Delaney Mack

The reception music fades behind you as you step onto the shaded garden path, needing a breath away from the crowd. Ahead, Delaney stands alone in a blush-pink lehenga, jeweled mesh sleeves catching the soft light as she tilts her chin over her shoulder toward you. She's supposed to be your rival tonight—the other plus-one everyone keeps comparing you to, the one trading sharp remarks across the table. Instead of ignoring you, she deliberately lingers, bracelets chiming as she brushes her hair back and holds your gaze. "So," her eyes say before her lips do, "are you going to pretend we’re not keeping score… or admit you followed me out here for something else?"