Just This Once (Again) - Part Three: The New Secret

Some promises were never meant to last.

A kiss can break them.

A touch can undo everything.

But when the person you shouldn’t want is the only one who makes you feel alive again…

What choice do you really have?

Just This Once (Again)

Part Three: 

The New Secret

Dean’s eyes are still on me.

Even as people laugh and pass drinks and someone proposes a toast in the kitchen, I can feel the weight of his stare like a hand pressed between my shoulder blades.

I try not to look at him again.

But I fail.

He’s still standing beside Matt. Wearing a damn button-up that fits too well. Still wearing that expression I can’t quite read. It’s tight and unreadable, but unmistakably him.

Claire squeezes my arm. “You okay?”

I nod without meaning it. “Fine.”

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little—”

“Claire.” I warn.

She holds up both hands. “Okay. Got it.”

I try to blend into the noise. Sip a glass of something pink and sparkling. Smile when someone asks how I’ve been. I even laugh once, though it sounds a little wrong coming out of my mouth.

But I feel his presence again.

I don’t even have to look this time. I know when he’s near.

When I finally cave and glance over, he’s talking to one of the groomsmen. But he’s not laughing. Not even pretending. His eyes find mine in the middle of a crowded room like he’s been waiting for it.

I look away first.

It’s always been me.

And it’s not until I step outside for air that I realize he’s followed me.

The porch is quiet, dark except for the strings of lights that I’m sure Claire insisted on. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I’d brought a coat. Wishing for a lot of things.

“You shouldn’t have come out here alone.”

I flinch at his voice. “Why? You worried someone else might kiss me?”

Dean breathes out his exasperation, muttering, “Jesus.” Then quieter, “Cassidy.”

I turn around. He’s standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets like he’s trying not to touch anything. Including me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“My brother’s getting married.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

He doesn’t flinch. Just exhales slowly through his nose, like he’s been holding in too much.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I say, my voice sharper than I mean it to be.

Dean’s mouth twists. “Bullshit.”

“I didn’t,” I snap. “Claire never said anyone’s name.”

He takes a step closer, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “You really think Claire didn’t know what she was doing?”

He scrubs a hand over his face, jaw tight, like he hates saying it but knows he’s right. For a second, he almost looks sorry that he believes it or maybe for what happened.

“You didn’t call,” I say, quieter now. “You didn’t check on me.”

Dean looks away. “I couldn’t.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I know.”

The silence stretches. It’s not like the quiet from before, this one is thick with everything we didn’t say.

I shake my head. “You disappeared. After everything. After we—”

“I didn’t disappear,” he says, stepping closer. “You told me to go.”

“I told you it couldn’t happen. That’s not the same as vanishing.”

“I thought it was what you wanted.” His hand runs through his hair again.

“What I wanted?” I laugh, but it’s bitter and dry. “You think I wanted to lose my husband and kiss his best friend in a matter of days?”

He closes his eyes for half a second like the words hit him in the chest.

“Cass.”

“No. Don’t ‘Cass’ me like you still get to say my name like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” I whisper. “Because I don’t know if I am.”

He looks up.

I take a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending that night in the past didn’t happen. I’m tired of lying to myself like it never mattered.”

Dean’s breathing changes. So does the space between us.

“That night…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish.

He doesn’t have to. We both remember every second. 

Every breath.

He steps closer, and I should step back. I don’t.

“You ruined everything,” I say, voice cracking.

“I know.” His voice is low. Raw.

“I hate you for it.”

Dean exhales. “I hate me too.”

We’re too close now. I feel the heat of him in the cold night air. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

I don’t move.

“You think about it?” I ask.

“Every goddam day.”

His voice is low. Rough.

“I replay it over and over,” I admit. “Your hands. The way you looked at me like I was something you weren’t supposed to want but did.”

“You were,” he says. “You still are.”

My throat tightens. “Don’t.”

“I can’t stop.”

And then it’s happening. We’re kissing.

His hand is gripping the back of my neck. My fingers tighten in his shirt. Our mouths are crashing together like we’re trying to erase every moment since the last time.

It’s too much and not enough. Too fast and far too late.

But I kiss him back like it’s the only thing I’ve been sure of in weeks.

When we finally pull apart, breathing hard, eyes wild, everything in me wants to lean back in.

But I don’t.

I step away, slow, and it physically hurts to do it.

Dean watches me with that same broken expression he wore the last time.

“We said we wouldn’t,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“One kiss. That’s all it takes to break every promise we made.” I pause, heart hammering. “But I still want more.”

His eyes flash. For a second, he doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t move. Then something in him snaps.

Then he’s on me before I can blink.

No hesitation. No apology. Just hands in my hair and a groan in the back of his throat like he’s been holding it in for weeks.

Maybe he has.

I gasp into his mouth, but I don’t pull away. I should. I want to. But my fingers curl in his shirt instead, dragging him closer like it’s instinct. Like my body doesn’t remember we’re not supposed to want this.

Dean kisses me like he’s drowning. Like this is the only air he gets. One hand fists the fabric at my lower back, the other slips under the hem of my dress, fingers skimming the bare skin of my thigh.

“Cass,” he breathes against my lips. “You don’t want this…”

But he doesn’t stop.

I don’t either.

My head tilts, giving him more access. I taste regret and longing and every unsaid thing between us. His mouth moves over mine like a prayer and a punishment.

“I do,” I whisper, even though I know it’s not the truth. Or maybe it is, and that’s the worst part.

He walks me backward, blindly, until my back hits the wall of the house. Somewhere behind us, the party carries on, laughter and music muffled through windows and secrets.

I slide my hands under his shirt, finding heat and muscle and a heartbeat that pounds in time with mine. His breath hitches when my nails scrape lightly down his spine.

“I’m not good for you,” he mutters, voice wrecked as his lips drag across my jaw. “I never was.”

“Doesn’t feel like that right now.”

He huffs a broken laugh, mouth returning to mine with a hunger that borders on desperate. His thigh slots between mine, and I move without thinking, grinding onto him like I need the friction to stay grounded.

He curses softly, hips pressing forward.

“We should stop,” I say, but my hands are already pulling at his belt.

“We should,” he replies, and the truth of it hurts.

He lifts me with one hand braced under my thigh, backing us into the shadows. Some dark corner behind the house, half-shielded by trees and the hum of distant music. I don’t care who sees. I don’t care if they do.

The second my back hits the wall, we’re colliding again, mouths, hands, heat.

He hikes my dress up with rough fingers, the fabric gathering at my hips. The buckle clinks as he shoves his pants down, urgency in every movement.

And then he’s inside me, all heat and need and too late to stop.

One thrust and I shatter, clinging to him like he’s the only thing holding me together.

Dean presses his forehead to mine, his breathing ragged. “Tell me you hate me,” he whispers. “Tell me this doesn’t mean anything.”

I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer.

“I can’t.”

His mouth crashes to mine again, and this time, we don’t stop.

To be continued… Come back tomorrow for Part Four.

Copyright © by LS Phoenix

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Published by LS Phoenix

New Hampshire, USA

https://linktr.ee/authorlsphoenix

First Edition: August 2025

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