ivy continued. “I don’t want anyone to know anything until the actual day. So it has to be like, top secret, and you might think nobody cares but believe me, people literally follow us everywhere. They might even show up here. They won’t find anything out, will they?”

“Oh no, don’t worry,” Sofia said. “We have state of the art security. Nobody will know a thing, I promise you.”

And her reassuring smile was so beautiful that Calvin couldn’t even look at her.

“It’s going to be amazing,” Ivy said when they finally walked out of the store. Her excitement was palpable and yet all Calvin wanted to do was go back into the florists, and fuck Sofia until he passed out. He tried to be rational. She was just a woman. Nothing. And yet he felt like a teenager again; daydreaming about the unobtainable. He’d wanted her for years and he didn’t think the urge had ever gone away but had somehow receded and hidden in the back of his mind, waiting for a time to come out and now it was out and it was all he could think of.

“I can’t believe how much time we wasted,” Ivy was saying as they crossed the street. “We should have called her first.”

“I’m surprised she’s doing it,” Calvin confessed. “You really think she doesn’t care about what we did?”

“Why would she?” Ivy dismissed. “Anyway, she can’t afford to. It’s not like this is gonna be a small-time wedding. This is like, huge publicity for her. She’d be literally stupid to say no.”

Calvin glanced at her, frowning.

“You think?”

“Yes,” Ivy widened her eyes for effect. “Like she’s gonna turn us down because of one tiny thing ten years ago. She needs us.”

One tiny thing. Calvin wondered if he’d built the betrayal into something more than it was. Both Sofia and Ivy were clearly over it; they’d hugged like old friends after the consultation. And yet, he couldn’t shift the feelings of guilt. Sofia had been his first girlfriend and he’d dumped her and upgraded in the most callous way possible. Upgraded. Ivy was holding his hand tight and she flipped her honey-blonde hair back over her shoulder as he opened the passenger side door for her. She slid in gracefully. Calvin closed the door, went around to his side and started the engine.

“You don’t think we did anything wrong?” he pressed.

“Well, maybe you did,” Ivy said. “You’re the one who dumped her. Anyway, when did you get such a conscience? You literally kill people off every day. Like Sofia was even a drop in the ocean.”

He looked at her but she was absorbed in the screen of her phone, replying to text messages. She’d been Sofia’s best friend at school and until now, they hadn’t spoken once since the night of the prom. Maybe girls were wired differently. Maybe enough time had passed. He frowned and pulled out into lunchtime traffic.

***

The summer was relentless; it hadn’t rained for weeks and though Calvin presumed this boded well for the impending wedding, apparently he was wrong. It was a bad thing, Ivy explained impatiently. Cakes could melt, flowers could wilt, guests could be squinting in photographs outside the church and heaven forbid the champagne should be warm. Calvin tried to come up with solutions but his mind was distracted and he’d become more of a hindrance than anything.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Sofia. It wasn’t a welcome fixation; in fact, he did anything and everything he could to expel thoughts of her from his mind but they resurfaced, persistent and frustratingly urgent, resulting in a tight, unstoppable hardness beneath his jeans. It came over him at the worst of times; during meetings, interviews, even when he was trying to sleep.

He couldn’t sleep. The nights were sweltering and he’d lie awake beside Ivy and think about Sofia until he had to get out of bed and jerk off in the bathroom. It was constant, continual. He’d walk down the street and think he’d seen her but it was always someone else, someone unimportant and everyday with dark hair and nothing else.

His focus should have been on Ivy. He was marrying the love of his life. She was beautiful and smart and successful and her family were rich and their union would only give him bigger opportunities in the world of journalism. She should have been all he wanted.

But he wanted Sofia. Every time he took a shower, he found himself masturbating to the thought of her. He wondered what she looked like naked, what it’d be like to fuck her, the sounds she’d make, the way she’d say his name, the way her body would feel under his hands. The fantasies came quick and fast, his fist working his cock hard as he leaned his forehead against the cool wall of the shower and groaned out her name.

And it got worse; the thought of her even invading his mind when he was in bed with Ivy.

“Oh God,” His eyes were closed and if he focused hard enough, he could almost lose himself in the fantasy. “God, Sof-”

He caught himself just in time, stomach reeling from the mistake.

“What, baby?” Ivy frowned as he opened his eyes. “So what?”

“I just – just – you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said and marvelled at the save. He was dripping in sweat. Ivy smiled indulgently and touched the side of his face.

***

The day of the wedding came closer. Everyone was ready. Friends from abroad were flying into the city and the seating plan had been triple-checked. Minor adjustments to timings were being made. They even had an impromptu rehearsal of the ceremony though it seemed pointless without the guests and flowers. Still, it gave Calvin a chance to realise how ridiculous his vows sounded out loud. He emailed his speech writer immediately afterwards, demanding a redraft.

Two days to zero.

Calvin was living his best life. He’d just gotten off the phone with Tom Ford, having assured them he’d wear the suit they’d sent in his next television appearance. Interest in his wardrobe had soared since the engagement announcement and he still couldn’t believe he was getting paid to wear clothes. He set down his phone and went out onto the deck.

All eight of Ivy’s bridesmaids had come over for cocktails and they were getting progressively louder and happier. The evening was warm and luxurious, the sun slanting lazy rays of heat into the back garden. Ice-cubes clinked in glasses of lemonade and wine. Calvin was wondering whether it was too soon to offer to handle the PR for his future sister-in-law’s cosmetics company when Ivy caught his elbow and steered him inside.

“Have you heard from Sofia?” she asked.

Calvin blinked. “No. Why?”

“I’ve texted her four times and she hasn’t answered.”

“She knows what she’s doing,” he said. “She’s probably just busy.”

Ivy glared at him. “We have two days, Calvin. Two days!” She went into the kitchen and thrust a sheet of paper at him. “These are all the flowers we decided. Go and make sure she has everything arranged.”

Calvin didn’t want to go. It was past seven and it was unlikely Sofia would even be in her store. Besides the idea of being alone with her felt far too dangerous.

“Do I really have to?” he asked.

Ivy looked furious.

“Do I have to do everything myself?” she snapped.

Calvin wisely took the list, got in his car and tried to be rational.

He was marrying Ivy. He loved Ivy. She was smart and beautiful and she understood him and she wasn’t afraid to go low. She was the perfect woman for him. Sofia was nothing. She was a distant memory. A high school reject. Their lives ran on different paths, different speeds. He was blowing her up in his mind, making something out of nothing. It was just the shock of seeing her again. He didn’t need her. He didn’t want her. Besides, now that he thought about it, she wasn’t even all that attractive. Ivy was perfection. Blonde and clean and perfect.

Sofia was nothing. He got out of the car, repeating the line in his head though he was already sweating at the thought of seeing her again. It was ridiculous. She’s nothing. She’s not even attractive.

But she was. The store was closed and when she finally opened the door, she stood in front of him in a pristine white summer dress and strappy high-heeled sandals. Even looking at her felt indecent.

Her hair was up in an untidy ponytail and gold waterfall earrings made her eyes glow more luminous than ever. He didn’t understand how one woman could be so striking. Was he the only one who saw it? It was a mythical, fairytale, princess-of-an ancient-civilisation kind of beauty. Unobtainable and unforgettable.

“Calvin?” She looked momentarily worried. “Is there something wrong? Please don’t tell me the wedding’s off.”

“No! God, no. Definitely not,” he said. “Ivy’s stressing out,” he explained apologetically. “She sent me over with a list to make sure everything was in order.”

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“Look, relax. Everything’s going to be perfect. I really don’t have time for this.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” His voice was easy but his palms were damp. “C’mon, Sofia. It won’t take long.”

She eyed him unwillingly then blew out a breath and stepped aside to let him into the shop. He followed her into the cool store room where she was emptying buckets and refilling them with clean water.

“You can wait in the office,” she said. “I won’t be long.”

The office was too warm. He dropped down into a hard-backed chair and commended himself on choosing not to wear a jacket. The light was off but the sun hadn’t set yet and blue evening light came through the high windows. A stack of glossy bridal magazines were neatly arranged on a low table next to him. Countless bunches of sunflowers were standing in buckets of water, just beyond the door.

Sofia took forever. When she finally joined him, she went directly to the cabinet in the corner and filled two thirds of a glass with cranberry juice, topping it off with vodka. She glanced at him.

“You want one?”

“Sure.”

She went to find another glass and eventually dropped into the seat opposite him.

“Those are nice,” Calvin said lamely, gesturing at the endless sunflowers.

“They’re for a charity event,” Sofia said.

Her phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up and frowned at the screen.

“Huh.”

Calvin frowned. “What?”

She looked at him.

“Another cancellation.” She set the phone down. “It’s funny, y’know. I was booked out all summer and then three events called to cancel. Three. In a row! And now the August gala. Would you believe?”

Calvin tried to look surprised.

“Wow, really?”

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“I’m not stupid, Calvin. I’ve seen your articles. I know how you work people.” She eyed him. “You know, you shouldn’t see people as a means to an end. It’s a short-term way of living. You gotta play the long game.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Calvin said.

She didn’t look convinced and it bothered him. She was smarter than she let on and he didn’t like it. He felt out of his depth around her, unsure of where the conversation would veer and yet he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

There was something about just being around her that made him feel privileged; made everything feel more precious and alive. It was in the way strands of hair stuck to her forehead, in the overpowering smell of flowers, the way she walked across the room to spill more vodka into their glasses, the way the light hit the delicate hollow of her throat and her collarbones and her perfect, even skin and everything and everything and everything.

He was constantly, helplessly turned onto her. She was still wearing her sandals and when she sat back down, she extended her legs so her feet could rest on an upturned plastic bucket. Her dress had creased up way too high and yet it wasn’t high enough. Nothing was enough.

He gulped from his glass. The room felt unbearably hot even as the fan whirred softly above them. When he moved, he could feel the sweat soaked into his t-shirt. He ran a hand through his damp hair and blew out a breath.

“You were saying about a list?” she prompted and he thought he should look through his pockets and find it but the idea seemed preposterous when all he really wanted to do was touch her. He pulled his chair closer to hers, the legs scraping across the hard floor.

“You ever wonder,” he began, “How it’d have turned out if we’d stayed together?”

Sofia appraised him from behind her glass. She narrowed her eyes.

“You mean, if you hadn’t fucked my best friend?”

Calvin frowned.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh?” She leaned forward in her chair, so close that he could smell roses and vodka. “So what was it like, Calvin?”

Her teeth caught her lip on his name and he felt it in his stomach. He could hardly breathe. He reached out recklessly and touched her leg. It felt warm. She looked at his hand but she didn’t push it away. He was watching her face, waiting for something, anything, to give him permission but there was nothing. Her eyes met his. Eyelashes. Her mouth was right there, inches from his. It wouldn’t take much to kiss her. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything so bad.

“I’m sorry,” he said, like it helped.

She almost smiled.

“It’s fine. It’s good. You were made for each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just – obvious now. The way you are. All fake nice, y’know? She’s such an actress and you,” Her mouth twisted a little sadly. “It’s like you don’t even know who you are.”

Her voice was soft and the words passed through him like music. He didn’t understand what she was saying and he didn’t want to. His hand was still on her leg and he didn’t move it. Sofia’s eyes flicked down to his mouth like she knew what he was thinking. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. He wanted to kiss it. He wanted to kiss any part of her he could.

“You should go home,” she said.

He looked at her.

“So I still don’t get to fuck you?”

Her brows pulled together in a frown.

“Is that what you’re here for? What you want?”

“It’s all I can think of,” Calvin said and it felt wonderful to drop the confession at last; to hear himself set the words free. “Like you don’t know,” He felt angry with her all of a sudden, hot and desperate and furious. “Like you don’t know what the fuck you do to me.”

She pulled her leg free of his grasp.

“So show me.”

He didn’t break eye contact. He reached down and undid his jeans, the material stiff and uncompromising beneath his fingers. It seemed to take an age for him to get his cock out but Sofia didn’t speak; she just waited, eyes on his until he’d freed his cock and it stood tall and hard in his fist. Her eyes dropped down momentarily before meeting his gaze again. The colour of her irises seemed to darken to a burnt caramel.

“You think about me?” she asked. “Do you jerk off?”

“All the time.”

Calvin felt impatient, and yet he didn’t dare try and rush. Sofia seemed totally in control. She drained her glass and set it down hard on the table.

Then she touched him.

Her hand came out, cool from the glass and her fingertips skimmed the smooth skin of his pole, urging his hand away so she could touch him properly, her slim fingers wrapping around and stroking lightly. Calvin watched the progress of her hand. He barely dared to breathe. She was wearing a ring on her middle finger and the way the metal band pressed against him was everything.

“You want me to suck it?” She asked the question very easily and calmly, like she was asking what time it was. Calvin couldn’t form a coherent answer but maybe it had been a rhetorical question because she moved forward regardless.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She let go of his cock and grasped the waistband of his jeans, easing them down. He lifted his ass off the chair and she dragged the denim down past his knees and looked up at him.

His hand came out and grasped the side of her face, his thumb roughly tracing the edge of her cheekbone. Her skin felt smooth. She looked like a work of art; like every line and hair was in place, every mistake was supposed to be there; he felt like he could just sit and look at her all night long and never get bored. Her tongue came out and she leaned forward, tracing it wetly from the base of his cock to the tip.

Calvin tried to speak but his voice caught in his throat. His hand moved across her face to sink into her hair as her lips closed around the head of his cock, urging him deeper into her mouth. It was everything he’d been dreaming of for the last two months and yet the fantasies had been nothing; weak strains of music washed away by orchestral reality. Her mouth felt wet and warm, like it was made for him, and the deeper she went, the harder his cock felt. It was all he could think of.

She was a mistake; all he ever did around her was make mistakes but this had to be worth it; the way her tongue stroked as she sucked; the feel of her hand as she moved to caress his heavy balls. His hand tightened in her hair, urging her on, not letting go until she’d sucked him down to the base and her eyes flicked up to meet his. She looked like a dream. He wanted to photograph the moment, keep it forever but all he could do was live it.

She pulled back and he guided her movements until he was fucking her mouth recklessly, making her eyes water and her fingernails dig hard into the muscle of his thighs. She didn’t try to stop him though; she took everything he wanted to give until he felt perilously close to the edge and then he withdrew, leaving her gasping in front of him.

He was still holding tight to her hair and he pulled her up so he could kiss her wet mouth, his tongue pushing inside until she moaned. His free hand went down and found her ass, curling around one cheek and squeezing hard as he pulled her closer into him.

She pulled back momentarily. “Calvin, look, maybe -”

“Maybe nothing,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse and he didn’t set it right. “Maybe you want this as bad as I do.”

She kissed him back, her hands clawing at the white cotton of his t-shirt. His leg was between hers and she pushed against it urgently. He let go of her hair and pulled the strap of her dress down. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and he grasped her breast, groaning at the firm weight of it. His thumb brushed back and forth against her nipple, teasing it to hardness as she pushed into his hand.

His cock ached. He let go of her ass to drag down her lacy panties, his hand finding its way between her legs and feeling the slick heat he craved.

“God, Sof,” He hadn’t used the name since school, since broaching second base had been the entire world. “You’re just – everything.”

She kissed him again, holding his face between her hands, her tongue fighting his until they were both panting. His hand moved between her legs, one fingertip pushing inside her tight entrance.

“Fuck,” he breathed the word out. “Fucking hell.”

He pushed harder, his finger curling inside her. He could feel her throb around him, alive and maddeningly warm. He stood and kicked off his shoes and jeans, accidentally knocking his chair over. It upturned and clattered onto the floor behind him but he didn’t stop. He pushed Sofia against the wall, his hand resuming its place between her legs as he kissed her hard.

His free hand curled around her throat possessively, his thumb feeling the race of her pulse. She swallowed hard and he felt it so completely that it made him shudder. Touching her felt like something else; like more than sex and bodies; something incredible that he wanted to hold onto forever. He felt like he could feel everything. Sofia’s hand went down and found his cock again and he groaned, his heart racing.

He pulled her dress down further, exposing her tits and feeling the firm curves of her flesh. It seemed so essential, like there was something he could get out of her. Some meaning or life or just pleasure. He wanted all of her forever. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was looking down at his cock in her hand and her dark eyelashes looked unbearably delicate against her cheek.

“You are – just – something else,” he whispered.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. They looked almost luminous in the darkening room. She reached past him to flick the light on and he blinked. Clarity. Everything became three dimensional, edges of edges. He felt like he could take the tension and bottle it and keep it as a reminder.

His finger moved faster inside her and she leaned against the wall, pushing back at him. Her body tremored on the edge of release and he let go of her to drag his damp t-shirt off so he was finally naked. He still felt far too hot. Sofia was still wearing her sandals but she managed to untangle her underwear from around her ankles with remarkable grace. She dropped it onto the floor and for a second they looked at each other.

“Are you sure?” She stepped towards him uncertainly. “I mean – I don’t wanna – do something you’ll regret.”

Calvin didn’t want to listen to her. He didn’t think he could bear getting so close without fucking her. He caught her wrist, pulled her closer and spun her around to find the zip on the back of her dress.

“I never regret anything,” he said tightly.

The dress fell down around her ankles and she was naked except for her shoes and her body was everything he’d dreamed of; smooth and tanned and warm and he wanted to touch all of it all at once. His eyes flicked around the room, looking for a place to fuck. He’d figured on the desk but it was covered in papers so he pulled her down onto the cold floor, the slate tiles hard against his shoulder blades.

He pulled her closer and kissed her, his body pressing flush against hers. He could hardly figure out the best position but their bodies fit together easily and it took minimal effort for him to finally push inside her. He didn’t go slow. She was deliciously tight, and he gripped hard to her waist, sinking deep inside her in search for a perfect rhythm.

She moved like she knew him; like she’d been fucking him for years and knew just how to make everything inside him tense for fear of finishing too early. It was slick, frictionless, the endless collision of bodies, gasps and moans falling into each other, her mouth against his and her body effortlessly pushing his control to the edge. He couldn’t do anything but fuck; revel in the feel of everything and groan out her name like he’d been doing every day since their reconnection.

He couldn’t get enough. He could hear the sounds he was making, low and primal and he couldn’t do anything about them. He pulled her closer, craned his neck to kiss her shoulder, her throat, every inch of skin he could reach.

“Is she better than me?” Sofia’s voice was breathless in his ear and it took him a second to figure out what she was saying. “Does she fuck like this?”

Calvin didn’t know what to say. He thought of monotonous missionary nights, cracks of light beneath the bedroom door, the almost dismissive way Ivy touched him. He gripped harder to Sofia’s waist, forcing her to take him further and faster. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her tits moved with each thrust.

His leg caught the table and a glass fell off, smashing somewhere nearby. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He felt too hot, too complex, like he needed to break out of his own body. Sofia’s hair had almost fallen free of her ponytail and he grasped a handful of it, holding her closer as he fucked her. His right hand smacked against the tight curve of her ass, the sound crudely loud.

“Calvin – what’re y-”

He slapped her again and she moaned, her fingernails digging into the muscle of his chest as she ground against him.

“You like that?” He didn’t recognise his own voice as his hand slapped repeatedly against her until he felt the heat radiate against his palm. Even then he didn’t stop, the strike of his hand keeping time with the fuck. The floor was hard and unforgiving beneath him but it only made every thrust feel like more; there was nothing to absorb their movements but him. He could feel everything. He gripped her ass hard, feeling the heat beneath his hand and she gasped out his name. Everything was wet, slick motion.

He caught her waist and turned, so she’d moved beneath him and he was finally on top. He kissed her again, almost gently, his teeth catching her lower lip and tugging on it until she moaned. He sank back inside her, fucking her without restraint. Her hips lifted to meet his but he went harder, pushing her against the floor.

“Just – take – it,” he hissed.

Her nails sank into his shoulders and he went harder, pushing fully inside her and holding himself there for as long as he dared. His cock ached. His sweat dripped onto her. Her legs went around him as he pounded into her, pushing her hard into the unyielding floor.

He wanted to make the most of it and yet he couldn’t because with every thrust he drove himself closer to the edge. She clenched around him hard and he swore between gritted teeth. Everything was about to fall apart and he could feel it in his head; the slow-motion spill of release and yet he held on, forcing himself to cling to the last fibre of control before enough was enough.

His cock erupted inside her even as he kept thrusting, streams of release spurting deep into her body. Every inch of his body felt like it poured with pleasure and it went on even after he’d stopped moving, even as he just lay there, his weight on her and the world coming back to life. He moved, his cock slipping free of her body and they lay there a while, breathing hard on the cold floor.

***

Ivy was asleep when Calvin finally got home. He stripped and got quietly into bed, trying his best not to wake her.

But he failed. Her eyes flickered open and she blinked a few times before turning to look at him.

“Hey. Did you talk to her?”

Calvin nodded slowly.

“Yeah.” He felt dazed, drunk on Sofia and the night. “Yes. Everything’s fine. It’s all arranged.”

Ivy smiled. She inched closer and kissed him sweetly on the mouth.

“I’m so excited,” she whispered, “It’s going to be the best day of my life.”

***

But it wasn’t.

“This is literally the worst day of my life,” Ivy wept.

Everything had been in place. The sun was out. Everything and everyone was accounted for and the day was scheduled to run like clockwork.

But the flowers hadn’t arrived. There was nothing. Not a single rose. Not even a daisy. No bridal bouquet. No arch. No centrepieces.

The church looked skeletal. The reception hall looked like it was set up for a business conference. There was nothing anyone could do. Local florists didn’t have the time to help them and seemed surprisingly uninterested even when offered vast amounts of money. The wedding couldn’t be rearranged; the venue had been booked for a year and people had flown in from around the world. But there weren’t even any rose petals to scatter.

Ivy walked down the aisle empty-handed. The photographers from People looked like they were trying to contain their laughter. The bridesmaids stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do with their hands.

The reception seemed more like a wake than a wedding. Hundreds of guests were trying to convince Ivy that the wedding was still beautiful (“It’s minimalistic!” “Flowers would only detract from how beautiful you look.”) but she was inconsolable.

Calvin sweltered in his tuxedo. He called Sofia two dozen times before she finally answered halfway through the lukewarm reception.

“Calvin. How’s the wedding?”

They hadn’t spoken since the night at her store and Calvin felt his body react. He closed his eyes, trying to stay cool.

“I can’t believe you did this,” he hissed. “Was this some kind of revenge? It’s been ten years, for god’s sake!”

Sofia sighed. “Wellll. Best served cold, right?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Calvin snarled. “Who does that? How can you be so – so – cold, so petty, so-”

“Actually,” Sofia interrupted. “It’s not even about high school. For the record, I would’ve done your stupid flowers, but you were too much. You had to mess with my clients and my business and you know what? You can’t just do that. You can’t just walk over people to get what you want.”

Calvin opened his mouth and closed it again. He exhaled. He fought for an argument.

“It’s a fucking disaster!” he said. “Ivy’s cried all day! You’ve wrecked everything!”

“Oh, did she cry?” Sofia sounded mildly interested. “Like, real tears?”

“This isn’t a joke,” Calvin snapped. “Your career’s over. Nobody’s ever going to hire you again.”

Sofia sighed.

“That’s ridiculous. My waiting list is two years long.”

“Well you can kiss it goodbye,” Calvin seethed. “Because I’m going to tell everyone what you’ve done.”

“In that case, people are going to know what you’ve done,” Sofia said. “I mean, there’s this security tape I have from the other night. I really don’t think Ivy would be pleased to see it.” She paused, then added, “Not to mention all the people you’ve fucked over. Have you ever imagined life on the other side of your takedowns?”

Calvin felt the colour drain from his face. He wanted to tell himself she was bluffing but somehow, he knew she wasn’t. His stomach churned with an unfamiliar desperation. It was the feeling of being totally, unavoidably fucked. There was no way out, no excuses, no lies, no cover-ups. There was nothing he could do.

He opened his mouth, wondering what he could possibly say but Sofia had already hung up.

Back at the reception, Ivy finally seemed to have relaxed a little. But then the cake came out. Without the pale pink rose wreaths they'd planned, it looked like a stack of white cardboard boxes. Ivy burst promptly into fresh tears as Calvin looked on helplessly.

Three years of planning had ended in unmitigated disaster.