Scraps of Affection

Sloane

"What?" Kaelen asked, his chest heaving violently in the absolute darkness.

I stared right back at him, my gaze dropping momentarily to the heavy bulge straining against the fabric of his dark trousers before returning to his face. I knew exactly what was about to happen back there. If I hadn't forcefully shoved his solid chest and pulled away from his aggressive lips, he would have had my underwear dragged down to my knees within seconds. He would have taken me rough and fast right there against the exterior wall. The stark reality of how far he was willing to go in the shadows turned my eyes completely ice-cold.

Smacking my slightly swollen lips to taste the lingering friction of our wild kiss, I met his confident, lustful smirk head-on.

"I just wanted to see if kissing you would change anything," I stated, my tone entirely devoid of the desperate heat we had just shared.

"And?" he challenged, his smirk deepening into something incredibly cocky, clearly assuming his aggressive mouth had won me over.

I closed the tiny distance between us, stepping dangerously into his personal space, and leaned directly into his ear. "What makes you think I possess even a shred of interest in dating Vanessa's brother?" I whispered coldly.

He recoiled slightly, his dark eyes searching my face in absolute disbelief. He poked his inner cheek with his tongue, the arrogant smirk immediately wiping clean off his handsome face. Leaving Kaelen standing there completely speechless in the pitch-black backyard, I turned on my heel and walked away.

As my heels clicked against the pavement, a wave of bitter disappointment washed over me. Kaelen was a notoriously charming playboy. Kissing him, feeling the hard, heavy weight of his erection grinding directly against my bare thigh, should have ignited an uncontrollable fire inside me. It should have been a wild, reckless escape. Instead, as I walked away, I realized it made me feel absolutely nothing.

An invasive, torturous thought violently crept into my mind as I reached my car. What if it hadn't been Kaelen? What if it had been Rowan forcefully pressing me against that dark wall, his large hands greedily sliding up my exposed thighs? Would I have completely let myself go? Would I have let him tear my dress off and take me right there in the shadows?

I firmly shook my head, aggressively pushing the pathetic, desperate thought away. *He is marrying Vanessa.* That was the only reality that mattered now.

Without uttering a single word of goodbye to anyone, not even the host, I slipped entirely out of the loud engagement party. I climbed into the driver's seat of my car, locked the doors, and started the engine, embarking on the forty-five-minute drive back to my lonely house. The dark roads stretched out ahead of me. During the long drive, I constantly found my eyes darting up to the rearview mirror. Deep down, a foolish, fairy-tale hope still burned intensely in my chest—the desperate fantasy that I would look in the mirror and see Rowan’s bright headlights chasing after me, desperate to stop me from leaving.

But the road behind me remained completely pitch black. I forcefully buried that pathetic delusion. He wasn't coming for me.

The next morning, I was violently yanked out of a restless sleep by the sound of my phone vibrating endlessly against my wooden nightstand. I groaned, pulling the thick comforter over my head, but the buzzing was relentless. Squinting against the harsh morning sunlight filtering through my bedroom curtains, I finally reached out and grabbed the device.

My eyes widened in total shock. My notifications were entirely out of control. My name was actively trending across social media. I tapped into the main app and saw that someone had covertly snapped and posted a high-quality picture of my grand entrance at the party the night before.

The comment sections were completely flooded with people obsessing over my drastic, stunning transformation.

"Wait, is this the same nerdy Sloane who used to hide out in oversized hoodies? She looks like a literal movie star!"

"Look at those gorgeous legs. I am absolutely obsessed."

"I was there last night, and honestly, the picture doesn't even do her justice. Drop the skincare routine because WOW!"

I scrolled through the endless stream of compliments, a small, vindictive part of me enjoying the validation. However, the exact moment my eyes caught a string of comments beginning to tag and mention Rowan—asking how he felt about his childhood friend looking like every man's ultimate fantasy on his engagement night—a wave of disgust hit me. I aggressively tossed my phone aside, letting it bounce near the foot of my bed. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him or his perfect fiancée today.

Almost immediately, the phone lit up again and began ringing loudly.

Rowan's name flashed brilliantly across the bright screen. My stomach tied itself into a massive, complicated knot. I stared at the green accept button for several agonizing seconds before my pathetic weakness won out. I grabbed the phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Slo," his soft, warm voice filled my ear, instantly sending a treacherous jolt down my spine.

"Hey. What's up?" I asked, clearing my throat to keep my voice steady.

"I looked everywhere for you last night, but I couldn't find you. I honestly don't even blame you for leaving early. I actually wanted to call you the second I realized you were gone, but..." He paused, and I could almost hear his guilty grimace through the speaker. "I was just so busy with Vanessa after the party wrapped up."

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned stark white. I squeezed my eyes shut, violently pushing away the vivid mental image of the two of them alone, getting intimately tangled in bed.

"I just wanted to apologize for the events of last night," Rowan continued, his tone shifting to something serious. "Vanessa aggressively crossed the line with that truth-or-dare game. She shouldn't have targeted you like that."

"It's whatever, Rowan. She has always been that way towards me. It's nothing new," I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek hard.

"No, it's not whatever. I had a really long, serious talk with her about it and told her it wasn't funny. You didn't deserve that embarrassment," he insisted gently. "Listen... Vanessa is my fiancée, yes, but you..." He trailed off for a second, letting the silence hang heavily between us. "I know we haven't been close for a while now, but you've always been important to me, Sloane."

I vehemently hated how those hollow, meaningless words still possessed the absolute power to make my racing heart flutter. I hated myself for soaking up his cheap validation like a dying plant desperate for water.

"Anyway," Rowan pressed on quickly, shifting gears. "I need to make sure you are still planning to attend the wedding this weekend, despite everything that went down with Vanessa."

I let out a harsh breath of disbelief, pointing a finger at my own chest even though he couldn't see me. "You seriously expect me to come?"

"Of course I do," he said softly, immediately weaponizing our shared history. "Sloane, we go way back. Don't you remember our childhood vows? We promised we were going to be best friends for life. I need my best friend there."

The heavy, suffocating label of "best friend" hit me so hard it felt like a physical punch to the gut. I deeply, desperately desired to refuse him. I wanted to tell him I had too much going on. Yet, there I was, still actively operating as the pathetic girl waiting for tiny scraps of affection from a boy who never truly chose her.

I heavily sighed, my shoulders slumping in total defeat. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Great!" he exhaled, sounding genuinely relieved. "I'll text you the final venue details later today. See you there."

Even after the line went dead, the echo of him calling me his best friend rattled around in my skull. It hurt terribly, but I was completely powerless to change it.

~

Rowan

As I stood in the center of the luxurious private dressing room, the tailor meticulously adjusting the cuffs of my custom tuxedo, my mind drifted entirely to Sloane.

Ever since we were young kids running around the neighborhood, I had always known that Sloane was deeply in love with me. She never explicitly confessed it out loud, but she never had to. The desperate, adoring way she constantly looked at me spoke volumes. She looked at me as if I were the center of her universe, as if I were her entire world.

I kept her close because it massively fed my ego. Having a girl completely devoted to me, willing to do absolutely anything without asking for a single thing in return, was an incredible power trip. I liked knowing someone would always be faithfully stationed in the background. But I consciously never offered her anything substantial in return. I didn't want to. To me, Sloane was reliable, comfortable, and totally safe. But my towering ego constantly demanded a partner who was conventionally pretty, undeniably hot, and socially noticeable to the rest of society.

When Vanessa confidently strutted into my life right around the time my popularity peaked, flashing her wealth and top-tier social status, I made my definitive choice. I thoroughly enjoyed having Vanessa on my arm as my glittering, untouchable trophy, while Sloane remained quietly and faithfully waiting by my side, ready to serve my needs.

I had explicitly invited Sloane to the wedding today knowing damn well her blind devotion meant she couldn't possibly say no to me. But I had to admit, seeing her walk into the engagement party looking totally transformed had severely messed with my head. She had shockingly returned looking like every man’s ultimate physical fantasy. The long legs, the stunning face, the raw sex appeal—she was breathtaking. For a brief, selfish moment, a slight, greedy pang of regret fiercely hit me. I realized I had completely missed out on claiming her physical beauty and hot body when I had the easy chance.

But as I stared at my handsome reflection in the dressing room mirror, I firmly rationalized my life choices. She was incredibly hot now, sure, but she still wasn't anywhere close to the elite, wealthy social circle I belonged in. Marrying Vanessa remained my best, most strategic decision.

Everything was going exactly to my meticulous plan. We were mere minutes before the grand wedding ceremony was set to officially begin, and Vanessa was finally going to be mine forever.

Suddenly, the heavy doors of my private dressing room violently burst open.

Vanessa aggressively barged in, her face flushed red with pure, unadulterated fury. She was frantically clutching the voluminous sides of her elaborate wedding dress, her eyes blazing with manic rage.

"Get out! All of you, get the fuck out right now!" Vanessa screeched at the top of her lungs, glaring at the attendants.

The tailor and my groomsmen immediately dropped what they were doing and scrambled out of the room, shutting the doors securely behind them.

"Vanessa, what the hell has gotten into you?" I asked with genuine concern, stepping toward her. "Don't you know it's bad luck for me to see you like this before the altar?"

She rolled her dramatically lined eyes, her chest heaving violently. "Oh, please! Why the hell is Sloane permitted to attend our wedding?" she demanded, her voice dripping with absolute venom.

"Because I invited her," I replied evenly, trying to maintain my composure.

"And you didn't even bother to tell me?" she furiously pointed a manicured finger toward the general direction of the chapel seating. "Have you seen her out there? Everyone is staring at Sloane as if she were a literal goddess descended from heaven! She needs to leave immediately!"

"No," I firmly insisted, my tone hardening. "She is my guest and my best friend."

Vanessa brutally scoffed at the label, her face twisting in pure, vicious disgust. "Best friend? Please, Rowan. You two have barely spoken in years!"

"I know, but she has always been there for me," I argued defensively.

"So fucking what?" Vanessa outright refused to back down, taking a highly threatening step toward me. She issued a vicious, explosive ultimatum, her voice completely devoid of any compromise. "I don't want her here, and I strictly forbid you from coming to her defense! Because I swear to God, Rowan, if Sloane doesn’t leave this venue immediately, the entire wedding is permanently cancelled!"