Oh, his friendship with Nesta was great. They had spent the past two years in an endless stream of coffee dates, texting chains, and group hangouts. Cassian had spent almost as much time with Gwyn and Emerie as he had with Nesta. He was well aware she was using her friends as a buffer, they were all aware, but they all allowed it because it was Nesta. 

However, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t starting to chafe, to want more from her. He knew it was wrong. He had agreed to her terms knowing perfectly well that he had little chance of ever changing her mind about giving them a shot at more than friendship. But after ten years with this beautiful, frustrating woman, he couldn’t help wanting more. 

Cassian no longer cared about the fact she was his soulmate. That was secondary to how much he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her. Not even his longtime friends measured up to how much he enjoyed his time with Nesta. He delighted in those times he could get her to laugh, the times she tried to pass off a smile as a scowl were especially his favorite moments. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Cassian said to Rhys, whose mouth thinned. Cassian pasted on a smile. “Enough about my friendship with Nesta,” he put extra emphasis on the word friendship, “you’re getting married today.”

The ceremony was going to be incredibly small, hardly more than a courthouse ceremony. Neither Rhys nor Feyre cared or wanted a lavish ceremony, so they decided to keep it to close friends and family. 

Rhys’s smile was brighter than Cassian had ever seen it. “I am getting married today.”

“It’s time.” 

Cassian turned at the soft spoken words from Azriel as Rhys gave his already straight tie another straighten and ran his hand over his hair. 

“Enough primping,” Cassian chuckled. 

Rhys didn’t bother to deny it as he turned to the pair of them with a smile. “Time to go get married.”

~~~~~~~~~

Nesta fidgeted in her seat, feeling out of place. She hadn’t seen either of her sisters in person since she had left home over ten years ago, and had only agreed to come to Feyre’s wedding after Elain begged her, saying Feyre would never beg herself but would be crushed if Nesta didn’t come. In a strange twist of fate, her sister’s soulmate ended up being one of Cassian’s closest friends. Since Cassian would be in the small wedding, Nesta had felt a little less apprehensive about attending, knowing she would have at least one ally there. 

Sitting in the front row of the small chapel, she couldn’t help but wonder if there weren’t going to be more people in the wedding than attending it. On the right side of the aisle was a man who could only be Rhys’s father, and she was the only person on the left.

“This seat taken?”

Nesta looked up to find a red-haired man gesturing to the seat next to her. She shook her head. “No.”

He sat down and extended a hand. She paused for a moment before shaking it. 

“I’m Lucien.”

“Nesta.”

“Ah. Feyre’s sister right?”

She nodded, and just because it seemed polite she asked, “How do you know Feyre?”

“We met through Rhys,” Lucien explained. “My family and Rhys’s have run in the same circles since we were kids, but your sister and I struck up a friendship, which is how I ended up with an invitation to this exclusive event.”

Nesta noted one of his fingers tapping his knee and wondered if he was nervous about something. Before she could think of anything else to say, music started and Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel walked to take their places in front of the room. Nesta, Lucien, and Rhys’s father turned to watch first Feyre’s friend—and Rhys’s cousin—Morrigan and then Elain walk down the aisle. The door closed behind Elain and when she was at the end of the aisle, the music shifted before the doors to the chapel once again opened, revealing Feyre. 

Nesta’s throat closed as she beheld her sister walking down the aisle with a bright smile on her face. Her dress wasn’t elaborate, could even perhaps be reworn as a evening gown, but it was the happiness radiating off her that left Nesta swallowing hard against the surge of emotion for her sister. When she glanced back to Rhys, she didn’t blame him for the tears shining in his eyes as he beamed toward his bride.

When they were again seated, she frowned at the glare Elain threw to Lucien. When Nesta glanced over at him, his expression looked guilty. She had never seen Elain look so livid, and widened her eyes towards both of them as a reminder that they were in the middle of a wedding. All three of them turned their gazes back to the ceremony, leaving Nesta to wonder what on earth that was about until she glanced down at Lucien’s hands and noticed the arrow on his was pointing directly toward Elain. 

Ah.

Nesta looked away again. She had her own soulmate issues to deal with. She did not need to get in the middle of someone else’s. Her eyes drifted to Cassian to find him already watching her. Her face heated when he smirked at her, a pleasant warmth winding through her. As expected, the past two years as Cassian’s friend had been amazing. Also as expected, Nesta was finding it harder and harder to shove away her desire to give in, to allow herself to love Cassian fully. 

The ceremony was over quickly, and before Nesta knew it, her youngest sister was married to one of the wealthiest men in the city. She clapped politely as the smiling couple floated back down the aisle, exiting after the other four wedding party members followed them down the aisle. 

Everyone, excluding Rhys’s father and the just married couple piled into a limo.  Cassian gestured for Nesta to sit next to him, so she squeezed between him and Azriel. Elain sat next to Azriel, as far away from Lucien as she could, and immediately struck up a conversation with him. Mor sat on the other side of Lucien and the pair also struck up a conversation. 

“You look beautiful,” Cassian said, his voice low. Nesta tensed to stop herself from shivering at the words spoken like a lover’s caress in her ear. Instead, she frowned at him. 

“You know better than to say that.” 

Cassian adopted an innocent expression. “I can’t tell a friend they look good?”

Nesta snorted. “Yes, tell me, did you whisper in Azriel’s ear as well?”

Azriel responded, his voice dry, “Yes, and it was disconcerting.” Cassian barked a laugh as Nesta rolled her eyes, unable to keep a smile from her face.

The ride to the Night family mansion, where the reception was to be held, flew by and before she knew it, they piled out of the limo. Nesta gazed around, unable to keep the awe out of her expression as she took in the grand mansion before her. It was like something out of movie and she couldn’t help but compare the home she and her sisters grew up in. Hopefully Feyre was ready for this new life. 

“It’s a bit much, right?” Cassian said.

She turned to him. “Something like that.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction before he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come on. Lets go before the good seats are taken.”

Nesta chuckled at the joke. The entire reception was nine people large, and Nesta would be surprised if Rhys’s father even bothered to join them. Nesta didn’t comment on Cassian holding her hand; the warm sensation worming its way up her arm felt so good, she didn’t want to pull away. 

Her mouth gaped open when they entered the ballroom. “What kind of a house has a ballroom these days?” she asked.

“The pretentious kind.”

Nesta turned to find Rhysand smiling at her. His smile tightened as he looked between her and Cassian, but he still stuck out his hand. “Glad to finally meet my other new sister-in-law.”

Nesta just barely resisted snorting at the obvious irritation in his voice as she shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you as well. Congratulations on your marriage.”

“Thank you.” His smile turned genuine as he glanced down at Feyre, tucked into his side beaming up at him. “I hope this means we’ll be seeing more of you?”

Nesta tensed, but before she could respond, Cassian linked her arm through his. “Excuse us. We should find our seat.” He pulled Nesta away before either Rhys or Feyre could respond, walking toward where a long table had been arranged in the center of the room. 

“Rhys is just worried about Feyre,” Cassian said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Nesta was so tense that it felt like a hard slap on the back would break every bone in her body. “And you, I’m sure.”

Cassian didn’t deny it as he pulled out a chair for her. “Just remember this is their wedding and that Rhys means well. As for me, well, I can take care of myself.” He winked as he sat down next to her. 

It didn’t escape her notice that he sat them at the opposite end of the table from Rhys and Feyre. Lucien took the seat across from Nesta, Mor once more sitting next to him. With such a small party, there wasn’t much one could do to avoid people, but Elain did her best, sitting herself directly next to Feyre, as far away from Lucien as she could.

Nesta did her best to shake off her defensiveness. She had no wish to ruin her sister’s wedding day, although she was beginning to think that would have been more likely had Nesta not attended at all. She felt out of place among these people. Even Lucien appeared less uncomfortable than Nesta, a product of running in the same circles for years no doubt. 

She stared at the assortment of silverware next to the charger in front of her and felt something akin to panic take over. 

“No one cares what fork you use,” Cassian said, leaning close to avoid others hearing. “Rhys’s father is probably the one responsible for it anyway. None of us bother with more than one fork.”

Nesta straightened, lifting her chin. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I know it. But you can’t hide your panic from me.”

“I wasn’t panicking.”

Cassian took a sip of water. “You were panicking.” He reached under the table to squeeze her hand and she took a deep breath to calm herself. She knew what he was doing, trying to get a rise out of her to make her forget how uncomfortable she was, and she hated that it was working. She just needed to get through this evening and then she could return to her life, could stop facing the guilt that had been her constant companion the entire day. 

Nesta was grateful when the first course was served and she had a reason to stay quiet, to pretend to be listening to the conversations around her, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the final course was removed. She just had to make it through cake and watching Rhys and Feyre dance and she could leave without looking rude. 

When a piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her, she raised her eyebrows. Cutting their wedding cake was apparently another wedding tradition that Rhys and Feyre didn’t care to be fussy about. She grabbed her fork and dug in, nearly groaning at how delicious it was. They may not be fussy, but they certainly didn’t skimp either. Conversation flowed around her as she savored the cake, forgetting her discomfort for a moment. 

As she was finishing up her last bite, the music that had been playing in the background shifted and Rhys held out a hand to Feyre, the pair of them walking several steps to the side of the table. Given how pretentious this home was, Nesta wasn’t at all surprised to find Rhys was an excellent dancer. Once upon a time, before her life had been upended, she had taken several different dance classes, so she could recognize how good Rhys was. He swept Feyre around the room and something that might have been envy tightened in Nesta’s chest at the happiness radiating off the couple. 

She looked away, using her fork to scrape the last bits of frosting off her plate so she didn’t have to watch them, to pretend that she wasn’t envious of her sister’s happiness. 

When the song ended, another waltz started and a hand came into view. Nesta looked up in surprise to find Cassian giving her a sheepish look. 

“Care to dance?”

Her breath caught. “I don’t know if we should.”

Cassian’s brows rose. “Friends dance.”

She knew she should say no, but something in her chest squeezed and she instead found herself taking his outstretched hand. “Ok.” 

It had been well over a decade since she had last danced, nothing much in her life worth dancing for until this moment. Rhys and Feyre were still beaming at each other as Rhys whirled them around the room. Elain and Azriel were also on their way to the dancefloor, leaving Mor and Lucien to follow.

Cassian stopped in the center of the dancefloor, turning his hand in Nesta’s to grasp it firmly, his other hand landing on her lower back as he pulled her closer. Nesta looked up at him, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest as she peered up into his hazel eyes and found them smoldering. 

“I have to warn you,” he said softly, “I’m not a great dancer.”

Nesta swallowed. “That’s fine.”

Without another word, Cassian began their waltz. Nesta couldn’t take her eyes off him, their breaths mingling as they silently waltzed around the room. Cassian was indeed not a great dancer, but she hardly noticed, too focused on his lips so close to hers. Less than a foot separated them as they twirled around the room and suddenly Nesta forgot she was at her sister’s wedding, forgot she was envious of Feyre’s happiness, forgot the guilt for the years she had abandoned her sisters. All that existed in that moment was her and Cassian.

Before she knew it, the song ended and they hardly paused before another song started. This one was much slower, and Cassian pulled Nesta closer, his hand low on the small of her back as their body’s brushed against each other. He was so tall that Nesta had to tip her head back, her eyes catching on his lips as she did so. When she finally looked up into his eyes, her stomach flipped at the molten look in his eyes. 

She stepped back, dropping her hands. “I…I have to go to the restroom.”

She turned, ignoring Cassian as he called after her, and all but ran out of the ballroom, turning right without knowing where she was going and walking briskly down a hallway next to the grand staircase. 

She had hardly walked ten steps when a hand gripped her arm. “Nesta, please stop.”

Nesta wrenched her arm free as she turned to find Cassian holding his hands up. “What.” She made herself sound cold, to hide how her emotions were roiling. 

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Cassian blinked. “I—shouldn’t have kept dancing after the waltz.”

Nesta crossed her arms, straightening hers pine. “Why?”

Cassian blinked again, clearly at a loss at her feigned indifference. Then he pressed his lips together, his expression darkening in irritation as he said, “You know what? I’m not sorry.”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Cassian snorted, crossing his own arms. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“I agree,” she said, “why are you surprised that I don’t care to be pawed at by you?”

She nearly took it all back at the hurt that flitted through his expression before he masked it, anger flaring in his expression. “That’s how you’re going to act? You can pretend there’s nothing but friendship between us, that’s fine. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” He stepped closer and Nesta tensed, refusing to back up. “I saw your face Nesta. You want me as much as I want you.”

Her fingers dug into her arms as she said, “You’re wrong.”

He took another step closer. “Am I?”

She couldn’t help her swallow as her mouth went dry, the heat in his eyes begging her to stop running, to give in. “Yes.” The word came out breathy and she nearly winced. 

Cassian cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing along her bottom lip as he leaned closer. “Then tell me to stop.” 

Nesta’s breath came in pants as she willed herself to pull away, to tell him to stop as he dipped his head toward her slowly, waiting for her to stop him. 

His lips brushed against hers and she let out a strangled sound, his hand sliding into her hair, his other gripping her waist as he stepped fully into her space and pulled her flush against him. Nesta melted against him, the last shreds of her self-control burning up against the heat of the kiss. When he licked the seam of her lips, she opened, groaning again as his tongue slid into her mouth. She grasped the sides of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

She had missed this, had thought about the first and only time they’d slept together more times than she cared to admit, but nothing compared to reality, to the feel of Cassian’s body against hers, his hands sliding over her, his tongue doing delicious things in her mouth. Cassian turned and walked her backwards until her back hit the wall behind them, groaning when she lifted a leg around his waist and ground herself into him. 

As if a tether had been broken in him, Cassian growled into her mouth, grinding himself against her, his hands hot as he slid them over her body on top of her dress. He pulled his lips from hers, sliding kisses along her jaw and down her mouth. Nesta could do little more than pant when he sucked lightly on the spot where her shoulder and neck met.

All at once, he pulled away, turned and strode toward the staircase, pulling Nesta behind him. She didn’t object, her heart racing, her mind strangely empty as Cassian pulled her into the first doorway he came to, which turned out to be a bedroom. He closed the door behind her and pushed her against it, his hands on either side of her head, breathing hard. 

He looked frantic, like he was hardly keeping himself together as his gaze moved between her eyes. “I need to know.” 

Nesta tried to remember how to think as she said, “Know what?”

Cassian closed his eyes, rubbing his nose against hers before he opened them again and said, “I need to know that if we do this, you won’t run away again. That you’ll finally admit that there is more than friendship between us and we can be together.”

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