“Good. See you around, Brinden. Crossing my fingers for you!”
I giggled. “Thanks. Bye.”
A Valentine’s Day dance, huh? I wrinkled my nose at the thought. I wasn’t really one for dancing. Put me in the spotlight and I had two left feet, and no amount of spiked punch made my moves any smoother, but then again, this wasOliverwe were talking about.
Oliver, who didn’t seem to be affected by my awkwardness. Oliver, who seemed to like me for me. My heart thumped out a one-two beat. I could suck it up for one night and dance with him, if it would make him happy. Making him happy mademehappy, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to ask him out.
No time like the present? I quickly tapped out a text, my stomach squirming with excitement and nerves.You wanna go to the Valentine’s dance with me on Saturday?I sent it with a soft squeal.
Sounds perfect, so long as your wear those red cords. You know, the ones you wore on our first date?
I blinked.Really? Why?
Your butt looks delectable in those pants.
Heat flushed my cheeks.Oh my god, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that!
Too forward? Only being honest ;) Really, though. Wear what you’re comfortable in, I won’t judge.
Not even if I show up in yoga pants and an oversized hoodie? :P
Not even then. You’re amazing, Brin. Doesn’t matter what you wear, so long as I get to spend the evening dancing with you, I’ll be one happy man. I mean it.
I released a happy sigh. Could he be any more wonderful?
As it turned out, yes. Yes he could. He came to pick me up on Saturday with a bag of candy hearts in one hand and a corny V-Day card in the other, with a love-drunk puppy dog on the front that said “B Mine?”
“Oh, Ollie. This is wonderful.”
He grinned all goofily at me, standing on my front stoop with his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his gray slacks, his tie matching the deep maroon of my favorite corduroy pants.
“You look amazing, Brin,” he murmured.
“And you look hot as hell. Wow.” I bit my lip and took him in, from the polished black loafers to the fitted blazer that brought out the gray of his eyes. He looked good enough to eat. “Ready to go? As a forewarning, I can’t dance.”
He winked. “To be completely honest? Neither can I, but fake it till you make it, right? Let’s go, beautiful.” He caught my hand in his and tugged me down the steps, to where his sleek orange convertible sat idling on the curb. I slid into the front seat, my stomach all jumbled up.Beautiful.He thought I was beautiful…
For a silly Valentine’s Day dance, it looked like the entirety of Destiny had showed up to party. Oliver maneuvered his car into parking spot, but even then, it was a tight squeeze.
“Wow, did the whole town show up?” I asked as we made our way up to the front doors.
He chuckled. “Yeah, Destiny goes all-out on this type of shit. I’ve never been one for grandiose socializing, so for most ofthese events, I usually skip and stay home, watch something on Netflix, you know? But Mac and Nathaniel actually met at the winter gala a few years ago, so hey, it’s not all bad. C’mon, let’s go inside. It’s nippy out here.”
“You could say that again.”
“It’s nippy out here,” he parroted with a smirk, and I swatted his butt. He cracked up laughing and darted through the door, only to hold it open for me like the gentleman he was.
At least, I thought he was a gentleman until I felt him eying my butt. I spun on him with a huff. He offered the most innocent-looking smile, batting his lashes for good measure. It drove me crazy. I wanted to kiss him so bad, it wasn’t even funny. My lips tingled with the need to taste him, to feel his warmth against my skin. My fingers twitched.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat. “Wanna grab some punch? Hopefully it’s not spiked.”
“It’s not,” he assured me. “The mayor runs these events, and he prides himself on them being family-friendly. All the adult beverages are kept behind the bar, and you’re gonna pay a pretty penny if you’re aiming to get drunk here. They’ve gotta make their money somehow.” He laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist, and heat bubbled through me.
The auditorium was large without managing to be a complete echo chamber. Decorations hung from the ceiling, colorful links of paper swooping down just out of reach. Glittery hearts glistened beneath the light of the disco ball—yes, you heard me right, there was a freaking disco ball—and music boomed from the overhead speakers. The DJ was set up in one corner, and pink and red lights flashed around the room.
“This is nice,” I admitted, taking it all in. “It’s showy without being overly glamorous, and whatever they’re cooking smells great.” I sniffed the air and my stomach rumbled. Oliver had assured me there would be food, so I hadn’t eaten much all day.Now the mingling scents of a barbecue reminded me of my post-nerves hunger.
“They do sort of a potluck. It’s pretty cool. Punch, for the lovely lad?” He handed me a clear plastic cup of fruit punch with chunks of actual fruit bobbing in the pink liquid. He took a sip and hummed. “It’s like a berry lemonade. Try it. It’s good.”
